Cardiff St David's Hall, in the heart of the Welsh capital. It was my first visit to this fabulous venue, and although in the past I'd consumed alcohol on the premises (when visiting for rugby internationals), I'd never actually been inside the concert hall. My first impressions of the venue were favourable, as this was the same design layout as the fabulous Bridgewater Hall in Manchester.

No sooner than the gig report was finished for Ipswich, then we’re off on the road to Brighton where they have more bus lanes than you can shake a stick at.  It’s Deborah’s turn to drive down one today. When Karen did it back in April there were no nasty consequences – phew - fingers crossed that it’s the same for Deb. We rendez-vous outside the massive Dome Theatre, hoping that we’ve done the parking thing right, as if there is one thing easier to do in Brighton than drive in a bus lane, it’s park where you are not supposed to!

Picture the scene.... Saturday morning in Holmfirth and we are sitting outside the Bridge with Mike, Ann and Mark watching the octogenarian locals, in flat caps and tweed jackets, stagger in at 11am for their first beer of the day and all we look down at our table where our beverage of choice is a pint of tap water with ice apiece.... how rock and roll are we? Nightmare journey home – it all goes well to Deb’s place but then Karen can’t go through the Blackwall Tunnel and gets diverted via the 20 miles of congestion on the M25 leading to the QE Bridge at Dartford and  eventually opens the front door of her house eight miserable hours after leaving Holmfirth!

After a hectic Friday morning, running around getting Deborah’s car sorted out, taxed  m.o.t'd  etc we are ready for our journey northwards. It is hot when we set out for Holmfirth and it is hot when we arrive. In between we dice with death several times on the M1, as numerous white vans and one lorry driver seem determined to obliterate us and road works push our arrival time further back. Eventually we land in Last of the Summer Wine country and find ourselves back in The Elephant and Castle, our home for the night.

Theatre! Tonight we attended the theatre; a pageant of pure theatrical delights. Tonight’s performance wasn’t good - IT WAS BLOODY FANTASTIC. We said yesterday, that so many times we get asked, “Don’t you get tired?”  Tired of what? Yes we get tired, physically: the planning, the juggling home, work and lives to attend, the long and sometimes tortuous journeys..... You know, those days, like today, when achieving those speeds indicated on those 40mph signs on the gantries above the motorway is an aspiration rather than a restriction

We met some lovely Harley-fans outside the venue, in the still very warm evening sunshine, before the start of the gig; Mike and his mate John and the very tall Dave, all of whom had been reading our little gig reports/travelogs (so glad someone does) and who queried whether attending so many gigs turned them into a blur or diminished the appeal; and ‘weren’t they all the same?’ ‘Oh but they are not' we explained – it’s like following a football team, every match is different, every piece of action is different and to prove a point, the Stables (night 1) delivered yet more twists and turns and surprises....

Some of the views of those who attended and have posted on the Guestbook or Forum form part of this review; a compilation of their thoughts:
 From tidgy (Guestbook):
“First time I have seen the band and the 30 year wait was worth it. Great support act and then a concert sang with aggression and meaning,
Well done lads a terrific evening and the empty seats didn’t bother me one bit.”

“Well – Debs and I have just arrived home after a fabulous time in York!
First time we have been to the Opera House in York, and the venue looked terrific! The seats were excellent - right in the middle of Row G in the stall so we had a great view (mind u I am 6 foot2 so not many people block my view.
The good first impressions were exceeded by the Lartey Sisters – where did you find them Steve?!

After returning late from Wolverhampton to Deb's place we were all so tired, although Deborah had still managed to stay up till 4 am! Sunday morning; the sun was coming up over a sleepy Northampton village, where nothing was stirring, not even the sleeping but  impressed 16 year-old who had been dragged away from baby sitting by her mother the night before to go and see Steve Harley.
Deborah was slightly disappointed at the 500 quid black semi acoustic/electric Yamaha guitar that had sat collecting dust

Keeping this short today as it’s now 3am and we’ve got another long journey ahead of us tomorrow. Despite the worst the weather, the bank holiday traffic and the Wolverhampton ring-road could throw at us we (Deb, Karen and Deb’s daughter, Jess) actually got to the venue today with ten minutes to spare before the doors opened. The grey exterior of the hall said more 1930’s municipal baths than concert venue, but the unassuming exterior belied the array of musical jewels contained within.