Not a stag night but a show with the band at the Paradiso, a place i remember not so well from days of yore, Squeeze and Amsterdam, Glenn’s Dad and space cake, Gilson being the fun cream, Les Grimsley the nut bag. All good parts of the jigsaw. Up early and onto the Eurostar to Amsterdam, a better way to travel by far, we glide through the cold flat lands, war graves and battle lines. The sun is out here and we are in a hotel from hell, its called Backstage, each room is like a flight case, it feels funky and it is. The gig is wonderful, no complaints ever, the band just do what they do is a golden way. A young sell out crowd, amazing. No red light just pool in the hotel and guitar Hero on the big screen. Bed, for a few hours and then all hell…..back come the numbskulls from shagging Amsterdam, guys from all over the UK, nob heads. A paramedic is called for one of them. I can’t sleep and fell like axing my way through the party. Ear buds save the night and i drift, under cover, not sleep as we know it but rest.