On the way over, in the car, Owen and I played the best travel game ever. It is called 'Tractor' and these are the rules.
- Every time you see a tractor, you shout "Tractor!" and, if you are the first person to see it, you get a point.
- A Moving Tractor is worth 2 points.
- A Dead Tractor (rusty and/or obviously not functional) is worth 3 points
- An Aquatic Tractor (tractor in river) is worth 4 points
- A Tractor On Fire is an automatic win (this has never happened).
The hotel we stayed in - which was also where the band played - was over 100 years old and apparently haunted (although I slept like a drunken log). The owners of the place had added to the overall spookiness by painting a Face on the glass door leading to the first floor balcony. The face looked like the product of a union between Legolas (Orlando Bloom version) and David Bowie in Labyrinth. It was more ridiculous than eerie, but our friends the Oxford boys (a pair of tanklike, freckled brothers who came along for the ride) took one look at it and changed hotels. I mocked the shit out of this - they are HUGE and it is a PAINTING - but it turns out they are preacher's children and don't like ghosts. LOL.
Lots of other stuff happened - my favourite thing about Westport was that the sidewalk had spray-painted NO DOGS signs, but the bar the band played in had no problem with the three dogs that came and went throughout the gig - but I am really meant to be working, so more on this later.
In other news, why would you call your child Denis? Or anything else that is only one letter away from the genitals?