Chocks away!

An indication of how quiet it's been on the gigging front lately comes with the news that I've just done my first (and therefore only) gig in Europe this year...

After a late night on Monday (as always I blame East, and as always it's his fault...) I managed an early night on Tuesday in preparation for a very early morning on Wednesday. As my alarm went off at 5 a.m. I realised that I'd woken up every hour more-or-less on the hour throughout the night, and felt more tired than ever. Weird... after a cup of coffee and the usual 'I'm sure I've forgotten something' checks the long-suffering Shirley dropped me at West Ruislip Station (it's a bit easier to go from there rather than from Uxbridge) in time for the 5.47 train into London (that's why I call her long-suffering!) With Will Birch's excellent Ian Dury biography for company the journey passes quickly although I couldn't help noticing how many people are asleep on the train at that time of day. I guess they're just used to it? I could almost have gone to sleep myself if I hadn't bee worried about somebody walking off with my guitar, or in this particular instance, someone else's guitar as I've got Miles's Stratocaster (as mentioned a little while ago) with me - I'll have to buy it now won't I? Well I'm going to anyway as it's a good spare for my Relic Strat which I use for quite a few gigs. Actually that reminds me - I must actually get some gigs...
After an equally easy journey on The DLR I bump into Jon and Stuart on the forecourt outside London City Airport - we're all meeting there for a flight to Belgium where we're playing a Blues Brothers show. 'We' in this case are an amalgam of players from the Chicago Blues Brothers band and The F.B.I. Band - Pete (Jake) Dave (trumpet) Chris (keyboards) and myself (guitar, in case you or indeed I have forgotten) from The CBB-er's alongside Tony (Elwood) Ian (saxophone) Jon (bass) and Stuart (drums) from the F.B.I. boys. We're the first there - Stuart's already checked in online (sensible man!) so Jon and myself make a half-hearted attempt at self service check-in before Pete, Chris and Dave arrive and with Tony and Ian close behind we all check-in by more conventional means.
Jon and I took our instruments to the excess baggage area before going upstairs to make our way through security, which is very tight (I don't know about you but I'm glad it is!) but we're through in time for me to spend £7.40 on a vegetarian sausage sandwich and a cup of coffee (!) before we make our way to Gate 2C where the sight of our aircraft - a Fokker F50 - caused some consternation among group members. I must admit I was a bit nervous myself which is silly if you think about it - I mean, they fly all the time don't they? 'There's gaffa tape holding that propeller together' says Chris cheerily as we all tell ourselves that it's not gaffa tape... overall it turned out to be a fairly uneventful flight even if Dave did describe the take-off as feeling like we were in 'a glider in a catapult', such was the ferocity of our ascent. He also said something about 'a dogfight over the Channel' but I didn't catch the context of that comment, which on reflection may be for the best... we had an amazing view of the wind farm off the Kent coast, and the landing at Antwerp was a bit bumpy but not too bad. After meeting up with our driver (didn't catch his name sadly) and minibus we made the short journey to The Scandic Hotel where we check in. I've got (wait for it!) room 101 (oh yes!) and my door key doesn't work; on my way back to reception I meet Stuart who's got the same problem, and by the time our keys were in working order most of the band had turned up in the lobby with their keys. After successfully gaining access to my room I dropped my stuff off and went out for a stroll - not much of any interest nearby - before coming back to find Pete, Tony Dave and Ian in the bar preparing to leave for the local Christmas market. When their taxi turned up I ordered myself some tomato soup (and very nice it was too) before heading back up to my room. By now I'd realised that my phone wasn't going to work - maybe all the shenanigans earlier in the year when I thought I'd lost it and got a new SIM card as a result have come back to haunt me? - so I messed about with the T.V. for a while, eventually finding BBC1 and 2 (strange how you look for things that you know from home when you're away isn't it?) before indulging in a much-needed shower and some equally much-needed sleep.
2.45 p.m. and it's back down to the lobby to meet up for a 3 o'clock departure for the venue. After about 45 minutes we arrived at Kasteel Van Saffelaere, a castle (yes, you read that bit correctly) which some band members found a little disappointing as it was clearly a rather recent structure - 'I didn't think castles had double glazing' was a typical comment, although there was an astonishing bit of topiary in the garden in the shape (literally!) of a bush cut into the shape of a grand piano complete with pianist, which left Ian and Dave unable to resist the chance for some Red Hornz promotional pictures.
The backline is already set up on stage - I've got the ever popular and indeed ever wonderful Fender Blues Deluxe combo to play through, and Jon's got a Trace Elliot combo which sadly sounds a bit rough so the crew replace it with an Ampeg set-up which brings a smile to Jon's face. After a 'which band's versions do we play?' discussion we decide that we'll go for the F.B.I. arrangements, and soundcheck with 'Midnight Hour', 'Soul Man' and 'My Girl'. With everything sounding good it's off to find our dressing room which is actually The Honeymoon Suite (I'll leave you to do your own punchline!) complete with a four poster bed and a toilet / bathroom that doesn't have a door (again I'll leave you to do your own punchline!) On the way there Ian tells me that his band Swagga have just received some money from Strummerville to put towards recording a single - excellent! They're playing at The Dublin Castle on January 15th which I must try to get along to.
After some food (pasta and tomatoes for me, pasta and prawns for everyone else followed by chocolate pudding) and drink it's back up to The Honeymoon suite to hurry up and wait, or in my case to doze off on 3 giant cushions. 'It looks like you being eaten by 2 giant lips' said Dave as only he can. We're eventually on just before 10 o'clock for 90 minutes of studied indifference, wild acclaim, and all points in between - a classic corporate gig then. Generally it's a good show with the odd mad moment here and there, and we're back at the hotel just in time to discover that the bar had closed. Bugger!

My alarm goes off at 8 a.m. - after a few faltering attempts I get Breakfast T.V. on the telly and reflect on how odd it is to watch British T.V. when you're abroad. It's not that long ago that it would have been unheard of - then again when I got back to my room the previous night I'd found a subtitled 'C.S.I.' and found myself attempting to understand the subtitles rather than listen to the dialog. I think I may have been a little tired... at breakfast Pete, Dave and Chris report on their failed attempts at getting a sauna while I completely failed to see the 'use sliced bread only' sign on the toasting machine and so put some (very) roughly hand sliced bread into it - I don't think too many people smelt the burning...
In the minibus on the way to the airport the radio bursts into life with some accordion music and panic grips the band - 'you hum it, I'll leave' says a clearly disturbed Dave, and Tony says 'it's the sort of music you play when you want your guests to leave' just as a track that Pete thinks sounds like The Mike Sammes Singers comes on. 'We'll Meet Again' is playing as we arrive at the airport and everyone quickly gets out, grabs their things and heads for check-in. There's not much to do at the airport - actually there's pretty much nothing to do at the airport - but there's not too long to wait for our flight. 'There's gaffa tape on these propellers too' says Chris cheerily as a clearly unamused Pete asks Tony if he'll swap seats with him so that he can sit by the window. I spent most of the flight talking to Dave about subjects as diverse as boxing and Stephen Fry (the two weren't linked in case you were wondering) and musing on whether we'd ever see anything other than cloud out of the windows. Back at the airport it's goodbyes to all and sundry although I end up travelling a fair bit of the way home with Jon who I leave at Finchley Road. I was back serving in Balcony Shirts by 1.30 - 3 1/2 hours earlier I was in Antwerp, and my journey from there to London had taken less time than my journey from London to Uxbridge. Back to work eh?

Sorry this posting is a day later than it might have been. As always I blame East, and as always it's his fault...