So despite my assurances, that last blog was not exactly brief. Surely Paris will achieve brief status – there were no shows, and I am going to do this one in point form. A highlights package of sorts. I figure there's enough information on the internet already – you don't really need me telling you about "the beautiful this" and "the wonderful that". People tend to do that with their group emails. Yawn. Instead, here's a series of observations… from my first trip to Paris…
Renny's Paris TOP TEN (In no particular order):
1. Bugger me the coffee is expensive. And pretty shit.
2. Is it perhaps a mark of its religious significance that the first two things I thought when I walked into Notre Dame were "Oh my God" and "F….ing Jesus!". Man that is one impressive church. And I was about to head straight on by because it looked like a tourist trap. Here's a tip for other first-time visitors to Paris – get there.
3. On the scale of shitness, the Eiffel Tower at night is at the opposite end to the aforementioned coffee. Take the stairs, they are cool. (There is a photo up in the tour shots…).
4. If you are brave enough to order a plate of Pate with a Sprite because you don't feel like drinking, then you can expect to be laughed at by the guy that takes your order, the other people behind the bar, and half of the customers in the café.
5. Bicycles. I am loving this bicycle situation in Europe. I don't mean to harp on it, but the pushbike is king. What a great way to see the city. In Paris, there are bike "stations" where people park communal bikes that you can pick up from one station, and drop off somewhere else. For just 1Euro a day, I could use a bicycle to get everywhere I needed to go. Including a trip up the Champs Elysees a la Le Tour de France. Not sure if I was meant to be in the middle of the road taking photos, but I survived…
(In any case, I was hard to miss on my bicycle – word had spread that I was the guy who had ordered a Sprite with my Pate).
6. After two days procrastination, I did manage to get my guitar out of the room for a spot of busking. In the Latin quarter in fact, which was great. No licence required, paid for my dinner. Even sold a few CD's. Gold.
7. Who did I run into at the top of the Eiffel Tower? My Bass player, Pat Savina.
8. No I did not just make that up. I know – crazy.
9. On my final morning in Paris, I made myself get up and see the Mona Lisa. Just so I could say I did. I was also hoping to find out what on earth Craig Mclachlan was singing about...
Well the louvre was certainly an impressive joint, but I don't get the fascination with ol' Mona. Having said that, I am pretty sure she was winking at me. Someone must have told her about the Pate.
10. I did not purchase a Beret. In case you were wondering. Not that you would have been…
Next stop Germany!
News and updates from the musical adventures of Renny Field...
Sunday, September 21, 2008
Monday, September 15, 2008
The Weekly... Volume AMSTERDAM
I am assuming that I'll be able to keep this brief (ish…). Also, I am sitting in Berlin Schoenefeld airport waiting to catch the plane to London, having had about 3hrs sleep after my show last night – not the type of circumstance that lends itself to the most articulate or informative musical travelogue… Plus my battery is running out. So moving on…
Farewell Scotland, Hello Amsterdam.
Well I'll be damned. (Maybe even Amster-damned…. Oh dear did I just say that? I think I did…). This is actually a really great city. I like the way it's laid out along the various canals and waterways, I love the slightly crooked traditional Dutch apartment buildings, I can enjoy a good coffee (rather than whatever it was they were giving me in the UK and Ireland), and I can get EVERYWHERE on my bicycle. Ah yes the bicycle – ruler of all the earth – the bicycle. How nice to ride around for a few days knowing that with the "tink" of a small bell you can exert a power greater than the forces of Communist China. Awesome.
Now in fact I had been to Amsterdam before, but the last two trips had been with Rugby tours from London. Rugby tours that departed – with a great many cases of warm beer – at 7am in the morning. So as you can imagine, my previous impressions of Amsterdam were somewhat blurry… There wasn't a lot of time to "take it all in" – I was too busy being marched off to the next bar in between brief moments of running onto a football field and attempting to play for 20mins (it was a 10-a-side tournament) without touching the ball or tackling anyone. (As a Fly-half, I had mastered the no tackling part very early in my career…).
This time around I am happy to say I managed to last 3 days without going to a club in the red light district and without getting plastered, stoned or any other derivation of the phrase "making a mess of ones self". Yes I hear you, I hear you – not very Rock'n'roll of me to have a sober, clean 3 days in Amsterdam, but I never said I was cool, folks. I never said I was cool. And instead of feeling like crap each morning, I was able to check out a lot of the city on my trusty two-wheeler. Even got to and from my gigs each night using good old pedal power with my guitar tucked under one arm! Had a great time.
THURS 21/8 – CAFÉ 'SKEK
I was intrigued by my initial invitation to play at 'Skek. Any place that puts an apostrophe before the start of the name is surely a little strange… Is this the reverse of the plural for I wonder? What would that be? Half a café perhaps? Well obviously we are dealing with a different language here yes, but thanks for pointing it out. It turns out that 'Skek is in fact a whole café, and it even has a nice little upright piano on the stage – an unexpected but very welcome surprise.
Good little crowd in for a Thursday night, including a few people I knew from back in the homeland. In fact, there was a table FULL of Aussies who had all made the trek down from The Hague that night especially for the gig! (Thanks Kate). And wouldn't you know it, they weren't on a fanatics tour, they didn't have their faces painted with green and/or gold zinc cream, and not once did they ask me if I knew the words to "Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oi Oi Oi". Thank Christ for that. In the world of patriotic national war cries, I do believe Australia can lay claim to having the most boring, uninventive, and down right annoying of them all. New Zealand, for instance, have The Haka – an ancient tribal tradition passed down through generations in which participants are required to perform a carefully choreographed routine, demonstrating timing, agility and precision. We have a song with 2 words, each repeated 3 times, usually led by the dumbest person available, preferably the person with the biggest mullet who is more often than not selected because he is also the most intoxicated, and therefore the one with the least chance of saying anything else. Failing that, somebody pays John Williamson a lot of money, and 80,000 people try to sing our rugby team to sleep with an old folk song before the match kicks off. And we wonder why we keep losing the Bledisloe cup!
This was my first show in a non-English speaking country, so I was never entirely sure if half the people in the bar actually understood what I was singing about, or indeed what I was saying in between songs. And as I may have mentioned, or as you may have picked up, I don't mind a bit of a ramble in between songs. (Much like when I am putting together tour blogs in fact). That's how I keep myself amused anyway, for better or worse. Fortunately as I looked around the room I did notice a few heads nodding here and there, so I am assuming that for those that didn't have any idea what I was talking about, there was at least someone nearby to translate what I was saying. Be that a literal translation, or one which made me look like a complete muppet. Come to think of it, there were a few more laughs than normal…. Hmmm….
The night over, there was time to catch up with a few old friends and meet a few new ones at the open mic night, which runs each Thursday after the "feature artist". If you could call me that. Really I was just the bloke who kicked it off and played for the longest time…
FRI 22/8 – CAFÉ BLIVERTJE
Ok first of all, I have no idea how to pronounce the name of this café. In fact, I really can't pronounce anything in Dutch at all. It's like the alphabet has been thrown into one of those big lotto barrels and someone has drawn and re-drawn hundreds of thousands of times over to create the national dictionary. It seems quite common for the average Dutch person to sound like they are choking on flem as they order a beer, or a coffee, or anything really. So I give up on "Blivertje". Say nothing of the fact that, like 'Skek the night before, the "café" advertises itself as 't Blivertje. Again with the random pre-word apostrophe mark. I don't understand, but I was happy to run with it.
The astute observers amongst you will notice that I put the word "cafe" in inverted commas. This is because it is not a café in the normal sense of the word. The Blivertje – say it again, Blivertje – is in fact a squatters house! Yes, you heard me correctly – a squatters house. Someone had mentioned it to me the night before, but to be honest I hadn't really taken much notice, and when I arrived I was, to be fair, a little surprised. I think the same could be said for my friend from Australia, who last saw me play at the Hopetoun or the Cat and Fiddle or some other Sydney venue of that nature…. A slight contrast here…
Apparently squatters are fairly common in Amsterdam, and this is not the only place of this nature that exists. The Blivertje more or less serves as a headquarters of sorts where the various squatters in the neighbourhood gather together to eat dinner and catch up over a beer or two, as well as check out a bit of live music. The venue itself changes location roughly once a year – whenever the owners reclaim possession of the property. But after speaking to Hank, its seems that they are usually able to find a new spot fairly quickly.
I felt uncomfortable for all of 5 seconds, but I quickly began to feel like part of the family, and part of the furniture. It turns out that Hank, the man in charge, is a big supporter of independent music, and a number of the local singer-songwriters in Amsterdam often come through here to play. He's also an artist of sorts - so there was a great little cartoon of me that he had prepared for a flyer. I will have to post it in my tour photos when I can work out how to scan it in - very cool. Apparently they also have bands here – the last one was a 10-piece! I don't know where they would have put them all to be honest in between the old couches, computers and whatever else has been accumulated over the years, but Hank tells me it was an awesome show. And I believe him. At any rate, a bloke who's willing to give a random Aussie his own show on a Friday night at a week's notice is alright by me! I should add here that whilst the Blivertje didn't pay me any money, they did provide the best vegetarian curry I have EVER had, and beers were also on the house. Not that I would have minded paying – turns out they were selling them for the princely sum of 1 Euro.
The show itself was quiet, but really enjoyable. Potentially a slightly bigger language problem than Café 'Skek, but people clapped from time to time so I am assuming that was a good sign…. Also performing that night was a guy by the name of Frank, originally from France, who had recently moved to Amsterdam to be with his girlfriend and was just getting started on the local scene. Frank was an exceptional guitarist, and after speaking to him later that night it turns out he had toured Europe as a bass player several times over with a well known French artist – Yanne Matis (www.myspace.com/yannematis). These are two of the things I like most about music – you never know where it might take you, and you never know who you might meet. Apparently Frank has set up a "Rhythm section for hire" with a local drummer, and when I return to Europe next year with my new album finished, I may even be able to arrange a couple of full band shows in Amsterdam! Now that would be cool. (This is assuming of course I still can't afford to take my own rhythm section from Australia, who I wouldn't replace for the world. One day fellas, one day…).
Left to head home with a pretty good feeling about the Blivertje, particularly Hank who had booked me the show. So often it seems to be the case that the people with the least in this world are also happiest. Sydneysiders take note (myself included). I will definitely be stopping by again the next time I am in town.
So after one more day in Amsterdam, and a hell of a lot more cycling, it was time for me to bid farewell. Onwards to Paris, the city of love, or at least the city of "love"ly things…. if you're travelling solo like me… Oh Molly Mae, where art thou?
Time for a new blog I think.
(Turns out that wasn't so brief after all... What a surprise!)
Farewell Scotland, Hello Amsterdam.
Well I'll be damned. (Maybe even Amster-damned…. Oh dear did I just say that? I think I did…). This is actually a really great city. I like the way it's laid out along the various canals and waterways, I love the slightly crooked traditional Dutch apartment buildings, I can enjoy a good coffee (rather than whatever it was they were giving me in the UK and Ireland), and I can get EVERYWHERE on my bicycle. Ah yes the bicycle – ruler of all the earth – the bicycle. How nice to ride around for a few days knowing that with the "tink" of a small bell you can exert a power greater than the forces of Communist China. Awesome.
Now in fact I had been to Amsterdam before, but the last two trips had been with Rugby tours from London. Rugby tours that departed – with a great many cases of warm beer – at 7am in the morning. So as you can imagine, my previous impressions of Amsterdam were somewhat blurry… There wasn't a lot of time to "take it all in" – I was too busy being marched off to the next bar in between brief moments of running onto a football field and attempting to play for 20mins (it was a 10-a-side tournament) without touching the ball or tackling anyone. (As a Fly-half, I had mastered the no tackling part very early in my career…).
This time around I am happy to say I managed to last 3 days without going to a club in the red light district and without getting plastered, stoned or any other derivation of the phrase "making a mess of ones self". Yes I hear you, I hear you – not very Rock'n'roll of me to have a sober, clean 3 days in Amsterdam, but I never said I was cool, folks. I never said I was cool. And instead of feeling like crap each morning, I was able to check out a lot of the city on my trusty two-wheeler. Even got to and from my gigs each night using good old pedal power with my guitar tucked under one arm! Had a great time.
THURS 21/8 – CAFÉ 'SKEK
I was intrigued by my initial invitation to play at 'Skek. Any place that puts an apostrophe before the start of the name is surely a little strange… Is this the reverse of the plural for I wonder? What would that be? Half a café perhaps? Well obviously we are dealing with a different language here yes, but thanks for pointing it out. It turns out that 'Skek is in fact a whole café, and it even has a nice little upright piano on the stage – an unexpected but very welcome surprise.
Good little crowd in for a Thursday night, including a few people I knew from back in the homeland. In fact, there was a table FULL of Aussies who had all made the trek down from The Hague that night especially for the gig! (Thanks Kate). And wouldn't you know it, they weren't on a fanatics tour, they didn't have their faces painted with green and/or gold zinc cream, and not once did they ask me if I knew the words to "Aussie Aussie Aussie, Oi Oi Oi". Thank Christ for that. In the world of patriotic national war cries, I do believe Australia can lay claim to having the most boring, uninventive, and down right annoying of them all. New Zealand, for instance, have The Haka – an ancient tribal tradition passed down through generations in which participants are required to perform a carefully choreographed routine, demonstrating timing, agility and precision. We have a song with 2 words, each repeated 3 times, usually led by the dumbest person available, preferably the person with the biggest mullet who is more often than not selected because he is also the most intoxicated, and therefore the one with the least chance of saying anything else. Failing that, somebody pays John Williamson a lot of money, and 80,000 people try to sing our rugby team to sleep with an old folk song before the match kicks off. And we wonder why we keep losing the Bledisloe cup!
This was my first show in a non-English speaking country, so I was never entirely sure if half the people in the bar actually understood what I was singing about, or indeed what I was saying in between songs. And as I may have mentioned, or as you may have picked up, I don't mind a bit of a ramble in between songs. (Much like when I am putting together tour blogs in fact). That's how I keep myself amused anyway, for better or worse. Fortunately as I looked around the room I did notice a few heads nodding here and there, so I am assuming that for those that didn't have any idea what I was talking about, there was at least someone nearby to translate what I was saying. Be that a literal translation, or one which made me look like a complete muppet. Come to think of it, there were a few more laughs than normal…. Hmmm….
The night over, there was time to catch up with a few old friends and meet a few new ones at the open mic night, which runs each Thursday after the "feature artist". If you could call me that. Really I was just the bloke who kicked it off and played for the longest time…
FRI 22/8 – CAFÉ BLIVERTJE
Ok first of all, I have no idea how to pronounce the name of this café. In fact, I really can't pronounce anything in Dutch at all. It's like the alphabet has been thrown into one of those big lotto barrels and someone has drawn and re-drawn hundreds of thousands of times over to create the national dictionary. It seems quite common for the average Dutch person to sound like they are choking on flem as they order a beer, or a coffee, or anything really. So I give up on "Blivertje". Say nothing of the fact that, like 'Skek the night before, the "café" advertises itself as 't Blivertje. Again with the random pre-word apostrophe mark. I don't understand, but I was happy to run with it.
The astute observers amongst you will notice that I put the word "cafe" in inverted commas. This is because it is not a café in the normal sense of the word. The Blivertje – say it again, Blivertje – is in fact a squatters house! Yes, you heard me correctly – a squatters house. Someone had mentioned it to me the night before, but to be honest I hadn't really taken much notice, and when I arrived I was, to be fair, a little surprised. I think the same could be said for my friend from Australia, who last saw me play at the Hopetoun or the Cat and Fiddle or some other Sydney venue of that nature…. A slight contrast here…
Apparently squatters are fairly common in Amsterdam, and this is not the only place of this nature that exists. The Blivertje more or less serves as a headquarters of sorts where the various squatters in the neighbourhood gather together to eat dinner and catch up over a beer or two, as well as check out a bit of live music. The venue itself changes location roughly once a year – whenever the owners reclaim possession of the property. But after speaking to Hank, its seems that they are usually able to find a new spot fairly quickly.
I felt uncomfortable for all of 5 seconds, but I quickly began to feel like part of the family, and part of the furniture. It turns out that Hank, the man in charge, is a big supporter of independent music, and a number of the local singer-songwriters in Amsterdam often come through here to play. He's also an artist of sorts - so there was a great little cartoon of me that he had prepared for a flyer. I will have to post it in my tour photos when I can work out how to scan it in - very cool. Apparently they also have bands here – the last one was a 10-piece! I don't know where they would have put them all to be honest in between the old couches, computers and whatever else has been accumulated over the years, but Hank tells me it was an awesome show. And I believe him. At any rate, a bloke who's willing to give a random Aussie his own show on a Friday night at a week's notice is alright by me! I should add here that whilst the Blivertje didn't pay me any money, they did provide the best vegetarian curry I have EVER had, and beers were also on the house. Not that I would have minded paying – turns out they were selling them for the princely sum of 1 Euro.
The show itself was quiet, but really enjoyable. Potentially a slightly bigger language problem than Café 'Skek, but people clapped from time to time so I am assuming that was a good sign…. Also performing that night was a guy by the name of Frank, originally from France, who had recently moved to Amsterdam to be with his girlfriend and was just getting started on the local scene. Frank was an exceptional guitarist, and after speaking to him later that night it turns out he had toured Europe as a bass player several times over with a well known French artist – Yanne Matis (www.myspace.com/yannematis). These are two of the things I like most about music – you never know where it might take you, and you never know who you might meet. Apparently Frank has set up a "Rhythm section for hire" with a local drummer, and when I return to Europe next year with my new album finished, I may even be able to arrange a couple of full band shows in Amsterdam! Now that would be cool. (This is assuming of course I still can't afford to take my own rhythm section from Australia, who I wouldn't replace for the world. One day fellas, one day…).
Left to head home with a pretty good feeling about the Blivertje, particularly Hank who had booked me the show. So often it seems to be the case that the people with the least in this world are also happiest. Sydneysiders take note (myself included). I will definitely be stopping by again the next time I am in town.
So after one more day in Amsterdam, and a hell of a lot more cycling, it was time for me to bid farewell. Onwards to Paris, the city of love, or at least the city of "love"ly things…. if you're travelling solo like me… Oh Molly Mae, where art thou?
Time for a new blog I think.
(Turns out that wasn't so brief after all... What a surprise!)
Wednesday, September 03, 2008
The Weekly... Volume SCOTLAND
Ok another long one here folks, but I am spending a whole lot of time on trains... Enjoy!
SCOTLAND…
Whoops, I was reading back over that last blog and all of a sudden noticed my over-enthusiastic use of the exclamation mark as I neared my not-so-dramatic conclusion. I’ll try to be a bit more sparing this time… Incidentally, I am still trying to patent the “in-between” mark (I have mentioned this before) – that being half way between a full stop and an exclamation mark. Because there really needs to be a middle ground. (I could have used it here you see – by using the full stop it seems like I don’t really care too much about it, but if I used an exclamation mark then that would make me way too excited, or mad, or some other inappropriate emotional state).
I would show you what the “in between” mark looks like but, obviously, the symbol does not currently exist on the standard computer keyboard. Hence the constant full stop / exclamation mark conundrum that we all go through. Come on you know what I’m talking about. (Insert here again).
ANYWAY…
Where am I? Scotland. I like Scotland. In particular Edinburgh – such a great old city. The people are nice, and there is a strange sense of familiarity about it – almost like coming home, in a way. I’m not sure if I feel that way because I have been here before, or because of the welcome that we all received from the airport express bus driver which, from what I can remember, went something along the lines of:
“Good morning and welcome to Edinburgh. It’s wonderful to have you here with us. So glad you could come. This is the airport express bus, and I’ll be taking you into the middle of the city. If you need anything at all on our trip today, please do not hesitate to come up and ask and I’ll do my absolute best to help you out. For those of you who wish to get off at any point, please just press one of the many buttons you see throughout the bus and I’ll gladly pull over for you at the very next stop. If you have any other questions, again please feel free to come up and ask me. Ok then, I hope you have a fantastic stay in Edinburgh.”
“It really is wonderful to have you here”.
“Really really wonderful. Marvelous.”
(OK that last part was possibly a slight exaggeration).
All of this delivered with the warmest of warm Scottish accents. Like that cup of tea that you put your hands around on a cold rainy afternoon… that’s the type of comforting effect it was having on the airport express passengers that day. I may have even picked up a collective “Aaaahhhhh” as the driver finished what he had to say. This whilst I am smiling and thinking to myself:
“Thanks mate. You know what, I am glad to be here. Too right. And I think I really will have a fantastic stay”.
And it turns out I did.
THURS 14/8 – BLOC BAR, GLASGOW
The astute observers here may have picked up that this was the night after my final show in Dublin… which made for a pretty big day when you consider I had to wake up at 4am to catch a flight to Edinburgh. I think by the time I actually got to sleep after my show it was around 2am. That’s 22hrs if I remember correctly the addition/subtraction thing they taught me in my Commerce degree…
Arriving in Edinburgh, there was enough time to grab a coffee, dump my bags at the place I was staying for the next few days, and return to the “Royal Mile” (or the High Street as it was also called) to play my first busking spot. Several weeks earlier, I had managed to secure a busking “pitch” for 20mins each day on the Royal Mile, which is the main street performance area for the entire festival.
Now I’ve never been a huge busker, but I don’t mind doing it from time to time. Having said that, I could sense things would be difficult as I arrived and noticed two opera singers - in full costume - singing away to a fairly large crowd in the same spot I was about to play. Hmmm….. Then glancing up the street, I noticed the other busking pitches, which consisted of a Magician, an Illusionist duo, and a pair of Contortionists from Ghana. This is to say nothing of the Acrobats and Japanese drummers that were waiting to perform… Nor the selection of the worlds best street performers who were constantly rotating on the larger pitches in the middle of the street, performing to crowds numbering in the hundreds.
So you see I had my work cut out for me trying to compete with all that – bearing in mind I had just my songs and an acoustic guitar, and no real desire to paint my face or adopt any sort of ridiculous costume... That said, I thought I gave a pretty good account of myself, and managed to collect enough loose change in 20mins to pay for a sandwich, which I was fairly happy with. I am quite easily pleased.
(If you’re keen to see some busking footage, there is now a bit on Youtube – thanks Amanda – just do a search for “Renny Field” on www.youtube.com)
The Royal Mile is the central focal point for the entire festival, because that’s where everyone comes to check out the street performances, and it’s right in the middle of town. It’s also where all the other performers come to promote their shows (Comedy/Theatre/Dance/Music/Whatever!) that are running for the duration of the festival. At times it seemed like there were more people handing out flyers that there were members of the general public. Literally. (And the flyer-hander-outerers included myself for a few days… courtesy of my upcoming show). It’s practically impossible to make a choice – invariably you end up basing a decision on a friend’s recommendation, or taking a chance on something because it’s on at a time you happen to be free. I favoured the latter option for the main part, and saw a pretty diverse range of shows in the few days I was there. The scale of the event is quite amazing – hundreds of venues, thousands of artists and performers. They say the population of Edinburgh triples for the festival, and it wouldn’t be far off. From sun up till sun down and to sun up again. It basically runs right through the day and night. Madness, but great fun.
Anyway, I lost track there – I am meant to be discussing a show in Glasgow…
Glasgow is just under an hour from Edinburgh on the train, and is the bigger of the two cities. Turns out you actually head west to Glasgow, not North as I had originally thought on that first train journey. Which left my sense of direction completely askew. And I struggle with the North/South thing at the best of times. So understandably, I did the safest thing possible when I got in to Glasgow – sat down at the restaurant in the train station and ordered dinner. How very adventurous of me. As luck would have it, the waitress spoke a peculiar Glasweigan brand of English that I was more or less able to understand – hence I departed the restaurant with a full stomach and a rough idea of the directions to the Bloc Bar. 20mins and a few circles later, I was there. If there is one thing this tour has certainly taught me, it is to embrace “the backtrack”.
Despite arranging the gig at late notice, this was in fact my own headline show (a rare opportunity on this tour…) so it was nice to play for an hour or so and not have to stop after 5 songs. Bar Bloc is a great little underground bar. I say ‘underground’, but it’s more like ‘half underground’, as are several bars along the same street – sitting a few stairs below street level, almost like they don’t really want people to know about them… but people do of course know about them... Turns lots of the bars were pretty packed that night, which ends up giving the street a really cool atmosphere.
The Bloc Bar wasn’t exactly sold out for my show, but there were still a few people there to play to, and a few of them even seemed vaguely interested in what I was doing – bonus. I forget sometimes when I am playing the songs ALL the time that the people I am playing them to have NEVER heard them before. So I imagine it’s difficult to get through a full hour of original material…. Perhaps I should learn a few Elvis covers? (Or perhaps not).
A nice girl by the name of Paula opened up for me in Glasgow, and not only did she do a fine job of performing, but she also brought a friend who was able to give me a lift to the train station when I finished the show! A mad dash ensued (as per my usual method of being “on time”, and I bolted from the car to the train – sneaking through the closing doors just in time to get back to Edinburgh. Phew. After a day like that, I really didn’t need to be sleeping in the Queen Street train station for the night, as impressive as it may be… But I did quite like my first trip to Glasgow!
Zzzzzzzzzzz…. Taxi……… Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
FRI 15/8 – THE 13TH NOTE, GLASGOW
A nice sleep in was followed by another stint of busking. I think my crowd numbered about 3 at its peak, but hey at least I can say I was there! Another trip to Glasgow on the train – this time heading West, not North… And voila! I was there again. Needed to find some guitar strings, and noticed a group of 14yo Emo teenagers on the street corner who, of course, knew exactly where the nearest guitar shop was. Excellent.
Time for a quick beer with a friend (who was also having me to stay that night – fortunately no midnight trains to Edinburgh…), then back to drop off the gear and onwards to the 13th note… What a cool venue! This one is underground (ie fully underground, not partially like the previous evening), and old, dirty, grungy, small – all those things you would expect of a really great old rock venue. Which is apparently the type of reputation the 13th note has in Glasgow. Sadly for me, there seemed to be a problem…
Upon walking down the stairs, guitar in hand, I was greeted by slightly bemused looks from the band that was already there. I had been in contact via myspace with one of the guys from the headline act, “Local Tour Guide”, and the last correspondence I had received was telling me to come along as I would be able to do a set to open up. Apparently I had failed to receive the following message, negating the previous one, which informed me that the support spot was no longer possible… Which made things slightly awkward as I strolled in to perform! Fortunately, a series of frenzied negotiations managed to persuade the powers that be to let me play a few songs anyway… on account of the fact that I had come all the way from Australia… and I am not the sort of person who usually arrives to play at places that aren’t expecting me… (Having said that, if I was that sort of person, then the tactic would have worked. Maybe we could all try it a few times and see if we end up getting a gig – we can call it the “Rock up unannounced with guitar in hand” project).
So a big thanks to Stevie and Local Tour Guide (www.myspace.com/localtourguide), and thanks to the venue for being kind enough to let me play – and kind enough to invite me back, but next time with a more definite booking please… if at all possible…
Went to a cool bar after the show called the Pig and Butterfly, or the Butterfly and Pig – I can’t remember. Another example of the British tendency to couple two unlikely animals / objects together and decide that they would make a good bar name. But it was a great bar, and plenty of 60’s/70’s swing music to dance to. (Or watch people dancing to if, like me, you are allergic to dancing yourself). Anyway worth a look – I recommend it if you’re ever in Glasgow. (However I do NOT recommend eating a MacDonalds chocolate brownie on the way home).
SAT 16/8 – EDINBURGH
Returned to Edinburgh early on the train, and got talking to a bloke who was playing guitar for a few different bands. Nice enough chap – keen to impress with his virtuosic guitar skills which he was displaying for most of the journey… Wasted on me of course, because I just write songs and play chords. Scales and arpeggios were never my thing…
More busking today. 3 down, 3 to go. Also tried busking on a street corner just off the Royal Mile for something different, but the crowd numbers were about the same. My biggest source of income was in fact from a bloke who wanted to play my guitar, just so his wife could take a photo of him “busking” at the Fringe Festival. This achieved, he promptly dropped my guitar onto the pavement. Cheers mate – great job. But I still will always try to allow people to play a song if they ask, because I remember what it was like to be that bloke asking to play… so in some ways now I feel a sense of responsibility… if that makes sense…
No show in the evening, instead went to see a dance performance by a Californian theatre company. Very interesting. The piece was mainly performed on stilts, and it was outdoors, which was quite a nice change from the small theatres in which you are watching most shows in at the fringe. Anyway it was a beautiful show – and something very unique. Glad I got to check it out. If only I cold remember the bloody name.
SUN 17/8 – THE VILLAGE, EDINBURGH
Well my time in Scotland had really been building towards this show, as I had booked this one first, and it was my only headline show in Edinburgh. I was not officially part of the fringe program but fortunately happened to be passing through at the same time of the year, which was a nice mistake on my part. (Whoops did I just say that? Ah no-one’s reading). Ahem, I meant perfectly arranged by myself to coincide with one of the largest arts festivals in the world! Incidentally, I had again taken part in the festival that day with another more-or-less undetected busking performance on the Royal Mile. I don’t think “flying under the radar” is really meant to be the idea, but sure enough I found a way. Anyway, again it was a good laugh – this time there was at least some assistance from the organisers, who were apparently doing their best to try and get the over-enthusiastic bongo / conga group next door to play softer on account of the “acoustic guitarist who is barely audible”. Ah thanks for trying fellas, but little did you know that I was kind of enjoying being barely audible… in a funny sort of way. Gave me something else to write about in the blog.
The Village is a beautiful little pub in the suburb of Leith, which as luck would have it was right where I was staying. Just around the corner in fact. How convenient. I thought walking to my gigs in Surry Hills was cool, but being able to walk to my gigs in Edinburgh? Well that’s just taking it to a new level entirely!
The performance room was everything you might expect from a “beautiful little pub” in Edinburgh – an old stone interior recently refurbished and beautifully appointed – just perfect for a solo acoustic show. Couldn’t have asked for anything better really, and I will definitely have to return one day. I will post some tour photos when I get a chance.
Opening up for the night were a duo from Aberdeen on Guitar/Harmonica – Nicky Powell and Neil Evans. Nicky being a boys’ name of course, not the girl version… I feel I should make this distinction because, after all, my own name is somewhat sexually ambivalent. The guys performed a great set to a small but appreciative audience.
What’s that I hear you ask? Why did I get people from Aberdeen to support me when I was in Edinburgh?? Well that’s easy – because I met someone on myspace of course… in one of my many late-night internet sessions whilst trying to book shows for the tour. A girl by the name of Amanda had been trying to help me get a show in Aberdeen in the North of Scotland (which was eventually achieved) – and it turns out Amanda was actually a poet, and was going to be in Edinburgh for a few days around the time of my show. Hence, Amanda was actually booked in to do a short set of poetry in between myself and the opening act… the opening act that had not yet been arranged due to my limited knowledge of musicians in Edinburgh…. And so Amanda asked Nicky and Neil if they would like to do it… and VOILA! So not only is Amanda a great poet, but it turns out she also doubles as a booking agent and part-time tour manager. Legend. And her set of poetry that night went down a treat too. I must try to do that sort of thing again – it was nice to hear something different.
(Did you follow that? I lost myself about half way through – I am too busy looking out the train window – I think I just entered France. Will be in Paris soon…)
As for my set, well I thought it went OK.
Actually bugger that – it was awesome!
I wouldn’t normally go to those extremes, but to be honest I think it was my favourite show of the whole tour. A lot to do with the room and in particular the crowd, who I must thank for making the trek out to Leith – not exactly in the middle of the city, and certainly a big call when there are several hundred venues which would have been a lot closer. So thanks for making it such a great night – hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.
Another few points to Edinburgh in the favourite city stakes…
MON 18/8 – EDINBURGH
20 more minutes of invisible busking negotiated after what was, as expected, a fairly lazy morning. I forget that the rest of the world goes to work on a Monday. But then again the rest of the world doesn’t work till 1am on a Sunday night, so I don’t have to feel so bad…
Took a trek up the hills that overlook Edinburgh – a great walk if you have the time. The view of the city from Arthur’s seat is spectacular. The view from the second peak, the higher of the two, would have been even more spectacular if it wasn’t for the thick Scottish fog that closed in just as I approached the summit, hence leaving me staring at what I assume would be a life-size version of the Cumulo Nimbis clouds I read about in my year 8 science text book. Another day of balmy summer weather – I guess people get used to it. Anyway my attempt to wait out the fog didn’t appear to work, and I had to be content with a slightly less impressive viewpoint when I had climbed back down a sufficient distance… Ah not to worry, at least I had given myself that sense of achievement that makes any traveller’s day worthwhile.
Saw a few shows later on – some free comedy, a musical, some drama, dance. Got lost a few times. Also noticed another several hundred venues and rooms which I never knew existed, and I was really only scratching the surface. I have said it before, but the festival, and what it does to the city, is really something to behold.
TUES 19/8 – THE TUNNELS, ABERDEEN
Well despite briefly contemplating retiring from the world of busking (at least from busking at the Fringe Festival anyway), I managed to keep my place each day – at 1.35pm on “Alcove 2”. That’s what they called my location. And even if the crowds weren’t 5-deep to hear my tunes, it was still a great experience. If for no other reason other than to say I was there. Along the way I met some interesting people, some even more interesting performers, and it gave me an opportunity to experience the festival in a very unique way. The last two days I was preceded by “The Rock Wizard”. No idea what the actual stage name was, but picture and old man with a very long beard dressed in a purple cape and a wizards hat whilst furiously strumming an acoustic guitar and singing in a barely audible manner. I briefly contemplated asking him if I could borrow the cape, but thought better of it… Hence I was able to finish the week off with my artistic integrity intact. For what it was worth. (Not a great deal, but enough for a few lunches).
The trip to Aberdeen was around 3hrs on the train – the East Coast Express or something similar. Turns out they have free wireless internet which is worth remembering if you’re ever touring in the UK – will save you a lot of cash in the internet cafes!
Aberdeen upon arrival was, how shall I put it…. Grey. Very grey in fact. The buildings were all grey you see, and the sky that afternoon appeared to be more or less the same colour, which made for a surreal other-worldy experience. Almost like I was wandering around in George Orwell’s 1984… if that makes sense. Anyway I did manage to find the venue and have a brief look around the town, but on account of the lack of colour and the imminent storm that was brewing (I assumed) I retreated to the nearest pub for dinner and – you guessed it – some grade-A Aberdeen Angus Beef. Turns out the Aberdeen Angus Beef isn’t as Aberdeen-Angus as you might expect. (A bit more like “Fell off the back of the truck driven by Angus somewhere near Aberdeen”). Can’t say it was a memorable meal (I was warned), but it was filling, so that at least ticks one box on the starving artist checklist.
Well it turns out that, as is often the case, first impressions count for little, because the show that night was a great way to finish my time in Scotland. The Tunnels is tucked away beneath the street somewhere (in a Tunnel – funny that), which made for a really good “rock” room. Fortunately for me, Tuesday nights are singer-songwriter nights, so the lack of an amplifier didn’t hurt me. Having said that, I must make a note that in future when I play these types of places, I think it would be worthwhile investing in a few more black T-shirts. The blue one seemed out of place – almost like I was a surfer who went to find the beach, but took a wrong turn somewhere near Cairns and ended up on the other side of the world. Still, I really enjoyed the gig, and my “colourful” attire didn’t seem to count against me. Actually the Aberdeenian Musos were very welcoming, and the next time I come to Scotland I will certainly be taking the train up North again because there are a few good opportunities to play your songs up there. Apparently the sun also comes out from time to time and you do actually feel like you are in the real world.
My thanks to Craig, whose help make the show possible. Also to Amanda who was generally helping me the whole time, and finally to Collette – who offered to put me up in her room whilst she stayed elsewhere. This on account of there being no available rooms in Aberdeen… on a Tuesday night… Something about the oil rig changeover day apparently… Good thing Collette was around, because otherwise I was heading back to the benches in the train station!
Managed to make my early train back to Edinburgh in the morning, then it was a one-way trip to the Airport for the flight to Amsterdam. (I did notice the bus driver on the way out of Edinburgh was no-where near as friendly as the one on the way in. If it was that guy, he might have been in tears at losing so many visitors all at the same time… ).
So farewell Scotland – I do really like you. Quite a lot actually. I’ll be back soon.
Next instalment – Amsterdam, Paris and Berlin. Good to be on the road!
Stay tuned…
SCOTLAND…
Whoops, I was reading back over that last blog and all of a sudden noticed my over-enthusiastic use of the exclamation mark as I neared my not-so-dramatic conclusion. I’ll try to be a bit more sparing this time… Incidentally, I am still trying to patent the “in-between” mark (I have mentioned this before) – that being half way between a full stop and an exclamation mark. Because there really needs to be a middle ground. (I could have used it here you see – by using the full stop it seems like I don’t really care too much about it, but if I used an exclamation mark then that would make me way too excited, or mad, or some other inappropriate emotional state).
I would show you what the “in between” mark looks like but, obviously, the symbol does not currently exist on the standard computer keyboard. Hence the constant full stop / exclamation mark conundrum that we all go through. Come on you know what I’m talking about. (Insert here again).
ANYWAY…
Where am I? Scotland. I like Scotland. In particular Edinburgh – such a great old city. The people are nice, and there is a strange sense of familiarity about it – almost like coming home, in a way. I’m not sure if I feel that way because I have been here before, or because of the welcome that we all received from the airport express bus driver which, from what I can remember, went something along the lines of:
“Good morning and welcome to Edinburgh. It’s wonderful to have you here with us. So glad you could come. This is the airport express bus, and I’ll be taking you into the middle of the city. If you need anything at all on our trip today, please do not hesitate to come up and ask and I’ll do my absolute best to help you out. For those of you who wish to get off at any point, please just press one of the many buttons you see throughout the bus and I’ll gladly pull over for you at the very next stop. If you have any other questions, again please feel free to come up and ask me. Ok then, I hope you have a fantastic stay in Edinburgh.”
“It really is wonderful to have you here”.
“Really really wonderful. Marvelous.”
(OK that last part was possibly a slight exaggeration).
All of this delivered with the warmest of warm Scottish accents. Like that cup of tea that you put your hands around on a cold rainy afternoon… that’s the type of comforting effect it was having on the airport express passengers that day. I may have even picked up a collective “Aaaahhhhh” as the driver finished what he had to say. This whilst I am smiling and thinking to myself:
“Thanks mate. You know what, I am glad to be here. Too right. And I think I really will have a fantastic stay”.
And it turns out I did.
THURS 14/8 – BLOC BAR, GLASGOW
The astute observers here may have picked up that this was the night after my final show in Dublin… which made for a pretty big day when you consider I had to wake up at 4am to catch a flight to Edinburgh. I think by the time I actually got to sleep after my show it was around 2am. That’s 22hrs if I remember correctly the addition/subtraction thing they taught me in my Commerce degree…
Arriving in Edinburgh, there was enough time to grab a coffee, dump my bags at the place I was staying for the next few days, and return to the “Royal Mile” (or the High Street as it was also called) to play my first busking spot. Several weeks earlier, I had managed to secure a busking “pitch” for 20mins each day on the Royal Mile, which is the main street performance area for the entire festival.
Now I’ve never been a huge busker, but I don’t mind doing it from time to time. Having said that, I could sense things would be difficult as I arrived and noticed two opera singers - in full costume - singing away to a fairly large crowd in the same spot I was about to play. Hmmm….. Then glancing up the street, I noticed the other busking pitches, which consisted of a Magician, an Illusionist duo, and a pair of Contortionists from Ghana. This is to say nothing of the Acrobats and Japanese drummers that were waiting to perform… Nor the selection of the worlds best street performers who were constantly rotating on the larger pitches in the middle of the street, performing to crowds numbering in the hundreds.
So you see I had my work cut out for me trying to compete with all that – bearing in mind I had just my songs and an acoustic guitar, and no real desire to paint my face or adopt any sort of ridiculous costume... That said, I thought I gave a pretty good account of myself, and managed to collect enough loose change in 20mins to pay for a sandwich, which I was fairly happy with. I am quite easily pleased.
(If you’re keen to see some busking footage, there is now a bit on Youtube – thanks Amanda – just do a search for “Renny Field” on www.youtube.com)
The Royal Mile is the central focal point for the entire festival, because that’s where everyone comes to check out the street performances, and it’s right in the middle of town. It’s also where all the other performers come to promote their shows (Comedy/Theatre/Dance/Music/Whatever!) that are running for the duration of the festival. At times it seemed like there were more people handing out flyers that there were members of the general public. Literally. (And the flyer-hander-outerers included myself for a few days… courtesy of my upcoming show). It’s practically impossible to make a choice – invariably you end up basing a decision on a friend’s recommendation, or taking a chance on something because it’s on at a time you happen to be free. I favoured the latter option for the main part, and saw a pretty diverse range of shows in the few days I was there. The scale of the event is quite amazing – hundreds of venues, thousands of artists and performers. They say the population of Edinburgh triples for the festival, and it wouldn’t be far off. From sun up till sun down and to sun up again. It basically runs right through the day and night. Madness, but great fun.
Anyway, I lost track there – I am meant to be discussing a show in Glasgow…
Glasgow is just under an hour from Edinburgh on the train, and is the bigger of the two cities. Turns out you actually head west to Glasgow, not North as I had originally thought on that first train journey. Which left my sense of direction completely askew. And I struggle with the North/South thing at the best of times. So understandably, I did the safest thing possible when I got in to Glasgow – sat down at the restaurant in the train station and ordered dinner. How very adventurous of me. As luck would have it, the waitress spoke a peculiar Glasweigan brand of English that I was more or less able to understand – hence I departed the restaurant with a full stomach and a rough idea of the directions to the Bloc Bar. 20mins and a few circles later, I was there. If there is one thing this tour has certainly taught me, it is to embrace “the backtrack”.
Despite arranging the gig at late notice, this was in fact my own headline show (a rare opportunity on this tour…) so it was nice to play for an hour or so and not have to stop after 5 songs. Bar Bloc is a great little underground bar. I say ‘underground’, but it’s more like ‘half underground’, as are several bars along the same street – sitting a few stairs below street level, almost like they don’t really want people to know about them… but people do of course know about them... Turns lots of the bars were pretty packed that night, which ends up giving the street a really cool atmosphere.
The Bloc Bar wasn’t exactly sold out for my show, but there were still a few people there to play to, and a few of them even seemed vaguely interested in what I was doing – bonus. I forget sometimes when I am playing the songs ALL the time that the people I am playing them to have NEVER heard them before. So I imagine it’s difficult to get through a full hour of original material…. Perhaps I should learn a few Elvis covers? (Or perhaps not).
A nice girl by the name of Paula opened up for me in Glasgow, and not only did she do a fine job of performing, but she also brought a friend who was able to give me a lift to the train station when I finished the show! A mad dash ensued (as per my usual method of being “on time”, and I bolted from the car to the train – sneaking through the closing doors just in time to get back to Edinburgh. Phew. After a day like that, I really didn’t need to be sleeping in the Queen Street train station for the night, as impressive as it may be… But I did quite like my first trip to Glasgow!
Zzzzzzzzzzz…. Taxi……… Zzzzzzzzzzzzzzzzz.
FRI 15/8 – THE 13TH NOTE, GLASGOW
A nice sleep in was followed by another stint of busking. I think my crowd numbered about 3 at its peak, but hey at least I can say I was there! Another trip to Glasgow on the train – this time heading West, not North… And voila! I was there again. Needed to find some guitar strings, and noticed a group of 14yo Emo teenagers on the street corner who, of course, knew exactly where the nearest guitar shop was. Excellent.
Time for a quick beer with a friend (who was also having me to stay that night – fortunately no midnight trains to Edinburgh…), then back to drop off the gear and onwards to the 13th note… What a cool venue! This one is underground (ie fully underground, not partially like the previous evening), and old, dirty, grungy, small – all those things you would expect of a really great old rock venue. Which is apparently the type of reputation the 13th note has in Glasgow. Sadly for me, there seemed to be a problem…
Upon walking down the stairs, guitar in hand, I was greeted by slightly bemused looks from the band that was already there. I had been in contact via myspace with one of the guys from the headline act, “Local Tour Guide”, and the last correspondence I had received was telling me to come along as I would be able to do a set to open up. Apparently I had failed to receive the following message, negating the previous one, which informed me that the support spot was no longer possible… Which made things slightly awkward as I strolled in to perform! Fortunately, a series of frenzied negotiations managed to persuade the powers that be to let me play a few songs anyway… on account of the fact that I had come all the way from Australia… and I am not the sort of person who usually arrives to play at places that aren’t expecting me… (Having said that, if I was that sort of person, then the tactic would have worked. Maybe we could all try it a few times and see if we end up getting a gig – we can call it the “Rock up unannounced with guitar in hand” project).
So a big thanks to Stevie and Local Tour Guide (www.myspace.com/localtourguide), and thanks to the venue for being kind enough to let me play – and kind enough to invite me back, but next time with a more definite booking please… if at all possible…
Went to a cool bar after the show called the Pig and Butterfly, or the Butterfly and Pig – I can’t remember. Another example of the British tendency to couple two unlikely animals / objects together and decide that they would make a good bar name. But it was a great bar, and plenty of 60’s/70’s swing music to dance to. (Or watch people dancing to if, like me, you are allergic to dancing yourself). Anyway worth a look – I recommend it if you’re ever in Glasgow. (However I do NOT recommend eating a MacDonalds chocolate brownie on the way home).
SAT 16/8 – EDINBURGH
Returned to Edinburgh early on the train, and got talking to a bloke who was playing guitar for a few different bands. Nice enough chap – keen to impress with his virtuosic guitar skills which he was displaying for most of the journey… Wasted on me of course, because I just write songs and play chords. Scales and arpeggios were never my thing…
More busking today. 3 down, 3 to go. Also tried busking on a street corner just off the Royal Mile for something different, but the crowd numbers were about the same. My biggest source of income was in fact from a bloke who wanted to play my guitar, just so his wife could take a photo of him “busking” at the Fringe Festival. This achieved, he promptly dropped my guitar onto the pavement. Cheers mate – great job. But I still will always try to allow people to play a song if they ask, because I remember what it was like to be that bloke asking to play… so in some ways now I feel a sense of responsibility… if that makes sense…
No show in the evening, instead went to see a dance performance by a Californian theatre company. Very interesting. The piece was mainly performed on stilts, and it was outdoors, which was quite a nice change from the small theatres in which you are watching most shows in at the fringe. Anyway it was a beautiful show – and something very unique. Glad I got to check it out. If only I cold remember the bloody name.
SUN 17/8 – THE VILLAGE, EDINBURGH
Well my time in Scotland had really been building towards this show, as I had booked this one first, and it was my only headline show in Edinburgh. I was not officially part of the fringe program but fortunately happened to be passing through at the same time of the year, which was a nice mistake on my part. (Whoops did I just say that? Ah no-one’s reading). Ahem, I meant perfectly arranged by myself to coincide with one of the largest arts festivals in the world! Incidentally, I had again taken part in the festival that day with another more-or-less undetected busking performance on the Royal Mile. I don’t think “flying under the radar” is really meant to be the idea, but sure enough I found a way. Anyway, again it was a good laugh – this time there was at least some assistance from the organisers, who were apparently doing their best to try and get the over-enthusiastic bongo / conga group next door to play softer on account of the “acoustic guitarist who is barely audible”. Ah thanks for trying fellas, but little did you know that I was kind of enjoying being barely audible… in a funny sort of way. Gave me something else to write about in the blog.
The Village is a beautiful little pub in the suburb of Leith, which as luck would have it was right where I was staying. Just around the corner in fact. How convenient. I thought walking to my gigs in Surry Hills was cool, but being able to walk to my gigs in Edinburgh? Well that’s just taking it to a new level entirely!
The performance room was everything you might expect from a “beautiful little pub” in Edinburgh – an old stone interior recently refurbished and beautifully appointed – just perfect for a solo acoustic show. Couldn’t have asked for anything better really, and I will definitely have to return one day. I will post some tour photos when I get a chance.
Opening up for the night were a duo from Aberdeen on Guitar/Harmonica – Nicky Powell and Neil Evans. Nicky being a boys’ name of course, not the girl version… I feel I should make this distinction because, after all, my own name is somewhat sexually ambivalent. The guys performed a great set to a small but appreciative audience.
What’s that I hear you ask? Why did I get people from Aberdeen to support me when I was in Edinburgh?? Well that’s easy – because I met someone on myspace of course… in one of my many late-night internet sessions whilst trying to book shows for the tour. A girl by the name of Amanda had been trying to help me get a show in Aberdeen in the North of Scotland (which was eventually achieved) – and it turns out Amanda was actually a poet, and was going to be in Edinburgh for a few days around the time of my show. Hence, Amanda was actually booked in to do a short set of poetry in between myself and the opening act… the opening act that had not yet been arranged due to my limited knowledge of musicians in Edinburgh…. And so Amanda asked Nicky and Neil if they would like to do it… and VOILA! So not only is Amanda a great poet, but it turns out she also doubles as a booking agent and part-time tour manager. Legend. And her set of poetry that night went down a treat too. I must try to do that sort of thing again – it was nice to hear something different.
(Did you follow that? I lost myself about half way through – I am too busy looking out the train window – I think I just entered France. Will be in Paris soon…)
As for my set, well I thought it went OK.
Actually bugger that – it was awesome!
I wouldn’t normally go to those extremes, but to be honest I think it was my favourite show of the whole tour. A lot to do with the room and in particular the crowd, who I must thank for making the trek out to Leith – not exactly in the middle of the city, and certainly a big call when there are several hundred venues which would have been a lot closer. So thanks for making it such a great night – hope you enjoyed it as much as I did.
Another few points to Edinburgh in the favourite city stakes…
MON 18/8 – EDINBURGH
20 more minutes of invisible busking negotiated after what was, as expected, a fairly lazy morning. I forget that the rest of the world goes to work on a Monday. But then again the rest of the world doesn’t work till 1am on a Sunday night, so I don’t have to feel so bad…
Took a trek up the hills that overlook Edinburgh – a great walk if you have the time. The view of the city from Arthur’s seat is spectacular. The view from the second peak, the higher of the two, would have been even more spectacular if it wasn’t for the thick Scottish fog that closed in just as I approached the summit, hence leaving me staring at what I assume would be a life-size version of the Cumulo Nimbis clouds I read about in my year 8 science text book. Another day of balmy summer weather – I guess people get used to it. Anyway my attempt to wait out the fog didn’t appear to work, and I had to be content with a slightly less impressive viewpoint when I had climbed back down a sufficient distance… Ah not to worry, at least I had given myself that sense of achievement that makes any traveller’s day worthwhile.
Saw a few shows later on – some free comedy, a musical, some drama, dance. Got lost a few times. Also noticed another several hundred venues and rooms which I never knew existed, and I was really only scratching the surface. I have said it before, but the festival, and what it does to the city, is really something to behold.
TUES 19/8 – THE TUNNELS, ABERDEEN
Well despite briefly contemplating retiring from the world of busking (at least from busking at the Fringe Festival anyway), I managed to keep my place each day – at 1.35pm on “Alcove 2”. That’s what they called my location. And even if the crowds weren’t 5-deep to hear my tunes, it was still a great experience. If for no other reason other than to say I was there. Along the way I met some interesting people, some even more interesting performers, and it gave me an opportunity to experience the festival in a very unique way. The last two days I was preceded by “The Rock Wizard”. No idea what the actual stage name was, but picture and old man with a very long beard dressed in a purple cape and a wizards hat whilst furiously strumming an acoustic guitar and singing in a barely audible manner. I briefly contemplated asking him if I could borrow the cape, but thought better of it… Hence I was able to finish the week off with my artistic integrity intact. For what it was worth. (Not a great deal, but enough for a few lunches).
The trip to Aberdeen was around 3hrs on the train – the East Coast Express or something similar. Turns out they have free wireless internet which is worth remembering if you’re ever touring in the UK – will save you a lot of cash in the internet cafes!
Aberdeen upon arrival was, how shall I put it…. Grey. Very grey in fact. The buildings were all grey you see, and the sky that afternoon appeared to be more or less the same colour, which made for a surreal other-worldy experience. Almost like I was wandering around in George Orwell’s 1984… if that makes sense. Anyway I did manage to find the venue and have a brief look around the town, but on account of the lack of colour and the imminent storm that was brewing (I assumed) I retreated to the nearest pub for dinner and – you guessed it – some grade-A Aberdeen Angus Beef. Turns out the Aberdeen Angus Beef isn’t as Aberdeen-Angus as you might expect. (A bit more like “Fell off the back of the truck driven by Angus somewhere near Aberdeen”). Can’t say it was a memorable meal (I was warned), but it was filling, so that at least ticks one box on the starving artist checklist.
Well it turns out that, as is often the case, first impressions count for little, because the show that night was a great way to finish my time in Scotland. The Tunnels is tucked away beneath the street somewhere (in a Tunnel – funny that), which made for a really good “rock” room. Fortunately for me, Tuesday nights are singer-songwriter nights, so the lack of an amplifier didn’t hurt me. Having said that, I must make a note that in future when I play these types of places, I think it would be worthwhile investing in a few more black T-shirts. The blue one seemed out of place – almost like I was a surfer who went to find the beach, but took a wrong turn somewhere near Cairns and ended up on the other side of the world. Still, I really enjoyed the gig, and my “colourful” attire didn’t seem to count against me. Actually the Aberdeenian Musos were very welcoming, and the next time I come to Scotland I will certainly be taking the train up North again because there are a few good opportunities to play your songs up there. Apparently the sun also comes out from time to time and you do actually feel like you are in the real world.
My thanks to Craig, whose help make the show possible. Also to Amanda who was generally helping me the whole time, and finally to Collette – who offered to put me up in her room whilst she stayed elsewhere. This on account of there being no available rooms in Aberdeen… on a Tuesday night… Something about the oil rig changeover day apparently… Good thing Collette was around, because otherwise I was heading back to the benches in the train station!
Managed to make my early train back to Edinburgh in the morning, then it was a one-way trip to the Airport for the flight to Amsterdam. (I did notice the bus driver on the way out of Edinburgh was no-where near as friendly as the one on the way in. If it was that guy, he might have been in tears at losing so many visitors all at the same time… ).
So farewell Scotland – I do really like you. Quite a lot actually. I’ll be back soon.
Next instalment – Amsterdam, Paris and Berlin. Good to be on the road!
Stay tuned…
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