It was a long day

which started with a midday walk along the canal and through Regent's Park and through the back streets of Euston, past the good people distributing food to the hungry, homeless and wasted at Euston and past Friend's House to The Harrison in Harrison street where I just managed to catch the first act of the afternoon (Dan Korn and Joe Sharp).

The first duet was followed by another duet, the fast young fiddler Kieran Towers and his partner in crime Charlotte Carrivick who entertained us with some stories and a few jokes while tuning (and some songs with original names, it goes without saying )

and the third duet of the afternoon, Jolene and Hippy Joe (who somehow didn't make it to this photo), which seemed the sort of a duet that just had to be present on a day like this and at an event like this.

 Then came the first non-duet of the afternoon (I know just as you get settled in an say, ah, I get it, I understand how this is going), which was M G Boulter 

and his bass player (and a drummer who was lurking in the dark, so no really good shots of her).

 But then we were back to duets, with the dynamic duet known as 

the Silken Same.

At this point of the afternoon I received a phone call (which I didn't hear, but luckily I was also sent a text message) that there is a ticket waiting for me at the door of the Green Note for the long sold out Girls to the Front. So what should a man do? I packed my camera and walked the couple of miles to Camden where I unfortunately just missed Rhiannon Scutt (who I was told was excellent and definitely someone to look out for), but managed to arrive in time to see Sophia Marshall (and I do wish (as I am sure everybody else does) a speedy recovery to her sister)

and the dreamy sounds of Lyla Foy who followed her (are you still keeping track of who I have seen on this day?).

The evening at the Girls to the Front was brought to an end by Gitta de Ridder, but was this the end of the evening for us? No, of course not!

 This time I was lucky that the great patrons of the arts, the Parkin brothers from Liverpool, took me into their cab (I only had a bit of shrapnel in my pocket at this stage of the day or night, whatever we prefer to call it) and we all headed back to the Harrison to see the last band of the night, The Gator Dog Snappers

 who played some New Orleans music for us (which finally put a smile on my darkened soul) until they could play no more. So, after another brisk walk through King's Cross and Euston and the London's unwanted I caught a couple of night buses (as in a town that never sleeps, the tube does unfortunately go to bed at night)  home just in time to bid you all goodnight.