Following our 19th Glastonwick Beer And Music Festival — sold out, enormous fun and thanks to all who helped and all who came —I started off a very eventful couple of weeks with a benefit gig for the Gatwick Detainees’ Support Group at the Hawth Theatre in Crawley. 

Anna and her dedicated group of volunteers provide much-needed practical and emotional support to asylum-seekers incarcerated in the detention centre at the airport there, helping vulnerable people during the most difficult time in their lives. Hats off to you all. 

Then it was up to South Yorkshire for the Orgreave mass picnic and festival in support of the Orgreave Truth And Justice Campaign, commemorating 30 years since the brutal attack on picketing miners by Thatcher’s private army of police. A great turnout and a lovely, peaceful day — so in contrast to what happened all those years before. 

Great sets from Barnsley’s Hurriers, Liverpool’s Western Promise, Middlesbrough’s Snide Remarks, Reigate’s Thee Faction and Wakefield’s Louise Distras, to name but a few. Stirring speeches from event organiser Barbara Jackson, a tireless and spirited campaigner, Betty Cook from Women Against Pit Closures, Mike Mansfield QC — who has done so much legal work for the miners — and Ken Capstick and Dave Douglass from the NUM.  I compered it all and it ran two hours late. Not my fault, honest, guv. 

Then, 30 years to the actual day of the Battle Of Orgreave, we held another commemorative event at the Buffalo Bar in north London organised by those fine people at Philosophy Football. Great political songwriters Robb Johnson, TV Smith and Chris T-T joined the line- up and Dave Douglass gave the best 10-minute speech I have ever heard, a brilliant summation of the miners’ struggle and its historical and political consequences.

Douglass, who reviews Tom Pickard’s poetry book on this page, is my new hero. I now have all three of his works and am currently reading Geordies — Wa Mental, his account of his early years in the north east. It was a time before the ravages of Thatcherism, when the mines and the shipyards were the lifeblood of the communities and it’s riveting, no pun intended. 

Then off to the Dinefwr Literature Festival in Mid Wales, where I supported Charlotte Church preaching successfully to the unconverted — I love doing gigs like that — and I met up once more with my favourite Welsh musical  genius, David “Datblygu” Edwards, who was there promoting his long-awaited new album. 

From there to Sarah and Adam’s wedding near Honiton, a celebration steeped in the popular culture of the folk of these islands going back centuries. They literally jumped the broomstick and tied the knot. It was very moving and then myself, my band Barnstormer and our mad mate John Otway provided a more modern take on things.

This weekend, I perform at my 25th Glastonbury. I can still remember the first one, back in 1983 when I supported the late, great Rik Mayall in the cabaret tent and then drank far too much scrumpy. 

In those days lots of people walked around Glastonbury naked and since it was very hot I decided to strip off too. I went to sleep on my back in the sun and was woken by my dear departed poet mate Seething Wells throwing a bucket of water over me yelling “John! John! Your bits are burning!” As indeed they were. Ow. Never again. 

To celebrate a quarter century of Glastonburys my wife Robina has baked a cake and I shall be opening the cabaret tent on Friday at noon and then sharing the cake with the audience. If you’re going to Glasto, hope to see you there.

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