Sweden is the last rehearsal today. I’m tired, so I’ll keep things short. It will qualify.
Nick: Someone next to me just said “Right, are we going home yet? I’m tired and I need to eat”. Yeah, fair enough. So I shall just reluctantly concede that we just saw a pretty much spot-on rehearsal of a song that I don’t like very much.
Reading the day back, I seem to have been insulting just about everyone. Overtired, obviously. And not high on a mountain top in Bergen looking down on a tiny little town made all out of Lego and Meccano. With the sun at my back. And half-price ice cream. And a little Christmas shop. And more Indian restaurants and barbers than you could shake a stick at. And a massive great fountain in the middle of a huge water feature, and fjords. And benches and parks where tattooed Norwegians do bicycle tricks and practice roundhouse kicks. And mysterious pine forests with trolls and rickety rope bridges and ominously discarded gloves. And… can we go round again?