I went to the pub with Max Quordlepleen from Hitchhiker's Guide to the Galaxy

I have reached the stage of the touring year where each morning I wake up uncertain of where I am and what day it is.  

Waking in Woodbridge on Tuesday, I was in Manchester on a Friday. In Hull on Thursday, I was at home on a Sunday. I am still arriving in the right place at the right time, but maybe that will change in December.  

I had a lovely night in Shoreham-by-Sea at Chapter 34 bookshop, having spent the afternoon in the Vintage Emporium with my friend Katherine searching through their extensive range of old postcards and photographs. We love finding old scrawls on the other side of images of Corfe Castle or a family under a parasol at Camber Sands. Something like, “Please don’t tell Hans anything I told you, Love Lily” or “I tried a new perm that I thought would suit you” will ensure purchase.

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After the bookshop, we went to Shoreham’s famous pub The Welly where I bumped into Attila the Stockbroker. It was a spoken word night and I was with Orbital’s Phil Hartnoll, so we took to the stage to perform my poem, Lazarus Beats, about an Orbital gig. Paul played the music he composed for from his phone. We were a Sleaford Mods tribute act in waiting.

I love those impromptu moments when a quiet drink after a gig suddenly becomes another gig, it lets out a little of the raw energy that is left jiggling after the previous showing off. There is always a little fizz left over.  

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The next day I went to Godalming where a man called Saul drove me into the darkness of a mysterious woods and a little cottage at the end of the muddy track.  

Did a witch lie within? 

The last time we did this, as the trees darkened the surroundings and the tyres gripped deeply into the mud, Saul told me, “It is at this point you realise that we are about to murder you.” 

Instead, we had mince pies and cake.  

This is where Saul’s dad, Colin Jeavons resides.  

Colin is a wonderful actor who will be fondly recalled by many for his appearance as Lestrade in Jeremy Brett’s Sherlock Holmes or Max Quordlepleen in Hitchhiker’s Guide to the Galaxy. His credits are so many that Wikipedia decides to give up at 1976, meaning they miss out Only Fools and Horses, The Sweeney, The French Lieutenant’s Woman, Minder, Stalin and much more.  When I put up a picture of the two of us in the pub, people’s fond memories flooded in. 

“What a delight as an actor he is” 

“His Lestrade is perfection” 

“He’s fantastic. I adore him”  

And many more.  

And yet Colin feels  disappointed with almost every performance he gave and is always astounded if anyone knows him. Now he is 96, I am working hard to persuade him how good an actor he is and how much love remains in the world for him from people he has never met.  

In the pub, we talk of his work with Dennis Potter. 

You have to be pretty good to be respected by one of television’s greatest playwrights.  

In his house, hidden away, is a poster for the tour of central America he did with Ralph Richardson in The Merchant of Venice and A Midsummer Night’s Dream. He is remarkable man and, with his wife Rosie who died in 2018, he has obviously been a wonderful parent. 

To sit with Colin is to sit with stories and humanity.  

Like so many who have lived a life, even his son is surprised by some of what he hears and wonders how he was never told this before. 

Colin was in Bertolt Brecht’s Mother Courage. One day, Brecht himself arrived and was furious at what they were doing with his work and he marched around bellowing disapproval.  

We must always remember to celebrate people when they are there to hear us. I hope you find time to appreciate someone today.  

Robin Ince is a comedian, poet and broadcaster.

Ice Cream for a Broken Tooth: Poems about life, death, and the odd bits in between by Robin Ince is out now (Flapjack Press, £12).

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