Greetings from Oklahoma City. It feels like I’ve been in the US for weeks rather than the four days I’ve actually been away, which I’m taking to be a good sign. Filming seems to be going well, and the whole trip so far has been an absolute pip and a dandy. Among other things I’ve hung out with a genuine Cheyenne elder named Eugene Blackbear, dinged the bell of a 1938 steam railway engine in Wichita, recreated the cornfield scene from North By Northwest, driven through the most spectacular thunderstorm I’ve ever seen and, most excitingly, performed a few songs at a bluegrass festival in Cottonwood Falls, Kansas, backed by a proper bluegrass band wearing dungarees and everything. No-one threw anything, which I’m taking as a good sign. After a few tellings, the story will no doubt develop into me absolutely tearing the place up and being offered contracts by every major record company in north America.
I’ve also managed to get spectacularly sunburnt, just as I did while filming in Denmark for the Holiday programme last year, which should make for some interesting red faced sequences in the film. Still, at least Eugene Blackbear couldn’t call me ‘paleface’.
Other than that, I’m eating too much barbecue food, have been asked twice if I’m Australian, trodden in buffalo poo and worn the same set of clothes since I arrived (it’s all to do with continuity apparently).
Just got back to the rather swanky hotel here in Oklahoma City having been to see a quite startling blues guitarist called Otis Wilson in a near-deserted bar. He was so good that I want to have his children, so I’m going to sign off now and Google him.
Be good.