Thursday 27th August 2026
Back in November, Dean Friedman (you remember him – Lucky Stars, Arial, Lydia from the late 70s) announced that he was going to hold another SongFest, which is a bijou indoor music festival attended by a couple of dozen singer-songwriters. I went in 2022 and wanted to return, but Geraldine was less keen, so we didn’t book anything. Then, in January, I came up with a cunning wheeze to go on my own and combine it with three days of cycling.
The music event only starts at two o’clock, so I’ve got time to fit in a few short rides each morning to link up some routes I’ve already cycled in the region. The weather’s looking decidedly iffy, but I reckon I’ll be OK.
I’m not staying in the hotel where SongFest takes place – it was a bit pricey – so instead I found an Airbnb nearby. This was booked well in advance (that’s what I do, don’t I Jim?) but then last Friday my host emailed me to say that she’d had to cancel my booking because she was still recovering from an unplanned operation and didn’t feel able to have guests that weekend.
So I began searching again, but lady luck smiled on me and I swiftly found better accommodation even closer to the venue. I had to pay a bit more, but Airbnb threw in a few quid as compensation for the initial cancellation. So all was good. I had detailed instructions on where to go and how to let myself in, and the host even let me check in early.
Then, at three o’clock today, I received a message from my new host saying that she was in hospital following an emergency operation for a burst appendix which had happened yesterday! What are the chances of that? Two Airbnb hosts living a couple of miles apart, both having emergency operations at the same time? I was beginning to wonder whether Airbnb had started offering accommodation with complimentary surgery.
The good news (for me) is that I can still go, letting myself in using a key safe, so it’s all systems go.
So who am I seeing this weekend? Well, apart from Dean and probably Kiki Dee (did I mention that she’s going too?), I doubt you’ll have heard of many of the other artists performing. That’s not to say they’re no good, just that they haven’t had the breaks you need in the music industry. SongFest is deliberately about songwriters and performers rather than household names.
Another good thing about the festival is that the artists usually stay and watch the acts themselves, so you can find yourself sitting next to one of them in the audience. It’s rather different from Glastonbury, where I suspect you need a telescope to achieve the same thing.
Anyway, I wasn’t sure where to post this blog, so I’ve linked to it in both my cycling blogs and the occasional blogs. If you click the cycling link, just skip over the music bits, and if you click the other one, you can enjoy reading about how wet I got on the rides.
Friday 28th August 2026
It was a smooth journey to Rugby today. The Manchester traffic hadn’t built up and I passed through Birmingham after the peak. I parked by Draycote Water and set off on my pre-planned ride, only to hit a snag after just half a mile. The route around the south edge of the reservoir was closed off, so I had to take the northern route to start. No problem, but unexpected.
Closed roads seem to be a thing around here just now. I turned left by a sign advising that the road I’d just turned off was closed, but very soon afterwards there were barriers across my road too, with no warning signs. I was able to scramble around the barriers and vault a two-foot-wide (and three-foot-deep!) trench to continue. There were, however, massive road-closed signs on the other side of the barrier, which seemed a little late in the proceedings.
I asked a local whether I could get through yet another closed road and, having been assured that it was passable for a bike, I continued. The posted diversion would have taken me onto the A45, which neither I nor the many HGV drivers on there would have appreciated.
Before I completed the ride, I called into a café in Dunchurch for lunch and tried to remember when – and why – I was last here. My diary shows that it was in July 2000, when I attended a training course at the Management Training College formerly owned by GEC. I can’t remember the course, but my diary entry states that it was “a complete waste of time”. The college is now a hotel and is only 300 yards from my digs.
When Googling the college, I came across the story of Iain Duncan Smith’s rather imaginative educational CV. His Who’s Who biography had claimed that he had attended the University of Perugia and Dunchurch College of Management. The Perugia reference was misleading – he attended the Università per Stranieri di Perugia, which was not awarding degrees at the time – while his connection with Dunchurch consisted of several short GEC courses rather than anything resembling a conventional education. So perhaps “attended” was doing a little more work than usual in that biography.
Another interesting fact about Dunchurch is that it’s where Guy Fawkes and his co-conspirators gathered on November 5, 1605 to await news of the plan to blow up Parliament.
Today’s weather was lovely, despite the Met Office’s dire warnings of thunder and heavy rain. It was a bit windy, but this helped me on the way home. Once more, the forecast seemed to have been written by someone who hadn’t looked out of the window.
My accommodation for the weekend is wonderful. It was advertised with a roof patio and I didn’t know what to expect, but the space is marvellous. The room – more of a bedsit, really – is stacked with equipment: kettle, fridge, microwave, tiny oven, hotplate and loads of kitchen utensils, so I’m lacking nothing. It’s a pity that I’ll be spending so little time here.
Elaine, the host, is still in hospital and unfortunately we won’t meet, but her neighbour and long-term resident guest made me very welcome.
After a brew and a shower, I headed out to the Draycote Hotel for the music festival, which was just a couple of miles away.
The atmosphere at SongFest has a feel of a wedding or perhaps a school reunion. You might not know everyone, but there are many familiar faces present. The artists, when not performing, sit amongst the audience and the exchanges between them make it feel like you’re one of them. So although I went on my own, I soon got chatting to others since we all had the music in common.
For me the outstanding acts on the first day were Jessie Reid and Vance Gilbert who were totally unalike. Jessie played guitar in a most unorthodox way but her tunes were very memorable. Vance Gilbert is an American folk singer who has released 16 albums and has a terrific stage act.
Although Dean Friedman doesn’t drink beer, he has been persuaded to market a couple of beers bearing the names of his songs. I tried the Lucky Stars pale ale, and although I’m no connoisseur, it tasted fine.
Saturday 29th August 2026
Rain was forecast for later, so I set off earlyish to limit the soaking. It didn’t work; I was wet through by mid-morning. Since I’m in the region to attend a music festival (albeit an indoor one), please note that I still uphold the English tradition of getting drenched.
I created two routes from Dunchurch, one being considerably more urban than the other, so I chose the more rural route today because urban travel is generally preferable on a Sunday. We’ll see.
There was nothing very noteworthy to report on the ride except that I passed the Bruntingthorpe Proving Ground, on the site of the former RAF Bruntingthorpe. The airfield opened in 1942 and is now used as a vehicle proving ground, so it’s had quite a career change. I couldn’t see anything through the trees apart from a few old aircraft spotted through the security gates.
Another thing that I didn’t see was the array of radio masts at Catthorpe, at the junction of the M6 and M1. These were always a landmark for me when I travelled to London a lot in the early 80s, but when I cycled beneath the motorway interchange today I didn’t see them. I now know that the old radio station site and its masts were dismantled between 2004 and 2007. It’s clear that don’t travel that way much these days.
Since I was so wet, I skipped my coffee stop and headed straight back for a shower at my accommodation. After a shower and a cuppa, I wandered up the road to Square Coffee. It was empty, so I had the choice of the only two tables I saw in the place. One of them was outside and, since it had begun to rain again, the choice was clear. The pastrami toastie was delicious, as was the coffee, but both were served as if for a takeaway and I felt guilty sitting there using up half of the tables.
At the concert at 3pm, I took a similar seat as yesterday, chosen because it was on the second row but directly behind a low couch, so I was guaranteed a view. My fellow SongFesters (SongFestivos? SongFestites?) were really friendly and I felt very much at home.
Great performances once again and I was pleased to hear the band Barbara, who were a couple of blokes I’d not seen before. They’re playing with their full band in Sheffield later in the year, and perhaps they deserve another listen.
One of my favourite artists at the festival was Tracey Curtis, who started her musical career in a punk band. She mentioned that in her 20s she would never have believed that one day she would share a set with Kiki Dee who is so not a punk artist!
Tracey also mentioned that last year her friend accompanied her to the festival and happened to share a lunch table with Dean. A long-time fan, she was so thrilled that Dean passed her the salt across the table that she had some pin badges made up in commemoration.
A chap whom I’d not heard previously was Richard Digance, a comedy songwriter. Among his many activities, he has composed short pieces for television programmes, and he demonstrated how skilled he has become at judging very short musical durations by playing three 12-second songs, complete with lyrics.
Kiki Dee and Carmelo Luggeri were the headline act and they were outstanding. Kiki has had a long and distinguished musical career, including working as a backing singer for Dusty Springfield, appearing on Top of the Pops in 1973 and, of course, recording a number-one single with Elton John. Carmelo is a guitar virtuoso and musical arranger.
Kiki was very entertaining, telling many humorous anecdotes about the people she has met. The duo received a standing ovation after a mix of old songs, new songs and a couple of covers.
Today’s timings were a bit off, and Kiki Dee over-ran by 45 minutes (but no-one minded). Consequently, the next slot – a singalong to Beatles and Gilbert O’Sullivan songs – was going to be quite late. At ten o’clock I chatted to a few people for half an hour before deciding to forego the singing in favour of my bed.
As I was leaving, I passed the queue which had formed for Kiki to pose for selfies and sign records. I estimated that there were still ten minutes’ worth of people waiting to speak to Kiki. Given that she had already been on stage for considerably longer than planned, I suspect she was having a rather longer working day than she had anticipated, but she was still smiling and chatting to everyone.
Sunday 30th August 2026
It was a beautiful morning when I set off towards Warwick and all the towns nearby. Pleasant country lanes for the first 15 miles, but the next 25 miles were through towns, with well-marked cycle lanes. As Dean might say, I was deep in the bosom of suburbia.
I could hardly believe the volume of blackberries beside the roads – do people not collect them around here? I stopped at one point and had a second breakfast, gorging myself on the fruit, only to pass a sign a few feet later advising of a sewage farm which was directly behind the hedge. So that’s why the fruit were so plentiful.
I was very impressed with Royal Leamington Spa. I’ve never been before, which is something I regret. It’s like a quieter version of Cheltenham. Warwick was less attractive. I’ve been to the town before, but apart from the iconic view of the castle from the bridge, nothing much made me want to stay.
I passed through Kenilworth and up to Coventry, which, although big and busy, was easy to cycle through. I cycled past the JLR HQ at Whitley, but apart from a 2027-model baby Land Rover Defender still wearing its camouflage paint, there was nothing to see.
After freshening up, I walked up to Square Coffee once more for lunch. Today, however, I discovered that there was a “secret garden” – with a roof – accessed by walking round the back which boasted a further 20 seats! So that’s why I was given a takeaway cup and my toastie in a foil bag. I had spent yesterday feeling guilty about occupying half the café when, in fact, I had apparently been sitting in the equivalent of the cloakroom.
Over the few days I crossed the path of HS2 several times and I was amazed how much disruption it is causing.
I headed off to the final day of the music festival at 2.30, but I broke with tradition by not getting soaking wet first. Will it even count as a festival in this case?
SongFest is like no other music festival. This became clear as the second act arrived at 3.30. I’ve seen Fiona Bevan before, but today she was singing with her partner Adam Beattie and they’d brought their two-year-old daughter along since they’d had problems with childcare. Baby Juno was asleep in her pram at the start but awoke after ten minutes.
Luckily, the very next act was Kate Lucas, who occasionally helps out her friend by acting as a nanny, so she stepped in to assist! The funny thing was that when Kate later got to the stage, the first thing she sang was entitled Baby Song, which had entirely inappropriate lyrics considering her recent childminding duties. But then many of Kate’s songs are inappropriate.
The last time I attended a SongFest, a couple in the audience had brought their young granddaughter, Lucy, who loved music. Lucy has been back each year and had also attended the optional songwriting workshops with Dean. This year, at the age of just 14, she made her debut on the stage. She was very impressive. Nurturing new talent is what Dean Friedman does.
The evening – and indeed, the festival – ended with Dean delighting us with a sample of his best songs before everyone left after adding dates for the next SongFest to their diaries.
Monday 31st August 2026
Although it was a bank holiday, my brain didn’t know and I woke up at 6am as usual. Consequently, I’d breakfasted, packed and was out of my accommodation at 7.30 and ready for my final ride this weekend.
I drove the eight miles to Southam before going on a 45-mile trip towards Stratford, collecting Veloviewer tiles and linking up other routes (obviously!) The roads were quiet and the wind was light as I initially headed south, diverting several times to collect adjacent tiles before passing Gaydon. This is another famous vehicle proving ground and the home of the British Motor Museum.
On one of my diversions, I cycled up a path once more laden with blackberries, where I enjoyed my second breakfast but got quite scratched in the process. At least this time I knew there was no sewage farm immediately behind the hedge since it was quite obviously the M40. Just a different sort of pollution.
I turned back before I reached Stratford and had a lovely wind-assisted ride back to the car and the three-hour drive home.
Today’s ride added 45 new tiles to my count, bringing the weekend total to 145 and the all-up figure is now tantalisingly close to 20,000. And, frankly, at this point, stopping would be ridiculous.