Tim Dowling: life on the road was so much simpler than being at home

On tour with the band there were no snapping tortoises, no dog kerfuffles and certainly no peeping scaffolders

I

t is early morning, the low sun is glinting off wet tarmac. I’m in a coffee shop next to a petrol station, across the car park from the Travelodge where I spent the night, somewhere just north of Brighton. The middle leg of the band’s autumn tour is complete, and I’m on my way home. But first I want coffee.

“Can I take a name?” says the woman behind the counter.

“Um, yeah,” I say. “It’s Tim.”