Tues 11th May
Today we embark on possibly our most exotic & bizarre British tour to date for we are, more than ever before, a touring troupe or circus; five Batties plus our soundman Rob, augmented by five Uzbek musicians and two dancers, a translator, three Scottish dancers/musicians and one 'assistant to the Uzbeks'. This extravaganza is effectively the return match of our tour in Uzbekistan in 2002, where we first met all these fantastic musicians (find the tour notes in the archive), and has been made possible by grants from the Scottish Arts Council, the English Arts Council and Visiting Arts, all coordinated by our manager, Robin Morton.

In the morning, Alasdair and I pick up the Uzbek musicians who have just arrived on the overnight train from London after flying to the U.K. from Tashkent. A beautiful day, we drive them, singing, through Holyrood park, bathed in sunshine to Temple for some breakfast, a photo-shoot, and a recording session. They record three tracks – in one take of course – before we take them to their accommodation for a brief sleep before an afternoon rehearsal and more photos for the press.

The first few days follow this pattern while we figure out what to play together. Luckily the weather smiles on us and we play outside for several days teaching each other a couple of tunes and drinking mountains of choi (tea).

Eventually it becomes Sunday, two days before the first concert, and the Uzbek dancers Saida and Nargiza have arrived from Uzbekistan as well as our own dancers – John, Donal, and Allison, fresh from the Sikorski School of Dancing and Deportment (“From Rhum to Rhumba in Five Easy Steps”). This is a kind of dress rehearsal and gives us a clue as to what form the show might take.

Tuesday 17th May
Finally we embark on our first concert after days of preparation, meditation, and choi. The Rosehill theatre sits in Whitehaven on the Cumbrian coast in the north west of England. Luckily it is another sunny day as Ewan (the aforementioned 'assistant to the Uzbeks') and I drive the Uzbeks through the rolling hills sprinkled with sheep and majestic wind farms. The latter obviously makes some impression on our Uzbek friends for its sight is met with tutting from the back. The “tutt” seems to accompany sights of great beauty which inspire awe as well as being an expression of disappointment or disdain as it is in the west. Often this tutting accompanies the rather prolific, though entirely justified, swearing which both Ewan and I practice, especially when we have made some navigational error.“Tutt tutt tutt Ewan….bad boy” sings the chorus from the back of the van.
The concert goes swimmingly and the Cumbrians love the Uzbeks so we are on to a winner. So: pizza and a drive back to Scotland.

Completely sold out, this was a marvellous show complete with standing ovation. Apparently this has not happened before at Aros: A wee bit electricity through the seats works a treat every time. After the concert we adjourn to the highly civilised Tonguadale hotel - our home for the night – where Eileen Fraser looks after us in sterling fashion with salad, meat, and bevy: All the prime ingredients for a happy Uzbek - and Batty of course..