The Casbah? Inadvisable I'd say.

Was clearly not enamoured by the delights of Chelsea. It's not that bad.

My sister-in-law went on holiday to Cambodia recently. She said it was lovely. What do The Dead Kennedies know, huh...?

a house in New Orleans they call the Rising Sun. At least not according to Google Street View.

Jarvis Cocker recently opened his 6Music show with this, which I loved.

Changes To The Hotel California In Response To Mr Henley's Recent Complaint

BY JOHN MOE

- - - -

Update room décor, including removal of ceiling mirrors

Restock spirit supplies, encourage Captain to offer guests other options

Acquire steelier knives and/or less resolute beast

Emphasize "heaven" image over less desirable "hell" alternative

Install electric-light system in hallway (long overdue), reassign employee who has been showing guests to room by candlelight

Upgrade music selection to accommodate both guests who dance to remember and those who do so to forget

Improve courtyard air conditioning to reduce occurrences of sweet summer sweat

Encourage nightman to be less cryptic when talking to guests

Clearly mark passage back to places guests have been before

Emphasize core strengths: lovely place, plenty of room, consistent location

Reduce power on colitis-oil highway pumps; smell may be overly aggressive

Provide "house alibis" to guests who neglect to bring their own

Streamline checkout procedures to accommodate guests' desire to actually leave

Billie Joe Shaver contradicts Mr Christie on his song Leavin' Amarillo

I'm down at the station just trying to buy some gasoline
I'm leavin' Amarillo and I ain't coming back again
You can't buy beer here at the grocery store
But I don't have to worry about that no more
'Cause I'm leavin' Amarillo and I ain't coming back again

"You can find your way home on the 303" always comes to mind when I get confused by the Podimore roundabout and end up in the wrong direction.

...and despite the Long Blondes averral to the contrary, neither the A14 nor the A1 is a motorway.

...when I suggested to a cab driver in Cairo that he pick me up at "half past monsoon", he didn't have a fucking clue what I was on about. Thanks for that, Suggs.

Contrary to the bleak loveliness conjured up by the song Wichita Lineman, the city is actually a bit of a letdown. I asked at the Visitor Information Centre if there was anything I should see, and was greeted by a blank expression and the eventual suggestion "the mall?".

easily one of the top ten views in the world.

sorry didn't have shot from the bridge.

to do in Liverpool except sign on or were The Bangles lying to us?

and thankfully there was no sign of an 'A' Bomb anywhere.

Drinks are free.

They bloody aren't, as security were only too pleased to inform me.

And most of the gals overtook on the inside.

Rain grey town known for its sound
In places small faces unbound

Its 340 miles from San Jose to LA - more like part of San Franciso (misleading tourist advice indeed) - nit picking I know - but two very different cities. San Jose is a lot more pleasant than most of CA IMHO

Got some very strange looks from the natives.

Thanks for nothing, Mr McKenzie.

...Frances Farmer never did get her revenge on Seattle. I asked several people at Tourist Information and just received puzzled looks.

Of course it is.

That's why all the stars that never were are parking cars and pumping gas.

then bypassed Rock Hill
Still arrived late.

...on the advice of Simon and Garfunkel, thinking I'd be certain to pull, given the ratio of male to female.

Disappointing.

Was there chuff!

all the tourists glumly flocking to Penny Lane were as let down as I was the first time I "rocked down to electric Avenue" in Brixton. Admitedly the a market wasn't on but you know not a funky as I'd imagined. Oh and Amen Corner is a bend in the road in Tooting!

But I regularly visit Muskogee, and I have on more than one occasion seen young people with long, shaggy hair, wearing sandals and smoking marijuana.
Disgusted, from Oklahoma.

but does "portishead" really feel faintly filmic and scary with a mad woman wailing away while a grumpy bloke uses a theremin?

Not if you're in Limerick.

full of coins.

Never felt the urge to visit L.A. to go.

Sweet green icing flowing down?

The blame must lay with that idiot who left a cake out in the rain.

Best avoided.

Better class of person on the second last train.

At the turn of the millennium I was renting a flat just off Northcote Road in Clapham. The area 'between the commons' is known as Nappy Valley on account of the massed ranks of well-to-do yummy mummies pushing buggy from Marks & Sparks to the Boiled Egg and Solidiers and back. It's all pearls and princelings and only a few minutes walk from South London's largest rail hub - handy for the commute to the city.

If Glenn Tilbrook had just one thought of something missing whilst he was in the kitchen, well, he really should have bought - his place would be worth a fortune by now.

and got arrested for loitering.

experience the first verse of The Pogues's Broad Majestic Shannon, but not entirely sure that Shane MacGowan ever consulted a road map.
Otherwise the great Neapolitan song - Funiculi Funicula - wouldn't offer the best guidance about how to get up to Vesuvius now.

It's really not all that bad!

a row going on down near Slough, they all appeared extremely happy and looking forward to the big day.

and they were out of herbs! All we got was some 3 day old brandy snaps and a goldfish.

Durham is very nice, so we can give some credit to Roger Whittaker.

Went there about 20 years ago.

Unfortunately Vernon wasn't there to meet me when the plane landed.

And there were no keys for an M.G. either.

Woah, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh, oh.

I never got picked...

got sun-burnt and couldn't understand a word the locals were talking about.

Nick Lowe might want to go back there but I don't, thank you very much.

if memory serves, that would be at about 100 mph, horizontally with rain that would lash your miniskirted legs to ribbons.

Though geacher still lives there; he may have different memories.

There is indeed a mouse living in a windmill in old Amsterdam, but I was disapointed to establish that he doesn't sing every morning about how happy he is. What a waste of a weekend that was.

The parts I saw were not particularly dream like.

John Fogarty was a bit hasty to presume people on the river would bail out every skint freeloader that heads their way.

all I saw was cheap displays.

...that "Young Parisians are so French"

Stood there many times and when the mist comes rolling in it's cold and damp and wet and miserable. My desire my arse.

in France

...not much happened, to be fair.

and visited Sunny Goodge St. Needless to say it was pissing down .

Let's just say that you would be unwise to base your holiday plans on that Proclaimers weather report.

and the Isle Of Greece, and I did not experience one thing in either which any woman is not supposed to see.

The song is, of course, an instrumental. The video, however, does support my argument.

Try any of that skipping about and handkerchief shit round here and I suspect that a group of close-cropped, heavily-built and tattooed gentlemen might wish to have a Quiet Word. If you catch them on a good day, they might let you pick up your teeth before you run away.

and met fuck all in the line of gin-soaked bar-room queens, who tried to take me upstairs for 'a ride', whatever that might be...

*replaces Rolled Gold with Lonely Planet Guide*

Silly Counting Crows, the relevant Baltimore is thousands of miles west ... and I just checked the weather; "partly cloudy"

On the day I went to Bangor. But it cost well over a pound, I can tell you.

Kirkstall, in the shadow of the sun.

I have also stood all night at a red light anywhere in town, hailing Marys left and right and not one of the bastards slowed down.

It seems the quality of roads in Blackburn Lancashire has improved in terms of pothole repair, but there are still issues around cleanliness, albeit of low priority.

http://www.lancashire.gov.uk/office_of_the_chief_executive/lancashirepro...

Scott McKenzie might have you believe, there is no particular advantage to be gained by wearing flowers in your hair when in San Francisco.

this place in France where the ladies wear no pants.....

on Main Street (or even Rue De Main).

and it was closed for repairs.

is not a place on earth.

on their 1982 masterpiece, The Number of the Beast, that Charlotte the Harlot lived at 22 Accacia Avenue. I've always been too shy to knock.

Costa Fine Town on Google maps, with little success.

I was disappointed to discover that, contrary to what Nigel Blackwell told me, I had to travel 10 miles to Ely to find a Chandler, when I'd been promised two fine ones right there in Chatteris. The cake shop was, however, first class.