Good evening from Osaka

We’re in a car heading to Thaxted. It’s Good Friday, the rain has cleared, a watery sun is casting long shadows down the Holloway Road and we’re going to pay a visit to my parents. We’re taking Fiona and an apple pie. Nathan has bronchitis, which means the poor guy can barely talk and certainly can’t do his show tonight.


Today hasn’t really felt like a bank holiday. I went to the gym and found it closed. Similarly the bakery in Highgate Village. Just as well, really, as loaves of bread there now cost £2.50. £2.50? In my day you could buy a loaf of bread, a cinema ticket and a small village and still have change for a fiver. I did a bit of work at Cafe Nero and then had lunch at Cafe Rouge. Yes, I seem to spend a lot of my time in cafes at the moment, trying to make single mugs of peppermint tea last for hours! Despite all the work I’ve lined up for the year ahead, I’ve still not earned a penny in 2010. The perilous existence of a freelance creative...

Last night I went to watch Matt in conversation with Scott Capuro at the Royal Vauxhall Tavern, which is a pub for hairy men who wear leather and like to dance to Kylie Minogue. It was a funny sort of format; a sort of live chat show with no cameras. They sat on comfy chairs perched on that famous little cabaret stage, surrounded by the ghosts of all the greats who have performed there; Lily Savage, Bette Rince, Lola Lasagne, Wilma Fingadoo and that strange woman who sits in a giant bath singing show tunes. (I don’t mean Lady Gaga.) Matt was very candid and amusing and I was extremely proud of him.

On the way back, Philip Sallon (that wonderful doyenne of British fashion) and I walked from Buckingham Palace to Leicester Square, whilst talking about 16th and 17th Century monarchs. Philip knows an astonishing amount about history and about everything. I’m not sure why that should surprise me, but it does. I must remember to invite him to the next quiz.

And if you've never seen Philip Sallon... he looks like this:

Today was the day that Pepys, Motagu and various hangers-on boarded the Nazeby and bedded down for the next stage of their journey. Pepys was pleased with his new cabin. It was small, but it had two windows; one looking out to sea and one over-looking the deck. It also had “a good bed”, which must have been a great relief. Pepys was also thrilled to discover that his main rival, the Puritan, Mr. Creed, had been barred from joining the motley crew, despite having brought all his belongings onto the boat. Hugely embarrassing and to make matters worse, he was ejected by someone whom he considered to be an inferior. His grip on Montagu was definitely loosening and Pepys was moving in!

I leave you with the contents of a letter that Fiona has just pulled out of her violin case. She is currently touring the world with the band Placebo, playing violin and keyboards and has suddenly gained a set of rather special fans. One of them left her a note at a venue in Japan. Fiona's surname is Brice. This is what the letter says:

"Dear Brice. Good evening. Live of you was seen in Osaka. It was the highest. Moreover, it was possible to see terribly in the vicinity. It was instinctively surprised the visit to Japan by a full member surely. I was able to listen to your performance and was happy. Thank you for your wonderful live and the night!!"