We've teamed up with one of the freshest new bands in the UK right now, Big Sixes, to bring you a daily tour diary or just what it's like to be on the road.
The main emphasis is on the luxurious budget hotels that the band stay in amongst their nitty-gritty nights on stage playing to cities across the UK. Check back daily to find out their latest spotting of beige coloured furniture and why their lack-lustre continental breakfasts just aren't quite hitting the spot, and no, Lenny Henry shall not be testing the beds with them.
Day #2 and #3 - Carlisle Travelodge
There's something to be said for the tranquility of finding your room, in a different city, looking the same as you left it in the last. It speaks to the less nomadic of the touring party like a doting dinner lady, offering out a plaster for a grazed knee. The bulbs cough and splutter before filling the room with belly laugh of lazy light. My sanctuary. My only burdens come from the now harrowing experience of sharing a room with a photographer, a bad judgement on my part. Electricity is sacred for a touring band of the communication era. No plug goes unfilled.
The lights of Glasgow glisten like a gentle tear as we fall down the cities blushing cheek. Alone with the quiet purr of midnight, crawling to bed.
It's 2AM when we pull into the hotel carpark, greeted by the soft light of the moon and wild rabbits, hopping past the headlights. A family of spritely brothers and sisters, praying for grass unfrosted, from which they can nibble. In search of adventure, food and a warm burrow.
I'm handed the keys as a familiar phrase echoes round the concave's of the universe, navigating the depths of our souls until it erupts into our hearts... "put the kettle on mate."
By Charlie Costello
The main emphasis is on the luxurious budget hotels that the band stay in amongst their nitty-gritty nights on stage playing to cities across the UK. Check back daily to find out their latest spotting of beige coloured furniture and why their lack-lustre continental breakfasts just aren't quite hitting the spot, and no, Lenny Henry shall not be testing the beds with them.
Day #2 and #3 - Carlisle Travelodge
There's something to be said for the tranquility of finding your room, in a different city, looking the same as you left it in the last. It speaks to the less nomadic of the touring party like a doting dinner lady, offering out a plaster for a grazed knee. The bulbs cough and splutter before filling the room with belly laugh of lazy light. My sanctuary. My only burdens come from the now harrowing experience of sharing a room with a photographer, a bad judgement on my part. Electricity is sacred for a touring band of the communication era. No plug goes unfilled.
The lights of Glasgow glisten like a gentle tear as we fall down the cities blushing cheek. Alone with the quiet purr of midnight, crawling to bed.
It's 2AM when we pull into the hotel carpark, greeted by the soft light of the moon and wild rabbits, hopping past the headlights. A family of spritely brothers and sisters, praying for grass unfrosted, from which they can nibble. In search of adventure, food and a warm burrow.
I'm handed the keys as a familiar phrase echoes round the concave's of the universe, navigating the depths of our souls until it erupts into our hearts... "put the kettle on mate."
By Charlie Costello