36 Mad Hours WITH HERMAN


    Not long ago I had a few days off, and as I hadn't been to Manchester and Liverpool for a while, I popped up there.
    I'd arranged to meet Herman and for a gas, act as his road manager for a couple of days.
    I learned lots of things about Herman. One of them is that he can dash me off my London feet, and life is never dull.
    Here then is an hour-by-hour account of the people we met and the scrapes we got into during two hectic days and almost sleepless nights.
    Oh, cor, never again!

    9 p.m., SUNDAY EVENING. The Oasis Club, Manchester. Herman pulls on his jacket with the big H on the top pocket and goes on stage. The screams are deafening, then I realise we are in Herman's home town.
    9:15 p.m. I go out to the front of the stage to watch the act. I hold up three girls who are all standing on a chair made for one. Every time they let go of my shoulder to clap there is a general sort of falling about of bodies and much screaming from the girls and groaning from Lennon.
    Actually, they also fed me with sweets and cigarettes. Thanks a lot. I like our readers.
    10:30 p.m. The Hermits have finished and Herman is changing. "Coming out to eat, Pete?" he says. When the club is empty, we rush out to a car being driven by two ex-members of the Hermits. Al, the driver, shoots off towards Mr. Smith's, Manchester's smartest night-club.
    But when we get there Herman remembers that it is Sunday, and it is closing as we arrive. A quick drive around Manchester shows that nothing is open.
    11:30 p.m. We are on the fast East Lancashire road going to Liverpool, where there is bound to be some action. When we are on the journey, Herman talks to the other two about holidays they had together.
    "Do you remember when the four of us went off for a week's camping with only six quid between us ... how about the time we had that crash and the car rolled over in front of that learner driver? You cut your nose and there was blood everywhere and all you could do was laugh."
    12 midnight. We arrive in Liverpool, with Herman feeling wide awake and me starting to wilt. We come to the conclusion that we don't know where we are, and so we stop to ask a cop the way. He tells us, and adds, "Good luck with the new record."
    12:15 a.m. Finds us asking another policeman the way.
    12:30 a.m. We arrive at the Blue Angel night club in Seal Street and squeeze our way in.
    There we find Brian Epstein, Tommy Roe, The Fourmost and a host of others. There's a knock-out group on the stage called the Hillsiders. Everyone in the "Pool" thinks they're very good.
    1:30 a.m. and Herman is gambling whilst I

  watch him. He loses three quid and gives up.
    3:15 a.m. We get out into the street to find that our car has been pinched and go into the police station next door to the Blue Angel to report it. The blue beat boys are more interested in getting Herman's autograph, but after much clowning around on his part we find ourselves out in the road with nowhere to go.
    But we are much comforted by the fact that the whole of the Lancashire Police is looking for our car. Good ole Barlow!
    3:30 a.m. George, driver of the 'Takers, comes to our rescue, and Herman announces that we will go to the house that his parents have just got a Huyton, outside Liverpool.
    3:45 a.m. We are bowling along the road to Huyton in an old and very battered van. I am in the back, cussing at each bump as I'm sitting on an old petrol can.
    4:15 a.m. We get to Huyton and call at a police station there to ask where ______ Road is.
    4:30 a.m We are in ______ Road and Herman says drive to No. 90. We find out that there are only 33 houses in the road. No. 19 is empty and No. 9 looks very much asleep. So we drive back to the police station for help.
    5:30 a.m. We are still there and are cursing Herman for not knowing where he lives.
    6:30 a.m. We catch the first train to Manchester and call in at the Grosvenor Hotel for a wash-and-brush-up in my room. Then we go into breakfast. This causes no little stir, but we eat a great breakfast. (Thanks for the extra eggs and things, girls).
    9:30 a.m. We get to Herman's office. I go out with Little Frankie, Roy Broome, our photographer, and we get back about twelve.
    12 noon. The office is full of Hermits and off we go in a convoy of cars to do the rounds of places that Herman went to school or lived in.
    1 p.m. Herman dashes into a cafe and we all eat cheese and raw onion sandwiches.
    1:30 p.m. We find we've lost the car key ("fan souvenir. Nothing goes right with cars when I'm around," says Herman).
    2 p.m. We have got a new key and we finish the rest of the pix.
    3 p.m. Herman suddenly thinks that his passport was in the car when it was stolen from the Blue Angel. We phone the police.
    6 p.m. Herman and I go off to eat.
    7 p.m. We get this car to Preston for a charity performance. Very worthy and well worked out.
    3 a.m. We arrive back in Manchester. It's very quiet and Herman is asleep in the front seat.
    3:15 a.m. We drop Herman off at Rick John's house - the Caroline DJ - and he stumbles in to get some sleep.
    4:15 a.m. I crawl up the stairs of the Grosvenor Hotel and fall asleep with my clothes on.
    8 a.m. A bare four hours later I am wakened as arranged. I tell the maid to go away, and then remember I have to get to the Toggery Shop in Stockport by 9:30 for a pic with Dave Berry.
    "Did you have a good time?" they asked me when I got back. "Cushy life you lead," they said.
    Too tired to argue, that was me.