The Final Night.

Well there it is, we’re done and dusted. Another ending, another show.

The Wellington crowd was great in a beautiful theatre at the Michael Fowler Centre. They came in a good Bank Holiday mood and left happy. We were as relaxed as we have ever been, going into several digressions and loopholes and even returning on track. In particular John was totally surprised and delighted when I played him the video I made of me climbing Mt. Cleese which I shot on the way down the day before. It was definitely worth the detour to see his face, and he didn’t see it coming when I read several audience questions out about Palmerston North. I was then able to explain to him that Fred Dagg, whose name appears on the plaque, was a local boy and is a huge comedic name in the Antipodes, so it is a comedian’s response to a comedian’s remark. His real name is John Clark, and he lives in Australia and is still on TV there. And for a Recycling Centre Mt. Cleese and its environs is well worth the visit because it is in a beautiful park. So take your recycling, your garbage, and your old cars and then have a picnic. It should definitely be on the map, and a sign or two would be helpful. Come on Palmerston North: the irony centre of New Zealand. I am attempting to put the photo on Twitter and I shall try and post the clip somewhere, somehow, but forgive the audio…the wind was whipping up and it was shot by Sev my driver on my Samsung. Talking of which The Selfie song goes great guns and makes a nice change in my repertoire as it isn’t completely filthy. Well it is filthy but it isn’t about sex, or death which makes a nice change for me.

I told the audience the amazing fact that on Saturday when England beat Germany at soccer in Berlin 3-2, the German audience sang Always Look on The Bright Side of Life. Our audience went nuts at that and appreciated it with a big round of applause. So that’s definitely one up to Germany, and of course at the end our audience all sang along with me. It’s bucket list time that one.

Bret McKenzie from Flight of the Conchords, his wife Hannah and his father Peter came back after the show and we drank the champagne sent by the very generous Ugly Butler, although he must be persuaded that if he is to continue with such extravagance the first night is better as we have to abandon so much brilliant liquor because we are all leaving on planes this morning… So thanks Kev, but not at the end please. It was lovely to see Bret. I once went to their concert at The Orpheum in LA and we met briefly at some trendy eatery in Silverlake, but it was nice to sit and have a chat. I can’t reveal what he told me of his plans, so I shall have to remain a tease, but it’s good news.

Our little show has grown and changed and I really like Act One. It’s an unusual hybrid of a conversation, a sketch show, and an autobiography.

Act Two becomes cabaret and in a couple of quick meetings, in breaks, over breakfasts and between acts John and I have resolved to change it for our tour of India. No I’m not serious. The cricket will be over by then….but yes we are going to change it.

The audience laughs in Act Two but the thru-line is absent and that’s the unusual part of the show and we are resolved to improve it, should we survive to do another tour. We exchange a few ideas and I am struck by how easily and effortlessly we still collaborate. Python has the reputation of disagreeing but it is amazing how swiftly we came to editorial conclusions and that ability still remains. We are good critics of our own work. At least collectively.

Anyway I shall not tease you further…Oh please come to Wolverhampton it is gorgeous in the dark…. Cleveland can be lovely in the winter….how about Manitoba….

And talking of the dark it is still early and I have to begin the packing thing as I fly off to Tahiti this morning to get a bit of rest. The speedos are pressed and the amusing T shirts, Nazis for Trump, Let’s build a wall round America, are all waiting to be folded. I can’t wait to see the missus, and I shaved specially as she really doesn’t like the beard. So thank you all for bearing with me as I bash out these random thoughts first thing in the morning. Michael can rest happy that his diary is now the only one, and this Needy Bastard can move on to writing other things.

It was a terrific experience touring the Antipodes, with many wonderful moments and I’d like to thank Adrian Bohm for his kindness and constant support. He didn’t miss a show. Also the indefatigable Simon Garner, our Tour Manager extraordinaire, who made our lives easy and comfortable and anticipated every need, and our huge crew of Simon and Surfer. Hard at this stage to think we’ll return, but ya never know. And of course I have to thank John, without whom none of this fun for the last 53 years would have been possible. He has been a dear man to travel with, a considerate pal at all times and a fabulous performer to play with. Just don’t tell the Daily Mail.

Oh and I realised sitting in my bath that it’s my birthday, so Happy Birthday to me, and oddly it will continue for 48 hours as I cross the International Date Line. And my International Date is already en route to the airport in Sydney….

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