Newton in Brine

I woke up this morning to see a bluish sky above Stevenage.

It’s amazing how even just a little bit of sun can make all of the difference.

I got on the train and sat in the first class car because I have a dandy BritRail train pass. It gives me non-stop travel for thirty days on the extensive UK rail lines. You have to be North American to be eligible for it, but- damn- if you’re planning on seeing the UK, it’s the only way to go. Plus you get free coffee in 1^st Class! Which makes it totally, totally worth it!

Beware the menu in 1st class though:

We arrived in Grantham, took a cab driven by a sour old fart of a man, and checked into a nice little B&B, with free internet- hence this post. My room has a TV about the size of a sugar cube.

Afterwards, I popped over to the Arts Centre, where I’m performing tonight. Apparently, the internet and telephone aren’t in service at the Arts Centre because they’re in the midst of moving the box office. I wondered: how are people supposed to buy tickets for the show, but it thought better not to ask. All will be revealed.

The theatre itself is lovely, with a bunch of crazy cool vintage chandeliers on the ceiling. The auditorium is painted sort of a nightmarish pinky-orange, which somehow suits it. Besides, theatres are meant to be dark.

Grantham is a lovely town.

The cafes seem nice, but I avoided this one:

Just as a sidebar: Sir Issac Newton was born and raised in wee place near enough to here so that Grantham can lay claim upon him. There’s a lovely statue of S.I.N. in the square across from the Arts Centre. For those of you who don’t remember: Sir Issac Newton was the guy who discovered how stuff figs into pastry.

I want to know who invented Hot Dogs in Brine?

Gross.

Bye for now.