Another early start. Can’t be late, so I live by check-lists. Shave, cup of tea, pack washbag. Same check-list every a.m. whether it’s Thurso or Stranraer.
Off we go, heading West. I know the way, done it a million times, but I love my Satnav, shows me exactly how far to go.
Here’s Harthill, where postcodes change from EH to G, the weather gets worse, and the buses get dirtier. Today’s special is a snow covering, followed by single track road works. But it’s Sunday 6am, so no delays.
Must get in the mood for today’s job – put on my Hillbilly CD – that’s better. On round Glasgow, taking the lovely and lonely M74, a great road. It’s there to help traffic avoid The Kingston Bridge congestion, but half the drivers are scared they get lost, so stick to what they know. Result: lovely empty M74.
Airport now. International arrivals. Our camera/sound crew arrive, breathless – they think they are late. No need to worry, though, musicians are always last to come out – so many instruments in strange boxes, customs love strange boxes.
‘Here he comes’, our TV camera whirrs, onlookers are bemused,
‘I don’t know who he is, but that’s Charlie Stewart meeting him’
‘Welcome to Scotland, again’
‘You’ve put on weight Charlie’
We escape from the terminal and head for the hills.
Hotel. Breakfast. 5 Star everything. I love this job. Go up to check on the music recording. Top of the range stuff. These people are the best. No diva’s, no ego’s. Us crew/bystanders/hangers on are privileged to be here. I get paid, too!
Anyway, enough waffle. Got another job tonight, so must sleep some. Off to Banchory – that means real snow, and back with an itinerant fiddler, chosen to ply his trade in the best show in town.
Tomorrow’s another day.
Charles Stewart, Blue Badge Guide