Clare Teal: A long day's journey into night... and Darlington

Until drastic action is taken, Darlington remains a long way from Bath. The schedule dictated we were to thrill the masses of Stockton on Saturday night and emerge fresh as daisies to start recording at 10 in London on Sunday morning.

Members of the band travel under their own steam so in a bid to preserve as much of their energy and goodwill as possible, so it was decided we would travel North on Friday evening. We found a hotel near Darlington, just off the motorway, I swear it was the same one Alan Partridge lived in. By 11.20pm everyone had arrived safely – unfortunately, the bar closed at 11.15pm. It might seem a bit odd, but roadworks on the M1 having now reached epidemic proportions, travelling at night was our only sane option.

We had been told by the receptionist that if we did want a nightcap we should contact the night porter (who was one and the same person). Any good night porter always has access to alcohol and this fella was no exception. His late night bar was a small squeaky trolley. Choice was limited to three options consisting of a well known lager, a miniature bottle of whisky (blend not malt but surprisingly nice) and a small bottle of Ros. Needless to say, it was all gratefully received.

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After a peaceful night's sleep and having missed breakfast, we reconvened in the hotel bar to discuss our forthcoming Christmas shows.

It was decided that to top last year's spectacle a further three ukuleles should be procured and a new song in which to play them be added – Burnley on December 15 – you have been warned!

With a further five hours to kill before soundcheck, a search began for a country pub where we could indulge in a leisurely lunch and The Old Farm House at Middleton St George came highly recommended.

Brilliant food, lovely staff and marvellous value, five of us had a three course meal and coffee for 70 (it just wouldn't happen darn sarf!)

Full and happy, we were given the biggest welcome of the season from the good people of Stockton, which kept our spirits up during the 276 mile journey back to London.

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