Clare Teal: Lost in transit, check in for more musical misadventures

"Just parking now." "Whereabouts?"

"Under the hotel."

"Really? I didn't know you could park there. See you in reception."

"Have you checked in?"

"Yes, just – we didn't see you. Walking into room 1018 now. The mobile's dying, give us a tinkle on the room phone."

"I've just tried to call 1018 – there is no 1018."

"That's odd 'cause we're definitely in 1018."

"Are you definitely in the Holiday Inn at Heathrow?"

"Yep – Sipson Road – the one you told me."

"But you parked under the hotel when there is no 'under the hotel' and you're in a room that doesn't exist!"

You may be interested to know that there are, in fact, three Holiday Inns at Heathrow, two of them on the same road.

At 4.45am, a taxi driver picked us up from the wrong Holiday Inn, watching with amusement as Muddy and I struggled to lift our suitcases into the boot before dropping us half a minute down the road. "10! Why am I not surprised?"

A further taxi journey (85) took Muddy, Pee Wee Ellis, Mrs Pee Wee and myself to St Pancras. We were travelling out by train and flying back.

By 1.15pm we were in Cologne, and it was during a lovely meal of pork chops and sauerkraut that I realised I'd forgotten my microphone. Duh – singer. I'm quite particular about using my own microphone, at least I know where I and it have been. Buying shoes in Cologne is much easier than buying microphones, cheaper too.

Found and ate some of most incredible doughnuts ever created, the scoffing of which was justified by the 10 minute walk into town.

We retired to our curious suite on two floors, each floor the size of a double bed, and unplugged the TV as next door's remote kept randomly switching it on.

Three seconds after closing our eyes, Pee Wee started practising his saxophone next door. On this particular evening, the Godfather of funk was in a reflective mood treating us to a melodic rendition of "Chestnuts roasting..." Life on the road.