DC17148:
citycat:
DC17148:
When driving Band Bus’s in the 90s I was living in Chester Le Street and working for a London based company, and as if that wasn’t a silly enough commute, I then moved to a company operating out of Plymouth.
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Was the London firm Len Wright by any chance? Well, Watford really.
“Len Wright.” Oh no, they were our main rivals. I worked for Berryhurst based in Vauxhall London, not like those country bumkins Len Wright out at Watford. Ha Ha
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I was on for Len Wright in 88 and 89, though only did a total of seven months touring over those two years before I thought ‘sod that for a game of soldiers’.
As you probably know yourself, band bus driver isn’t as glamorous as it looks. Apart from the long night drives, you are also a glorified housekeeper. Making up bunks and clearing up all the rubbish that a band or crew leaves behind. Plus to make decent money, you also had to get involved in flogging programmes or tee shirts, or shining a spotlight, which for someone like me that didn’t have a head for heights, was a tough way to earn an extra 50 quid a night. I had to close my eyes and climb that ladder to the lighting gantry and make sure I was fully secured up there. It was worse climbing back down.
The old hands got the big name tours while I as the newbie driver got lumbered with all the unknown to me American heavy metal bands or rock bands that would fly into Gatwick or Luton, and I would have to take them to small venues across the UK and into Europe. As they somehow had a following in Europe, these small bands would think they were rock gods even though the promotors had a budget that would barely cover the hire of the bus and maybe a truck for the equipment, and budget hotels if they didn’t sleep on the bus.
The only big name I got to do myself was Cliff Richard who wasn’t exactly rock and roll. Five nights at the Birmingham NEC, though I’ve never seen so much middle aged totty stream past the bus each night heading for the show. 
Oh, and I did manage to do some double drive legs on Queen and Supertramp.
I finally transferred over to LW corporate. Much easier work, same money as band work, no night drives and home in my bed each night. Mostly film location work or commercials. And every year the Le Mans 24 hours for the Jaguar team.
Anyway, you’re a cheeky sod. I am assuming you went to work for Trathens in Plymouth. Surely the Star rider mob were the ultimate country bumpkins in the band bus game. You could cut some of their Devon and Cornwall accents with a knife when our paths occasionally crossed, and they would break out the Cornish pasties and cider from a side locker while wearing their straw hats and knock off fake Rayban aviators. 