...So following directly on from my last blog instalment, upon returning to the UK with a sad broken banjo and zero compensation from the fucking Easyjet customer relations idiots, I took my banjo in to one Mr Michael Cameron, apparently resident of the basement at the Hobgoblin music store in central London.

I give you, before:




And for the sake of completeness, I give you after:




The job that my new friend Mr Cameron has done is, as I'm sure you can see, nothing short of masterful. It's almost invisible, and it plays like a dream. He even restrung it for me. And all this for a mere £60, not even enough to make it worth my while claiming on my travel insurance.

So please, for all your banjo repair needs, go see Mr Cameron. He said it was worth it for the smile on my face.