Driving through Werris Creek we happened upon the crumbling façade of the The Signal Guesthouse. We had to play there. With some trepidation I called the number next to the door, thinking that the proprieter would send me packing with my bizarre request. “Beryl” greeted me with a “’Course you can love!” and a run down on the history of the heritage building.
We set up a quietly as possible, trying not to wake the residents from their Sunday afternoon siestas. Nonetheless they came pouring out the doors carrying shotguns… kidding… glasses of iced water and offers of assistance. Playing for these people was a privilege and an honour. Their hospitality and enthusiasm for the project was galvanising. I just want to keep meeting more people like that.
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Take a long walk.
February 20, 2018
Writing 'Slipstream' about life on the river... paying in blood for the perfect sunset...