TURN BACK THE TIME, BABE. BOOK 2. KINGS WILL BE CROWNED (ENGLISH VERSION)

YOU GET NOTHING BUT THE BEST

The tour was getting started on Sunday 7th December in Wolverhampton. I hadn't heard again about Freddie. I imagined what followed was a scorching making up and David would become naturally part of Queen entourage till the remains of the tour.

On Tuesday and Wednesday 9th and 10th they would be playing in Birmingham. This time around they wouldn't be playing at Barbs like a year ago but at Odeon theatre and I thought it would be fine visiting again my town in the seventies. I got tickets for one pound to each show, as far apart as possible from the stage.

My plan was watching them again on my own terms, visiting my town in complete secrecy and coming back to London. So far I didn't find myself strong enough to face a tour, in spite of the insistent invitations of Freddie. I wasn't ready to fight for the attentions with his beloved David Minns.

I took the train and made it in my hometown. I hired a room at Tennant Street and roamed the streets in the pouring rain.

I hadn't seen a ray of sun since ages, it seemed the rain had come to stay. I leant out the numerous 19th century iron bridges which crossed the channels, watching the water of Rea river almost bursting its banks.

It was bitter cold and all along the night it felt like a snow falling was about to happen. It was likely, in Birmingham snowed very easily. The rain was almost solid. I adjusted my water boots and walked delighted along my comfort area despite the bad weather.

A year ago I had the chance to see my 70s Birmingham. In some areas it was a very different town and there were whole areas completely unknown to me. Sometimes it was like visiting a brand new place. Till I entered some local to eat and drink and the brummie accent was all over me and I corroborated I was at home.

Earlier on I visited it with Mary and was very special but it wasn't enough. This time round I was going to get the most out of this town in which under the logical order of the universe I still had to wait 20 years to get born.

But there I stood, in 1975 and entering fine arts museum Barber, thrilled. It was my second home, I had spent a lot of hours there admiring its complete arts exhibition. I stared, my eyes brimming over with love, at Varengille church by Monet, my favourite. The church standing on cliffs in full Normand coast with the faint light of the dusk over it, it was amazing. Its lines were so passionate and free that I couldn't take off my eyes of the infinite colours he created.

In 2018 that painting was moved to National Gallery in London to the exhibition called "Monet and the architecture". It was there for 3 and a half months and I missed it so much I had the need to travel to London just to watch it once more. I could stand hours looking at it.

The Barber gallery had a superb art collection: Murillo, Van Gogh, Degas, Toulouse-Lautrec. A good part of the genious painters crowded its galleries. I stood there among the pictures till the nice security guard told me he was closing it. I was the only one there.

- It's five, miss. We gotta close.

- Oh, excuse me. The time flies here.

- Tomorrow will be here. We open at ten.

- Thank you, maybe I'm coming again.

The show started at half past seven. I had enough time to take another walk and having something light to dinner before attending Odeon theatre.

The museum had served me to calm me down. Visiting my town in 1975 was like visiting any other town in planet. Only I knew I would be born here 20 years later, now it was just a place with no roots for me. I guess my parents would be walking around. My mother was 10 years old and my father 12. My natural mother still had to get born.