Clare Teal: A funny thing happened on the way to the opera house

Our driver was a lovely chap called Julian (Yooooool-ian), not only most capable behind the wheel but also ready equipped with a sense of humour (not standard on all models).

This is also true of Pee Wee's German drummer, Guido Mai, proving an exception to the Mark Twain rule, "A German joke is no laughing matter". Julian puts this down to the three months he's just spent on the road with Hugh Masekela who is, by all accounts, the funniest man on the planet.

I don't know Guido's thoughts on the matter but I have to say that virtually everyone we met was able to raise some sort of smile, and, of course, let us not forget the skill involved in translating jokes that often don't stand up to such intense scrutiny.

Essen isn't far from Cologne but our sides were fairly aching after an hour on the chuckle bus.

As jazz lovers will be aware, pianist Gareth Williams and bassist Laurence Cottle are superb musicians, but they could both give Hugh a run for his money any day, though perhaps not in the trumpet stakes.

Since 1949, Essen has been twinned with Sunderland; my money would have been on Swansea, but then they were both flattened and rebuilt at the same time and in the same way.

We stayed in a Swiss hotel renowned for its food; the others went off to find a pub showing the rugby, so Muddy, the Pee Wees and myself thought we'd give the menu a whirl – just heaven.

From the minute Franz brought the bread basket to the table with a choice of butter and dripping (!) I knew we were destined to get on. One Wiener Schnitzel with chips and one Mvenpick dessert later, we are airlifted back to our room.

The gig got off to a slightly later start than planned as the taxi driver took Pee Wee to the opera house instead of the theatre. Easy mistake to make – he clearly looks like an opera singer.

By the way, it takes seven minutes to pour the perfect German beer – there is nothing funny about that.