The most northerly town in mainland scotland, Thurso greeted us with a now-familiar sight – two young men sitting on the floor pissed out of their skulls singing unrecognisable songs and hurling casual abuse at people at 4pm. Still – you shouldn’t judge a whole town on two loud drunks, so let’s get to the venue.
The venue, inevitably, greets us with more men pissed out of thir skulls singing unrecognisable songs and hurling casual abuse at us. I’ve quickly discovered that the quickest way to get into trouble is to be meek and retiring. Give back as good as you get, say it with balls and you’re away.
One guy who looked so obviously like Francis Rossi from Status Quo it wasn’t even worth pointing it out came over to talk to us. He wasn’t alone however as he quickly admitted – “sorry boys, I farted before I came to talk to you and I hoped it would be ok but it’s clearly followed me over, sorry”.
Thank god for Isla – she’d taken over this place when she was 19 when it was a den for drug traffiking criminals, cleaned it up and doesn’t take shit from nobody. What a lady. She really cares, and made us feel very welcome. They’d even made a banner advert for the main street…
The gig went really well – engaging a saturday night crowd with acoustic music isn’t easy, but by the end they were chanting for more. John and I are so tight now, both musically and personally, that the gigs are just flying.
The rest is a blur of Guinness, whisky and random shots all night. I think it looked a bit like this…
Work hard, play hard. Thank you Thurso.
Postcard sent to: Jori
Next postcard to: Isla Mackay
Thanks to: Andy the very sound sound man, Isla, all the other staff at the Newmarket Bar, Megan who played a great support set, and the mystery stranger who paid for our pizzas.