Quick note from the British version of a truck stop, which is infinitely nicer. There's not the lingering stink of cigarette smoke that you find off I-65, nor are there any sketchy people. Everyone here looks so proper, it feels more like a mall.
Last night's show at the Cross Keys Folk Club was great fun. We played in "the barn," a small stone room that felt just like an English cottage. It was a quiet crowd, polite, no one spoke at all. One man sat in the front row and harmonized with all my songs, which was a surprisingly fun addition to the night. There were at least four people who showed up specifically to hear me ... so that was nice.
Anyway, we're off to have lunch in Wales because, well, we can.