I had the pleasure of meeting Geoffrey Rowe on numerous occasions in the late 1990s.
I used to work as a night porter at the Forte Posthouse (now Holiday Inn) next to the M5 in Taunton. He, with his manager/driver would regular come in late at night on the way home to Lewdown from a gig somewhere up country. He'd usually have a cigar and two or three brandies. If I wasn't too busy he and his manager would invite me to join him for a drink (shandy for me) and chat. He was a very good conversationalist and would tell me funny stories (as himself rather than his alter ego) of his time farming and down the tin mines. Once he even tried some new material on me.
He was always a gentleman, an excellent tipper, and one occasion he wrote a letter of praise to my manager.
Didn't stop him taking the piss out of the size of my nose when I made the mistake of sitting at the front for a show at his club in Lewdown. "Christ, you must need wing mirrors on that b*st*rd!"
Top bloke. Rest in peace.
His typically Cornish (West Country) very earthy humour was combined with excellent timing and a large dose of self-mockery, both personal and of his fellow Cornish people. RIP.