Being Belgian she seemed impossibly exotic. She was strong, independent, very into her music, intelligent, and pretty into the bargain. But none of that could make up for the fact that she was a royal pain in the arse on that tour. She didn’t like us being at all laddish and was always pulling us up on our manners. God help you if you farted in the minibus or something. She disapproved of us chatting up girls and generally being dirty bastards, and didn’t like our bad language. She was a right mother hen, in other words, clucking round us all the time.
