Brilliant, bonkers and Bond it like Beckham - Boyle's triumphant Olympic opening ceremony

Boy, am I tired this morning! I'm not suited to sitting up till 1am and then getting up at 7:30 for a meeting. I'm an old lady (about to be older) and I need my sleep. The fact that this was written yesterday shows just how tired I was - after a busy day, I collapsed on the sofa and went to bed early last night. Anyway, here's my account of Friday's Olympic opening ceremony.

I usually avoid these things because they bore me. A lights show and lots of people walking round. And boring speeches.However, with the Games here, I thought it was my duty to have a look at it. Maybe I was intrigued to see what Danny Boyle would do with the £27 million budget. Given that Trainspotting disturbed me more than any other film I've ever watched, I was slightly anxious, I have to confess.

I was not disappointed. It was slightly unsettling to see the Stadium filling with livestock to complement the green and pleasant land scene which started the show. What's that they say about working with children and animals? There were maypoles and morris dancing and Jerusalem, Danny Boy, Cwm Rhondda and Flower of Scotland to reflect the entire UK. As the ceremony started, there was a fast fly through along the Thames from its source to the Olympic Stadium which had more than a nod to Trainspotting for me. This came after a spectacular fly past by the Red Arrows who'd had a long  day covering the UK.

The first mystery of the night was who would ring the huge Olympic Bell to get the ceremony under way. I was dreading Cameron or Boris. My first bout of blubbing came when Bradley Wiggins, winner of the Tour De France, stepped forward, in yellow, to do it.

The country idyll in the Stadium was soon transformed into an industrial landscape complete with dark, Satanic mills and Kenneth Branagh as Isambard Kingdom Brunel. Each stage had the participation of hundreds of extras in costume. There was a nod to the Suffragettes, too, and to the benefits immigration has brought this country.  The workers on the ground forged Olympic rings which lifted into the sky in good time to provide a sensational image for today's front pages.

For me, the moment of the night was the scene filmed at Buckingham Palace. Having visited it last year, you knew that they were definitely filming in there. They'd even managed to find a couple of corgis.  It never dawned on me that they were the actual Queen's dogs, and even after the grey haired lady said "Good Evening, Mr Bond" my brain just wouldn't compute that it was the actual Queen and not Miranda Hart dressed up or something.

So, we saw the Queen head into a helicopter with James Bond from the Palace, we saw the progress of the helicopter and wondered where it would land. Well, the occupants parachuted out and a few moments later, the Queen was introduced walking to her seat. Pure, dead brilliant!

What happened next prompted Tory MP for Cannock Chase Adrian Burley to tweet that the ceremony had been full of "leftie multi-cultural crap". Hopefuly his constituents in Cannock Chase will give him the boot for that in 2015. There was a huge celebration of the NHS and children's literature as children in hospital beds were read to in a celebration of British authors - and one of the people reading to the kids was J K Rowling herself. There was a massive Voldemort, loads of Mary Poppinses arriving on umbrellas

That gave way to a celebration of British film and music with all sorts of iconic sights and sounds. There was even a whoosh of the TARDIS which was the only homage to Doctor Who. A fair part of the fandom wanted David Tennant's Doctor to light the flame like he did in the 2006 episode Fear Her.

There was a poignant moment as the victims of 7/7 were remembered accompanied by Emili Sande singing "Abide with Me". This wasn't shown in the US, sadly, where an interview with Michael Phelps was deemed more important, much to the choreographer's annoyance. It made me think how many British people and organisations had put time and effort into making sure those who died on 9/11 weren't forgotten. NBC, the official US broadcaster, should take note.

You would have thought that the arrangement of Chariots of Fire conducted by Simon Rattle would leave not a dry eye in the house. And you'd be right. Actually, though, they were mostly of laughter as Rowan Atkinson's Mr Bean, placed on a keyboard in the middle of the London Symphony Orchestra played his part with his usual comic brilliance. There can't be anyone on the planet who does facial expressions better.

The parade of the athletes entering the stadium gave us the opportunity to laugh at the unchic sheen of the French team's trousers, of the 1970s cabin crew uniform of the US team and the hilariously camp and gender stereotyped jackets of the German team who looked like they could be headed for the West End stage rather than the sports field. My husband left school in the late 60s and clearly hasn't done much in the way of atlas studying since. "That's not a country, is it?" was a constant refrain. The flags were arranged in the one remnant of the rural scene from the beginning which remained, a reproduction of Glastonbury Tor.

We'd been promised a spectacular entrance for the Olympic flame which had been resting for several hours on a barge near Tower Bridge. It was next seen as darkness fell speeding up the Thames in a power boat accompanied by a very suave looking David Beckham and one of our female football stars of the future. It made me think of James Bond again.

After the Bond it Like Beckham moment, the flame was met, as everyone had speculated, by multiple gold medal winner Sir Steve Redgrave. So, he was bound to be lighting the flame wasn't he?

But before we could find out, we had speeches to listen to. I guess we should be grateful there was no raffle, but people had paid out so much for their tickets, they probably wouldn't have been able to afford it. Anyway, Sebastian Coe and Olympic President Jacques Rogge didn't really speak for that long, but it was still way beyond most people's tolerance levels. It was left to our wonderful 86 year old Queen show how she was a master of the art of brevity - she simply declared the Games open. That was it.

Another moment of blubbery for me came when the Olympic flag was paraded around. Two of the people carrying it were Shami Chakrabarti, one of the strongest voices for liberal values in this country if not the world and Doreen Lawrence, whose refusal to accept the shortcomings of the establishment led her to fight for years to ensure that her son's killers were brought to justice.

So, Sir Steve ran in with the flame, looking for all the world that he was going to light the as yet unseen cauldron. And he would have succeeded if it hadn't been for a bunch of kids! Seven young athletes, nominated by greats of the past, put the Games' theme, "inspire a generation" into reality. It was them, not a famous name, who set the cauldron, constructed from the copper petals each nation brought in with them, alight. It was beautiful.

The ceremony closed with Sir Paul McCartney singing Hey Jude and lots of fireworks. One of my favourite people with one of my least favourite things. It was pretty spectacular, though.

It all made Mitt Romney's churlish and rude comments seem even more inappropriate. I liked the homage to Tim Berners-Lee, too,a reminder that it was a Brit who invented the internet, not Al Gore.

I'm so looking forward to two weeks of watching all sorts of weird and wonderful sports. Nadia Comaneci made me fall in love with gymnastics in 1976, and I love swimming although I rarely watch it at any other time. Then there's the archery and rowing and dressage and diving and cycling. Bring it all on! Let's hope it all goes fabulously well. Yes, I hate the corporate dominance too, but the Games are here. Once they are over, we have precisely nothing to look forward to. Let's enjoy every second while we can.

I've made a Storify thingy of my tweets on the night to capture my heat of the moment thoughts and interactions with others.

It was an night where I, along with half the country, alternated between laughing, crying and wide eyed wonderment. No wonder Stephen Tall has chosen Danny Boyle as his liberal hero of the week over at the Centre Forum blog.

Happy 70th Birthday to Sir Paul McCartney

Hard to believe, but my childhood hero, former Beatle Paul McCartney turns 70 today. You wouldn't think it, given the stamina he showed on stage last December when my niece Laura and I, with a Responsible Adult in tow, went to see him. Over 3 hours on stage and over 43 songs. You can read my review of that event here. The bands of today would be completely floored just looking at such a setlist. That evening was definitely one of the highlights of my life.

One of the things I really liked about McCartney was that, unlike many other musicians of the same vintage, he was really family orientated. He didn't figure much in the tabloid headlines because his private life was too boring. He kept his kids well out of the limelight and just got on with his life.

You'll probably all be aware that I'm a committed carnivore, but I see some merit in the Meat Free Monday campaign that McCartney has become associated with. Yesterday's Sunday Times, with the cringeworthy headline "Give Peas a Chance" trailed this new video he's released on the subject but it's behind the paywall. It's a wee bit rambling, but makes some interesting points about why it's in our long term environmental and health interests not to eat meat every day. You can't really argue with that.

For those of you who don't have access to that, here's an earlier video of him singing his Meat Free Monday song:



So, Happy Birthday, to Sir Paul. I really appreciate him providing 3 generations of our family with the soundtrack to our lives. It was great to see him closing the Diamond Jubilee concert and to know that he will also be singing at the Olympics opening ceremony.


If I have half as much energy as he does when I turn 70, I'll be happy. 

McCartney in Liverpool - what You Tube has to offer

Ok, nothing beats being there, but You Tube has a good selection of videos of the evening and they bring back some memories and some goosebumps. Here are some of the best I've found so far.

Specifically for my friend Allan and fans of George Harrison and Ukelele playing - Ram On



Here Today - including the Cilla Black story and booing



Penny Lane



The Word - All you need is love



The pyrotechnical Live and Let Die



Band on the Run



The fabulously trashy Ob-La-Di Ob-La-Da



Wonderful Christmastime



Mull of Kintyre



Thanks to all the people with better recording facilities than I have.

Review: That Paul McCartney Concert

The adventures of 2 Beatles obsessives and a Responsible Adult in Liverpool, Part 3


You may also want to read Parts One and Two of this happy tale.

As you can see, our seats were really good. They should have been at £105 a go, certainly, but you can tell how quickly they were going by the fact that I literally bought them seconds after they went on sale and these were the best I could get.

But I'm getting ahead of myself. The last instalment ended as Laura and I were being dragged from the Beatles Story by the Responsible Adult. We went back to our hotel with just enough time for a quick change before heading back to the Arena. Our plan had been to go to Pizza Express just outside the arena, but it was mobbed. I remembered that the nearby Jury's Inn did good carveries, so we decided to head in there and they managed to squeeze us in. Now, I don't want you to think that this was entirely without guilt. It did feel a little bit wrong to be savouring a delicious piece of perfectly cooked lamb before going to see a committed vegetarian.

Doors to the Echo Arena apparently opened at 6, but it was around 7 that we actually joined the queues outside in the rain. It was quite clear that the concert was not going to start on time as it was nearly 7:30 by the time we found our seats and the 11000 capacity arena was only about a third full. Our wait was made easier by meeting the girl from the Beatles Story right in front of us and chatting to her and reading our programmes. Usually these things are overpriced and you don't feel like you're getting value for money. Not this time. Not far off being the best £15 I ever spent:

It's crammed full of interviews with Paul McCartney, the band, his family and has all sorts of information about the tour and about the things Paul cares about, like his campaign for Meat Free Mondays. He talks about how he spoke to the European Parliament about it. There's loads of pictures old and new, a big plug for the book of Linda McCartney's photos.

Even thinking about this event still gives me goosebumps. One of the images that will stay with me for a very , very long time is the look on Laura's face when Paul finally came on stage, a fashionable 45 minutes late. It was a really emotional moment for her and it was very special to see her so happy.

It was quite hard to take in that his iconic figure was literally a few metres in front of us. I tended to focus on the small figure on the stage rather than look at the huge screens at the side, just to reinforce the reality of it all.

It really made me smile to see his very shiny new wedding ring from his recent marriage to Nancy Shevell. He was wearing a two piece grey suit, but the jacket was ditched after a few songs and he rolled up the sleeves of his pink shirt to make it all a bit more relaxed and less formal.

Paul McCartney had precious few of the stunts and special effects commonly used by many artists today, but he did have himself and five decades of fantastic music and anecdotes to share. There were a few pyrotechnics round Live and Let Die but that was pretty much it.

He went straight into one of my favourite songs, Hello, Goodbye which, understandably, is a bit of a traditional concert opener for him.

You got a sense of how long his career had been going on and how many of the truly great musicians he'd worked with and been friends with. He talked about how humbled he'd felt when Jimi Hendrix had played Sergeant Pepper's Lonely Hearts Club Band just three days after it had been released. He went on to describe how Hendrix had been showing off and had made his guitar go out of tune. He apparently asked Eric Clapton, who was in the audience, to tune it for him and Clapton told him, basically, to go and get raffled. That song came out the year I was born ,which is a very long time ago.

He talked about writing Blackbird not as a crusading, political song, but to bring comfort and hope to those fighting for civil rights in the States.

He shared a joke he'd had with his little girl, Beatrice about the Royal Wedding (and was quite taken aback when some booed the mentions of the royals). He'd said he wanted Prince William to say "I, Will." A typical Dad joke, I think,

I can't remember what song it was, but he went wrong at one point and they just stopped and started again. He mentioned a prior occasion when Cilla Black had been in the audience and thought it was all part of the script. I was really surprised to hear Cilla being booed by the audience, though, a good Liverpool lass that she is. I'm not sure what she's done to offend her home town. A bit of a search on Google suggests some resentment towards her for at one time being less than hostile towards the Tories as the reported spat between Cilla and Ricky Tomlinson shows.

What was utterly remarkable is that this man at the date of the concert was 69 years, 6 months and 2 days old. He was on stage for over 3 hours, singing 43 songs and he never even stopped for a drink. You can see from the set list below just how diverse a performer he is with songs ranging from Helter Skelter to Oh-blah-dee, from Back in the USSR to yesterday, from Band on the Run to the seasonally appropriate Wonderful Christmastime.

So many of the songs on this list are so engrained not just in the minds of fans but as a soundtrack to everyone's lives. Hey Jude, the song McCartney wrote to comfort Julian Lennon when his dad went off with Yoko had as all standing singing our hearts out, as did All You Need is Love and Give Peace a Chance.

Edit this setlist | More Paul McCartney setlists

The second encore was all about contrasts. We were jetisonned out of our Yesterday and Mull of Kintyre mellowness (complete with band of piping children from the Loretto school in Edinburgh) by a lively, raucous and loud performance of Helter Skelter. Not that that song could ever be anything other than loud of course.

By the end of the evening, the Responsible Adult had turned. She was still Responsible, but Paul had won her over.

All of these songs, are, of course, available on You Tube to watch any time, but there is no substitute for being there, in the epicentre of that cauldron of emotion, with 11,000 others enjoying, revering, getting lost in the music every bit as much as you are. I'm so glad I took the opportunity to go while I had the chance. One of the themes of this year for me has really been about how important it is to appreciate what you have while you're lucky enough to have it, to seize the moment while you can. I'm glad we seized this one.

Update: How can I have forgotten the part where he sang "Here Today" an imagined conversation he'd have had with John Lennon, written shortly after his death.

 And if I say I really knew you well, 
What would your answer be? 
If you were here today. 
Uh, uh, uh, here today. 

Well, knowing you, 
You'd probably laugh and say 
That we were worlds apart. 
If you were here today. 
Uh, uh, uh, here today. 

But as for me, 
I still remember how it was before 
And I am holding back the tears no more. 
Uh, uh, uh, 
I love you, uh. 
[ Lyrics from: http://www.lyricsfreak.com/p/paul+mccartney/here+today_20105758.html ] 
What about the time we met? (what about the time?) 
Well, I suppose that you could say 
That we were playing hard to get. 
Didn't understand a thing, 
But we could always sing. 

What about the night we cried? (what about the night) 
Because there wasn't any reason 
Left to keep it all inside. 
Never understood a word, 
But you were always there with a smile. 

And if I say I really loved you 
And was glad you came along. 
Then you were here today, 
Uh, uh, uh, for you were in my song. 

Uh, uh, uh, here today.

And I should also mention, in contrast to that which had us all in tears, the jubilant rendition of Penny Lane, an addition to the set list for that concert alone.

An afternoon at the Beatles Story

The adventures of two Beatles obsessives and a Responsible Adult in Liverpool, Part Two


(Part One of this merry tale is here)

After a suitable break for Christmas, I thought I'd continue telling you about our adventures in Liverpool last week.

The first thing I want to say is that we all pretty much fell in love with Liverpool. It's such a warm city. I don't mean in climate, as although the papers all said it was unseasonally warm, we spent most of the time freezing. The people are incredibly friendly and open, though and the cabbies don't try to rip you off. Slightly frustrating was a trip to the Liverpool One shopping centre and finding that those toys which you can't get for love nor money up here were piled high. This was after I'd sourced a particular Moshi Monsters thing from the internet and paid over the odds for it for my niece. If only I'd known....

When we arrived we walked from Lime Street station through the beautiful town centre. We loved the fact that it was pedestrianised from the station right to our hotel.

We were peckish after we'd checked in at our hotel, so we went in search of lunch. We ended up eating from street stalls pretty inexpensively. The Responsible Adult and I had mustard chicken and garlic potatoes from the French themed one. It was absolutely delicious, piping hot and well cooked. We loved it.  Laura had a Thai Green curry from another stall which also looked fresh and appetising.

We then decided to head down to the Albert Dock. I was old enough to remember the days when This Morning was broadcast from a studio there and weather forecasts were broadcast from a map of Britain floating in the water. It annoys me now to look up and discover that it's 15 years since they broadcast there. I surely can't be that old. The studio itself is now a bar called Pan Am.

We then headed to the Beatles Story, which describes itself as an "atmospheric journey into the life, times, culture and music of the Beatles". I guess we've become quite accustomed to very interactive exhibits, but in this place there's none of that. You have an audio guide and there are thousands of things to look at that. You can make your way round at your own pace. We had a couple of hours in there and for Laura and I it was nowhere near enough. Like wide eyed, excited children, we pored over things like the programme for the fete where Paul McCartney first saw John Lennon (though they didn't actually meet until the gig that evening), letters written by Brian Epstein,a suit donated by John Lennon for his waxwork at Madame Tussaud's. Now, while every single object was a delight to be examined from every possible angle for us, the Responsible Adult soon got bored. She was very patient and, to her credit,  it took her nearly 2.5 hours before she snapped and hustled us out of there lest we be late for the concert.

The exhibition took us on a chronological journey through Beatles history, starting with a mock up of the Casbah club - a right dive if the formica table and packets of Marlboro are to be believed. We went through the Cavern years, the Epstein years, sat on a mock up of a jet while watching footage of them arriving in the USA and looked through the periscope of the Yellow Submarine. There weren't many places to sit down, but the exhibits provided some opportunities before we unfit people almost collapsed from exhaustion. We lived through the psychedelic era and the pain of the eventual split before the celebrations of the 4 as separate artists since.

I want, actually need,  to go back there, because I only managed to properly pore over about 10% of the exhibits to my satisfaction. The staff there are also really friendly and knowledgable, probably because they are fans themselves. As it happens, one of them, the lovely Charlotte, was sitting right in front of us at the concert and her devotion to Paul was very clear, shall we say?

A place run on Charlotte's level of enthusiasm and love for the Beatles can't be bad.

And now, a wee test. Two photos of the Cavern Club stage. Which is real and which is the mock up in the Beatles Story?

Catching a Beatle in Liverpool and the Hard Day's Night Hotel

The Adventures of two Beatles obsessives and a Responsible Adult in Liverpool Part One

I may have briefly mentioned in passing on Twitter and Facebook that I went to Liverpool this week with my gorgeous niece Laura to see Paul McCartney perform in the town where he was born. We took a Responsible Adult with us to keep us in order.

We set off before 7 on Tuesday morning. Our different travelling styles were evident from our luggage:

The mahoosive suitcase belongs to Laura and the RA. The rucksack is mine. I took the view that jammies and a change of clothes would be all I'd need. Not that I bother with things like hair straighteners anyway, but I felt that I was going to be in a dark room with several thousand other people and nobody would be looking at me. And, anyway, time spent grooming is time not spent exploring Beatles stuff.

An hour into our journey the sun rose. You can see Laura's reflection in the window:

It was round about this stage that we realised that none of us had remembered to bring a proper camera. We knew our iPhones just wouldn't give us what we wanted from the concert, so we ended up buying a cheap Fujifilm effort in the Jessops sale in Liverpool.

While we were travelling, I gave a reference for someone by phone. While I was talking, just for sport, the Responsible Adult texted me 22 times, with a single letter each time, to distract me. We were clearly going to be fine with her looking after us!

We arrived in Liverpool just before 12 and decided to walk through the town centre to our hotel. We don't do this sort of thing very often so we'd decided to treat ourselves to a night at the only Beatles themed hotel in the world, the Hard Day's Night Hotel which was literally round the corner from the famous Cavern Club.

Opened in 2008, it's situated in North John Street. The exterior of the building has statues of the Fab 4 as well as huge photographs.

Inside it's a totally tasteful treasure trove of Beatles artwork and memories. The main feature  of the hotel is  a five floor spiral staircase. Walking down it, you see a timeline with each floor being dedicated to a particular Beatles decade with life size photographs. It's absolutely stunning. I stupidly didn't take any photos on my iPhone and didn't get the chance to download the ones we took on the new camera before Laura took it to Inverness, but I'll post them when I get them.

My room was on the fifth floor and my jaw hit the floor as I realised what I'd be sleeping under. I mean, how gorgeous is this?

The bathroom was almost as big as the room itself.

Laura and the Responsible Adult took a room with a view of the Cavern Pub, which is just across the street from the Cavern Club. For some reason I was chosen to be the one to lean out of the window to take this.

The bed was oh, so comfy - and it is slightly the hotel's fault that I didn't get to spend as much time in it as I would have liked. Although there's a wow round every corner in the place as you see some other object of beauty, we found that the service wasn't quite what you'd expect from a four star hotel.

The bar is waiter service only. The good side of that is that they will never have a drunkenness problem because there aren't enough hours in the day to drink enough, given the length of time you have to wait to be served. We returned, parched, from the concert after midnight and had to wait for half an hour. The Responsible Adult remonstrated on several occasions with the three staff to no avail. They said they were busy. Someone should take these poor delicate souls to a hotel in the middle of a Liberal Democrat conference so they could see just what busy means. There were 3 of them with 8 tables of less than 20 people to serve and they weren't moving around the place with any sense of urgency. The two male waiters were monosyllabic and their attitude stank. The female member of staff was at least friendly and apologetic. It was obvious to us how they could organise themselves better and it was very frustrating to have to wait for so long.

At least we had a pretty tree to look at, though:

Our wait was made more enjoyable by talking to a lovely couple who'd come all the way from Alaska to see Paul McCartney. They saw both concerts - Manchester on Monday and Liverpool on Tuesday and really enjoyed themselves. They had come all that way for less than a week as they had to get back to spend Christmas with their family, including their baby grandson. 

The breakfast was absolutely delicious, but the hotel failed on my Knife Test. I really can't stand it when you are given one knife that you're expected to eat your cooked breakfast with and butter your toast. There is no excuse for such meanness. My love for Earl Grey tea was fortunate because I was given a pot with enough for 3 cups in it while Laura and the Responsible Adult had to ask for a refill every time - and that took a while. 

I do, however, judge a place on the quality of its sausages - and this one passed. They were meaty, well flavoured and generously proportioned. They served up tinned fruit, but it tasted lovely. The grapefruit was sharp and the oranges were full of flavour and rich with sweetness. The peaches had a good hint of vanilla in the syrup. 

I liked the table decoration, too.

And I want one of these.

And the view was amazing.

I would recommend the hotel because it is absolutely gorgeous, comfortable and unique. However, they could definitely improve their attitude and service. There's a certain arrogance there - it's almost as if they know they'll get the business so they don't have to bother too much. Their location and artwork are enough to wow a first time, but it's treating people well that makes them want to go back. That's a lesson they could do well to learn.

There are many more tales from this trip to be told, but our Christmas turkey, sadly, is not going to buy itself. 

Hope you don't mind being ditched for Paul McCartney.....

I may have mentioned this once or twice in passing over the past couple of months, but now the day is almost upon me, I am maybe just a tiny bit hyper. And this is why.

Blogging will be light until Thursday as I'm going to be away in Liverpool, the city where the Beatles grew up and first performed, to see Paul McCartney play in his home town at the Echo Arena.

I was doing ok (aye, right) until I read this blurb about the concert. I mean:

As anyone who has seen it will confirm, the Paul McCartney live experience goes so much further than simply a normal concert.  Throughout, Paul takes his audience on an emotional journey that touches everyone in a different way.  Whether performing to just 200 or 500,000 people, Paul has the ability to connect with everyone in the audience.  When this is coupled with the most envied and respected back catalogue in music, you have the ingredients for a once in a lifetime experience.   On stage, Paul barely has time to catch his breath as he jumps from instrument to instrument, bounds tirelessly around the stage and sings nearly 40 songs - the ultimate value for money show. 

Best pack extra tissues then. Looks like we are in for a treat.

We set off before the crack of dawn tomorrow morning. Let's just hope that there are no seasonal mishaps and the trains are running fine because our connection at Waverley is neat to say the least.

I understand that the people I'm going with are taking a suite of luggage - hair straighteners, 15 changes of clothes, the works. I, on the other hand am taking a small rucksack with jammies, 1 change of clothes and a toothbrush. I take the view that, yes, I'm going to be in an arena with several thousand other people but it will be dark and I won't be the centre of attention.

We are staying in the Hard Day's Night Hotel in the heart of the Beatles Quarter. Yes, an indulgence, but how often do you go to see one of the greatest music legends of all time?

I shall, of course, tell you about it all when I get back.

Excitement Central: I'm going to see Paul McCartney in Liverpool!

The very first single I ever bought with my own pocket money was Wings' Mull of Kintyre. It might not be the height of fashion now but in 1977 most of the population were, like me, totally captivated by a beautiful song and video shot in the spectacular and slightly haunting Argyll scenery. 

To this day, it's a song that absolutely comforts me. In fact, Paul McCartney's distinctive voice is likely to do the same, to be honest. I love John Lennon's as well, but he doesn't have the same effect.

I didn't know much about the history of the Beatles - in fact, I thought that Paul McCartney just sang songs like Mull of Kintyre so some of the Wings repertoire and indeed, the B Side to Mull of Kintyre, Girls' School, was a bit of a shock. All a bit grown up for me at that time.

For my 11th birthday, the book of their 1976 US Tour was top of  my birthday list. I actually don't know where it is now. I'm hoping it's still at my parents' somewhere.

I have been a huge McCartney fan ever since Mull of Kintyre - and that fandom extended to Linda, too. I was totally devastated when she died. There was never any chance I'd be able to do the veggie thing, but I admired her passion on the issue.

With all this history, you can imagine my excitement when my gorgeous niece Laura phoned me the other night to say that Paul McCartney was touring this December. She was mad keen to go. I ended up being entrusted with buying the tickets online this morning as she was at work. I was fairly certain she'd kill me if I failed. She never actually said so, but I didn't want to take the risk.  That prospect wasn't as bad, though,  as the thought of her being sad and disappointed if she couldn't go. She was on the phone at 8:30 to make sure I was ready to do my duty. I didn't feel pressured at all.............

Thankfully, though, I refreshed the page just as the tickets became available and have secured 3 for me, Laura and my sister.They cost an arm and a leg - and a few internal organs as well. It will be worth it, though. I just hope the weather doesn't muck things up for us.....

It's going to be a fantastic start to the Festive Season. If Laura gets her way we'll stay at the Hard Days Night Hotel.  I'd love to stay in the Lennon Suite, with its white baby grand piano, but I don't have enough internal organs left for that.

I'm sure it's going to be such a good show. It was lovely to see him so happy on Sunday when he married Nancy Shevell. It's hard to believe he's going to be 70 next year. I have been to precious few concerts in my life but this is a fantastic opportunity and I can't wait............