Simon Hewitt Jones - The Violin Blog

Mar

23

Simon Hewitt Jones’ Diary

Filed Under Travelblog | 

Friday 23 March (with apologies to Helen Fielding)

So far this month: performances 20, recordings 2, conferences 1, full english breakfasts 9, road miles 2200 (approx), calories 94725424382947, carbon footprint [unprintable]

simon honda practice
broken down car + honda showroom = unexpected half hour of practice

Food consumed today:
52 grapes (rest of bunch thrown at passing traffic for entertainment purposes)
2 hash browns (greasy)
1 Stormhoek (hello Hugh)
3 Easter Eggs (Tesco 3 for £3 Multibuy discount)

Friday Afternoon. Yorkshire: Daniel’s Skoda. Ugh. Just one more day to go before the drive back down to London. How do I summon the physical, emotional, mental engagement necessary for us to drive over to Scarborough for a day of outreach before returning home?

We switch on Radio 3, and on pops In Tune. Subject? Tony Hewitt Jones! Late grandfather’s Seven Sea Poems (see previous posts) are being performed in London on Saturday. Sadly I won’t be there; I’m standing in at the Choir of London concert of John Rutter’s new Requiem; they’re taking me to the Palestine Mozart Festival on Wednesday after all (blogging permission granted - watch this space!).

… [BANG] …

Daniel’s glasses go flying; I’m jolted sideways. Thank goodness for seatbelts. White Van Man is apologetic… we’ll spend the rest of the day on the phone to the insurance company, but it still drives. Perhaps the writing off of a Skoda Felicia (10 years old; bright purple) is a blessing in disguise…

The phone rings. It’s Gemma from LMN. Unbeknown to me, I’ve left my passport on a remote farm B&B in West Wales. The one where we arrived at at 7 in the morning after it took us nearly half a day to get there after a trafficmeltdown on the M4. The one where I proudly announced to the owner that I was ‘mildly Welsh’, only to be looked in the eye with the retort: ‘Very Mild’.

I phone.

“Helooo.”

“Hello. It’s Simon Hewitt Jones here. Is that Selwyn Evans?”

“Ah. Yes, you. Helooo.”

“Erm… I gather I left my passport at your farm. I’m going to Israel on Wednesday. Would you be able to send it to me? I’d be very grateful.”

“Israel? Hmmmm. I know it well. I’d be very happy to come with you.”

“I’m not sure I can afford for you to come too. But if you can send it, I’d really appreciate it. I’ll recommend you to all my friends and I promise I’ll come to stay next time I’m in Wales.”

“Hmmmm. I’ll have to check with the wife. I’m not sure if you’ll be allowed to stay, after all the trouble you’ve caused. Where are you now?”

“We’ve just been thrown out of a hotel in Northallerton. We’re on our way to wreck a B&B in Scarborough“.

“Well, I’ll see what I can do.”

Thus friendships are made.

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