We got there driving along the hills, hundreds of sheep walking around on the green grass, on the slopes, a big beautiful rainbow bowed grandly far away. Heavy clouds but the sun shone through in between them. It was magical. I just stared. Rolled down the window and breathed in the fresh air. Had to stop a couple of times to open gates so we could pass. And push away sheep just laying there on the small gravel road. We got to the house. It looks like a small castle, made of stone. It's on the southern English countryside. We had tea and biscuits with Andy's family. His son Adam, his cousin, his father and uncle too. There were daughters and boyfriends too. A nice dog.
“This documentary is about ten years old”, I say and Andy's father is commenting again. “Have they improved?”
Andy's father once saw Dean & Britta play and they met after the show. He told Dean “you should let Britta sing more". Dean quoted it himself in his blog at the time.
A stew was cooking in a huge heavy iron pot, and a big butternut squash was getting ready to be chopped in smaller pieces and roasted in the oven. “What band are you following?”, they asked us.
Andy put on the credit part of the Tell Me Do You Miss Me documentary. While the credits are shown, with Andy's name at the top of the thank you list, 23 Minutes in Brussels is played. We are sitting in this kitchen, everyone is watching, some extraordinary live shots of the band is shown with the credits. Chocolate biscuits with almonds and dried fruit. The British love those kind of things. Dean is a playing a solo, the swirling light from the small TV in the kitchen flashes.
It's quiet for some seconds, a bit unusual in this family I think. "So you saw them yesterday too", Andy's cousin asks. "And the day before that too?" We are forced to have one more cookie. We split it in two and eat, it's very tasty. “Actually tonight will be the eighth time this trip”, we tell them. The happy dog runs from knee to knee, the tail's wagging back and forth. The fur is silky smooth. “This documentary is about ten years old”, I say and Andy's father is commenting again. “Have they improved?”
After the extra day in New York, when Britta sent us the e-mail asking us if we wanted to have dinner with them, we flew to Manchester. In Manchester, we checked in to our beautiful hotel and Ulrika fell asleep right away. With ocean sounds in her earbuds, she likes to listen swelling waves when she's sleeping. And to A Swinging Safari when she's flying. Music is comforting. I went out for a walk and to meet our friend Bengt. He hasn't listened to Luna much, but decided to travel around the UK with us.