The thing about hotels, as I'm sure I'm about to experience a lot over the next fortnight, is that you have to get up early - it seemed to be frowned upon if you wake up at 10am for example. Anyway, had an early breakfast and then decided to walk from Weymouth to Portland - it's only about 6 miles away.
And with this, the adventure truly began. Just one man, and a box...I didn't have to walk it, but it's good to, isn't it? It's healthy?
And with this, came the start of my many tour cock-ups. But this wasn't entirely my fault....I didn't know there was a rivalry between Weymouth and Portland to the extent that they give you the wrong directions on purpose so you don't cross over. Eventually, thanks to a very helpful homeless man and 4G kicking in on my phone, I was heading in the right direction, after 2 miles of walking the wrong way.
8 miles later I'd found my venue. Mostly uphill, it has to be said. Venue very welcoming to this very sweaty man with a box on his back.
The show itself - which was totally sold out, was an absolute cracker. First half I couldn't do a thing wrong, second half had a slow start but soon hit form again. Brilliant start to a long tour, with many locals offering to buy me beer after (I accepted).
After all that, a kind audience member gave me a lift back to Weymouth, where I celebrated with a KFC and Match of the Day in my hotel room. Actually. Living. The. Dream.
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