It's a sparkling, frosty night in the city. Bristol always benefits from a cold, crisp day - and there is something about the wintry atmosphere of anticipation outside The Marble Factory which makes for a buzz among the gathering crowd. We stamp and blow into our hands while a horde of hi-vis clad security, more used to unseasonally dressed, boggle-eyed ravers, look on disinterestedly. Here, tucked somewhere into the industrial zone behind Temple Meads station, is possibly one of the odder places I'll have seen Kenny Anderson perform. From civic halls in rural Lancashire, via rooms above Fife rugby clubs, I feel like I've walked a path with him this past decade. And that's why most of us are here tonight - because there is something about Kenny - or at least his musical-persona-cum-rotating-band King Creosote which makes us feel like we're part of something a little more significant. Something a bit special.

As we're waiting for the doors to open, I overhear a conversation nearby: "I've only heard one song on the radio, and it sounded good...." - and I realise I've written about just this sort of incident before. The unfounded feeling of mild superiority, the slight curl of disdain for the uninitiated. Don't pretend. We've all had it. It's a human enough trait. But any sense of this soon gives way to something very different: I'm excited for her. She's going to hear music she'll want to scurry away to discover. It'll be 'just hers' - a secret that she'll try to share with mildly amused friends. She'll want to find all she can of Kenny's improbably immense back catalogue. And I'm jealous. Because I'll not get to do that again...

But I'm not here to project whimsy onto snippets of probably misheard chatter, and when we're finally inside the huge space which is not really any warmer than outside, it strikes me that its almost two years since I saw King Creosote the band, as opposed to the more familiar solo or small ensemble show which has been ranging the length of the country this past year or so. Most recently this has been on the back of "From Scotland With Love", the beautiful and cheekily irreverent soundtrack to an hour of wonderfully evocative archive footage which aired just before the Commonwealth Games last summer. First up is Sorren Maclean who is part of the band tonight, and has been part of a fair number of Scottish bands over the past few years. Here though he is playing his own songs. Delicate and quiet, embellished with a little of Pete Harvey's cello and some fine fiddle playing - and somewhat typically drowned out by audience chatter. There's a cover of Bob Dylan's "If Not For You" thrown in there too, which is slowed to an emotive crawl, flecked with strings and delivered in his clear-as-a-bell Mull voice. I'm not sure the audience gave Sorren nearly the chance he deserved - but for those of us who listened, it was a rare treat in a support act which fitted the bill perfectly.

It's worth noting that The Marble Factory is in fact part of a larger concern - the Motion nightclub. Next door in what appeared to be a modestly sized aircraft hangar, preparations were already underway for the influx of gurning ravers, and a peek through the security door separating this smaller space from the gaping cavern beyond made me shudder with remembrance of my youth. That was never for me. This also meant that tonight's show was an early one, designed to finish at 10pm sharp to let things get underway at the club. I secretly thanked the youngsters who would be coming to dance for sparing this particular old man too late an evening, as the infuriatingly ever-young Kenny and his band took to the stage. There were familiar faces aside from Sorren and Pete: Amy MacDougall who has been part of the band for a while (sometimes known as Bam Bam) and Captain Geeko the Dead Aviator. Accompanied by an organist, a stand-up bass player and violin, this was the biggest group I'd seen KC front since his last stint with The Earlies in 2011. The tone was set early one with a run of songs from "From Scotland With Love" which started with a soaring take on "Something To Believe In" and culminated in a triumphant and tear-inducing "Paupers' Dough". Scanning back over the audience, there were a good few singing along with the uplifting refrain of "you've got to rise from the gutter which you're inside". There were also many, many happy and bewildered faces who clearly hadn't quite expected this. I've never seen an audience respond with anything less than warmth and enthusiasm to Kenny, and this was no exception. On the stage too, something remarkable was happening, and with the band effortlessly reading each other's cues and Kenny clearly thoroughly enjoying himself, things were sounding pretty good. The set was also peppered with new material - either yet to be recorded or from the currently vinyl only "Three On This Island" record which remains frustratingly elusive to me.

Cover versions have always been a feature of KC shows, and following an anecdote about his learning of instruments being linked to celebrity deaths, the band launched into a weirdly heartfelt take on Demis Rousoss' hit "For Ever and Ever". By playing it straight, not giving in to the temptation to make it a novelty, and teasing out the ache at the heart of the song, a radio hit that blighted my childhood was transformed beyond all recognition. As a counterpoint, the stomping proto-polka of "Largs" whipped the audience up into cheers and handclaps - even some mild bouncing around! No-one seemed to remember how chilly it was, or the fact that they had a cold walk back to cars and buses very soon. At the end, Kenny decided to dispense with the theatrics around the encore and encouraged the band to crouch down on stage in plain sight as the audience hollered for more, feigning surprise when they stood up to play us just a couple more songs. This included "Homeboy" which hasn't graced a KC set with a full band for quite a while, and concluded with a roaring, triumphant version of "The Happy Song".

So was Kenny happy? It's always hard to know if the misunderstandings and disappointments documented in his songs are recent, or hark back to the past - and so many of his songs have lived previous lives, reinvented and reinterpreted as he works with different musicians. But tonight, on stage with a band he clearly loved playing with and to an appreciative and surprisingly large audience, he looked pretty content. I hope the people who'd come out on the strength of that one song on the radio are now avidly seeking out new King Creosote material, just like I was after I first discovered them.

Despite dire warnings of Arctic conditions overnight, I woke to a cold dry morning. Yesterday's irritations at work had left me with a fuzzy head and strangely, with eyelids which felt like sandpaper. Creaked and groaned my way around the flat getting ready for today's trip. I'd planned and booked this excursion some time ago, and having had a fairly full week had barely had time to think about things, so there was something of an unreal and unprepared quality to things as I set out for the station. The routine here doesn't really need repetition, out on the 0550, change platforms at Weston and collapse into a nice warm carriage with the intention of snoozing my way to Paddington. Woke up often enough to determine we were heading eastwards via Bradford-on-Avon and Hawkeridge Junction, which meant even less reasons to stay awake as we negotiated the always fairly dull Berks and Hants route through startling, red skies. into the city. Surfaced in time to see DB Schencker liveried 59206 on Acton Depot. So wrong-footed by this novelty in fact that I missed a fair amount of other locos which were also in attendance. Gathered my wits for the cross-London journey - as a TfL bulletin earlier in the week had informed me of the partial closure of the Circle Line. Tumbled straight onto a Kings Cross bound train at Paddington, but was unceremoniously turfed off and sent over the footbridge at Edgeware Road to complete the journey on a different set. At Kings Cross, surfaced and waited for ages for a bus to Liverpool Street, in the end piling on to a 214 which took me right to the doors.

Here I had a choice of trains to Stansted Airport.So with an excellent regular service and no need to be there particularly early, I relaxed and had breakfast before catching the 1025. First Class on the 317 was grubby, but refreshments were offered and the service was good. The red glow in the sky had dissolved into a freezing but brilliant morning, and the sunlight through the scratched windows was oddly warm. Amazed at how cheering the weather was, settled in for a decent and quick ride to Bishops Stortford before taking the relatively recent curve into the tunnel which led almost all of the way to the airport. Airports should, of course, be magical places. Stations and airports have always fascinated me - and the conjunction of both here should have been particularly so. But it wasn't. Stansted is a functional station - the interior of a multistory carpark with dull, grey lighting and little but the distant whine of escalators to break the silence. The airport isn't much better - a vast empty hangar populated by low-rise plastic shop units and a warren of little walkways between them which end in unexpected security checkpoints. Thankfully, my choice of a later arrival meant less time here, so I chanced a coffee in the rather less depressing Arrivals area before heading back to the station, and the rather far-flung bay platform 2 where the Birmingham bound unit was waiting for departure.

Off on time, taking the single line chord returning us to the northbound Cambridge line. With today's new track complete I could settle in to the long run into Birmingham. This is an odd journey, but one I'm strangely fond of. Initially through empty, flat fen country before reaching Ely with its golden stone cathedral shining in the sunlight. More emptyness as we headed for March where a small depot has sprung up in recent years and a couple of locos were stabled. Next point of interest was Peterborough - always worth a look, and today was no exception as the unexpected presence of a freshly DB Schenker liveried 66152 was a surprise. I rather like the all-over red with simple white lettering which has transferred from over the channel, but I wonder how monotonous it will get when well over 250 locos are plodding around in these colours? As ever, no camera out when it counted of course! Some parallel running beside the East Coast Main Line for a while before curving away at Helpston and crossing the tiny County of Rutland. Having done this part of the trip relatively recently, relaxed and enjoyed the views and opportunity to people-watch as the train filled and emptied along the way. The three-hour long journey seemed to pass incredibly quickly and I snapped out of my fugue as we were passing Water Orton. Another chance to sit and enjoy a quiet coffee at New Street. Timings were slack today as I'd let cheap advance tickets guide my choice of trains. Had a wander around the busy station, being careful to avoid the heavy Police presence which was likely due to it being match day somewhere locally.

Over to platform 1A for the 1642 back to Bristol. This train arrives early and waits time at this far-flung extremity of the station in relative quiet. Boarded, found a seat, and settled in for the relaxing ride back in a reflective mood. Pondered the planned trip for next weekend during the run home, and tried to think through a couple of the work issues which had seemed too complicated to figure yesterday. Had a while to wait at Bristol Temple Meads, so spent some time playing with my camera settings and trying to get decent shots in the dark - something I've rarely got the patience to play around with. Sometimes it seems these trips have a purpose aside from the dash for track, desperate mileage accumulation or heading somewhere specific. While on paper it was a big circle with a break at the airport, this escape mission was very important!

First day of my now annual 'trying to use up annual leave' week, which traditionally seems to occur in February. Having planned ahead a little, was able to get reasonably cheap tickets for a trip to Crewe. Despite a promising start to the day, the sun disappeared around Bristol. Quick change onto a four-car Voyager which was booked for a five-car set, and a crowded and fractious run, with lots of angsty students refusing to pay. Surprise sighting of a convoy of five Virgin 57/3 Thunderbirds heading down the Trent Valley at Stafford.

Arrived at a damp, misty Crewe station. I've passed through a few times, but I think I'd probably not set foot on the station since 1999. Not much had changed, and the glass canopies were in even worse repair. Relived memories of the mainline Deltic workings - happy days! Explored a bit, got binoculars out for a look at the scrapline, then settled in to see what happened.

As most freight avoids Crewe via 'The Muck Hole', it was down to interesting passenger workings along with whatever arrived in the station. Started promisingly with 67005 visiting whilst shunting into the Carriage Shed. A similar move from the shed also produced a pair of DRS Class 20s and some track machinery.



Soon after we were treated to the sight of EWS liveried 92031 leading 90028 and 92027 into platform 12, shunting around and leaving once again. 47810 and 47840 also visited, with 'North Star' remaining on the station for the rest of the afternoon. A steady stream of Pendolinos and Voyagers throughout the day - including 221102 - my final sighting for the class. Too dingy for much more photography, and increasingly misty as the afternoon wore on. Just as I was giving up and heading for platform 1, 57304 passed heading south.

Despite the weather, the crowded journey up and aching knees, it was fantastic to get back to an old haunt which really hadn't changed too much.

Not the best sleep last night, and an early-ish start.. My building holiday is over, and I'm currently trying to get new bonobo, gnome-vfs, gal and evolution's built! Load averages are spiralling, naturally. Busy but successful morning, and more time to brush up my maths and investigate possible educational opportunities