carogooch

My mother would heartily disapprove (Hi Mum), but I've just spent the best part of two days voting to get Ronnie Vannucci the accolade of Best Drummer of All Time in an NME poll. Have made some new friends though. Myself and the Ronnettes are going to meet up at Hard Rock Calling with matching t-shirts, and hopefully give one to Ronnie, who will by then have had the poll title bestowed on him by those gimps at NME. Always assuming the Muse fans don't put one over us AGAIN and knock our RV off the top spot, AGAIN. It's been one hell of a battle so far. I think I must have cast a good few thousand votes personally, and there are twenty or so of us on the site. We've also reworked some of the Killers songs into songs about the experience of being in Team Ronnie. They're good. One girl is ace at it, and has produced a new version of Human and Spaceman already. I'm working on Bling...reworked as Click: Confessions of a Ronnette. It's a hard one, some of the meter and rhythm are a little difficult. Damn you Flowers.

It's gone 2am, and am utterley bushed. Ronnie is back on top. Ahead of Animal, and that Gorilla from the Mighty Boosh. Also ahead of many great drummers. But no fans love their drummer as much as we love ours. And you just know that Ronnie will be mega-thrilled...I hope so anyway!  I had a little clickety help from Elvis as well, I watched 'That's the way it is' earlier. My God, that man kissed every woman in Las Vegas in one gig!  Fantastic.

That's me, signing off. Those Muse fans had better not have negative voted Ronnie down again when I get up or else I'll waste another day when I could be training for next year's marathon.

Just under a week since my last blog, and I’m back in the Big Smoke. I left Madrid last Tuesday morning, and retraced my steps….or tyre tracks, back the route I had come, to Barcelona, back to the basketball stadium in Badalona that was the location for the best Killers’ gig of the European tour. The reason? An attempt to regain my lost camera. After arriving during siesta, wandering around the building for a bit and writing a plaintive note on the back of a hotel reservation, someone from the basketball club that runs the place rolled up and unlocked the doors. He thought he knew where my camera would have ended up and rang the security office. No joy, they said to call Gamerco, the Spanish ticket agents. So I’ve sent off an email to my new best friend there who did me such a favour in getting my ticket to me after its fruitless journey around Europe at the hands of a courier company who haven’t heard of calling cards. So, I’ll have to wait and see if I get a response. All those pics of bubbles from the O2. I hope I get them back.

From Barcelona, I went back along the coast, popping in on Perpignon like I’d planned. Lovely place, and very good sandwich bars. I recommend the Bologna Panini if you’re ever stuck there hungry. Then I had to choose between heading towards Geneva and going skiing, or heading back to Cannes to search out the very special shoes I’d seen in a shop window. I wasn’t feeling well, so the shoes won. I went back and stayed at the same hotel I’d been at on the way out, and paid a visit to search out these shoes the next morning.

Now, these shoes……well, they’re Ed Hardy converse style shoes, with flowers on the outside, covered in gold mesh, and with a Tiger on the tongue. Now, to Killers fans, that is something special. These are the shoes Brandon Flowers should be wearing. In fact, given Ed Hardy is based in LA, I’m surprised he doesn’t have a pair. These are Neon Tiger shoes. Neon Tiger is a song on the latest Killers album about the band. Many people think Brandon wrote it about himself, but I’m sure he’s not that narcissistic, no, it’s about the band, the band is the Neon Tiger. And these shoes…well, I just had to have them. So, the shop opens, and I’m right in there. The shoes are still in the window, so I ask about them, and the chap brings them for me. Yay!!! That’s his only pair, and they are my size, a 37!! It’s meant to be, I’ve driven all the way back from Spain for these, I’m so excited! I put them on, but….. nooooo!!! The label lies. They are too big! What a shame. So the shop owner rang his daughter who runs another shop, but she doesn’t have a pair. So, nothing for it. I’m not going to buy them if they don’t fit, I’m not that much of a victim. So, I wrote down the website and felt sure I’ll be able to lay my hands on a pair online. No luck so far though. They don't have them in the online store, so it looks like I need to pursue these shoes through the Ed Hardy Stockists in London. Surely, there must be a pair of size 36 Neon Tiger shoes somewhere. Please, please.

From there, I decided to go back to my best mate’s lovely house in Friedrichsdorf, Germany. It took all day, but was definitely the best decision. It was such a fleeting visit to see her on the way out. I got to stay a few days and we had a really good time. The first day I helped her take out a school trip to the local Natural History Museum which had a special deep sea exhibition on. Idiot features here forgot to get a headset though so Becky had to spend a lot of time translating the most interesting bits whilst the kids ran amock. One bit that really annoyed me was finding out that the oil companies are planning to exploit a deep sea carbon source called black smoke, that could provide loads more energy than coal, oil and gas put together. Unfortunately, using this stuff would also release piles more CO2 into the atmosphere than coal, oil or gas do. Also the chemobacteria that live off this stuff are the bottom of the ocean ecosystem. IMO, and this is something the museum failed to say, if you mess with that, and take out the bottom rung of the ecosystem, the whole thing collapses. Why the hell are oil companies being allowed to explore further exploitation of an already broken planet, instead of actually earning their money and DOING something for a change? They should be looking at renewable energy sources, not looking for yet more destructive fossil fuels. Rant, rant, rant. OOOhhhh it makes me mad.

On to happier stuff. That evening, after we dropped Becky’s daughter back at school, so she could do her ‘Spring Sing’, I got to babysit Becky’s son. Now, this is a role I can cope with. ‘Babysitting’ involved Tim (aged 9) and me sitting in the basement home cinema, watching Star Wars movies. Now, Tim hasn’t seen the original films, because his Dad, being a Trekkie, and not a Star Wars fan, thought that Episodes I, II & III were remakes of the originals from the 70s and 80s. Hmm. So, Tim has only seen Ep I. But, the smart lad seems to know an awful lot about the rest of the story from playground gossip. I’m really impressed. He’s not seen the films, but he knows who Luke, Han and Chewie are. He doesn’t know about Leia though, I guess that’s cos he’s 9. So anyway, we got to watch Ep II – snuggled up under duvets with the sound as loud as we like. Every so often, he asks me a question about the plot. I’m so pleased to be able to help. How long is this film on from the last one? How old are Anakin and Padme? Who ordered the clones? He already knows that Palpatine is a Sith, and the future emporer. I love this. Noone my own age is as into this as I am! I also find out that in German you don’t have light sabres, but laser swords, but I fall down in knowing the names of all the ships in English…he wants to know, ‘cos his toys he only knows the German names for. I’m going to have to take this kid to Hamley’s. The next day we watched Ep III, The Clone Wars. Again, he stumps me. Why if they are only building the Death Star at the end, does his computer game of Ep II have it in? Is this a continuity error? Now, I can tell you about all the diferrent and conflicting versions of the Hitch-Hiker’s Guide to the Galaxy, but even my Star Wars knowledge doesn’t involve the games……except for Lego Star Wars on Wii, which is blooming ace!

Anyway, the lad is now primed for episodes IV, V & VI. YOSS!! I can’t wait to get back there…he can’t watch them without me. The Empire Strikes Back is my favourite film of all time, and having a private cinema to watch it in, a comfy sofa, haribo and a little boy who thinks I’m the font of all knowledge and is seeing it all for the first time seems to me to be a pretty good way of spending an afternoon.

The Religion argument came later. Becky had another friend staying, and on the last evening, the 4 adults had a lovely dinner party, and somehow, the religion argument came up. Becky is a devout atheist. Her other guest a churchgoer. Becky’s husband was trying to stay right out of it, and me…..well I’m no fan of organised religion, but I sort of believe in God, (even though I’m a scientist and a Darwinist), and I’m pretty sure that Jesus was a pretty cool Dude. Becky always used to accept my point of view but she’s now really converted to Dawkinsm. I’ve always been a Dawkins fan, but his brand of evangelical atheism is really turning me off. So this row got pretty heated, with Becky defending Dawkins, and being really disappointed and feeling ganged up on because I wasn’t. B thinks Dawkins is just taking on the evangelists in their own way. A sort of ‘if you can’t beat them, join them’ mentality. I’m in trouble because I haven’t read The God Delusion yet, despite having had it on my bookshelves for a fair old while. The thing is, I’ve read enough Dawkins to know already how it’s going to pan out. A flipping tirade –and I’m actually not looking forward to reading it. The trouble with Dawkins is that he doesn’t seem to accept that people are entitled to their own point of view. I agree that noone should foist that point of view on others, which is kind of his point, but then he goes and does the same. And whilst I’m with him that evolution is flipping obvious, every scientist knows that nothing can ever be 100% proven. In this case there’s a heap of evidence on the one side and a lack of evidence to the other. But evolution and the lack of need for a creator doesn’t prove that God doesn’t exist. I don’t believe in a bearded chap in the sky, more in some sort of force. But I do believe in some sort of force. I actually put down ‘Jedi’ as my religion on the last UK census form. It was a kind of joke by the people of Britain and we only just missed getting it recognised as an official religion. Many criticised those who did this. But hey. Becky's other point is that aside from religions being the cause of so many wars, they give people false hope, i.e. there is no point in praying for things to change instead of making things happen yourslef. I see the point, actions do speak louder than words, but praying can be psychologically helpful when there's nothing you can do, and can keep you going even if you are doing something but just need some encouragement. It doesn't matter if noone's listening, it's the act itself which is useful. I pray every day in some form or other, but not in the place of action, and not on bended knee, palms pressed together. It's more a way of turning things over in my mind, some sort of meditation or affirmation, a way of encouraging myself. Rowers do it all the time when the pain bites in races ("please don't let me stop", is the oarsman's prayer), and it's my job as a cox to find the words for them. Maybe I'm just talking to myself and I'm crazy, but so are 6 billion other people on the planet if it comes to that!

I finally got back home on Sunday night, driving in Putney just as the hords were leaving the river after the annual Oxford and Cambridge Boat Race, and nearly drove straight into Dan Snow. Much the amusement of an ex-flatmate who used to work on BBC1's One Show in the days before they brought in the delicious young Mr Snow.  …or is that Dr Snow….I think he has a PhD. Anyway, I’ve fancied him since his days of rowing for Oxford, and I nearly rolled down the window and shouted ‘Oi, Dan, who won?’. I had to stop myself. I might have known who he is for 8 years, but he has no idea who I am. Anyway, the ex-flatmate also likes him, and thinks I should have kidnapped him and bought him home for her!

Monday was back at work, but straight onto a team building event, of which I was on the organising committee. It all worked really well, and the activities I’d booked for the Tuesday afternoon worked really well. They were all based around trust, teamwork and communication. We had to map read, problem solve, bridge build, direct blindfolded people without talking, just using bells and whistles, and paint a picture by Chinese whispers. It was all really good. My team won, having done pretty well on everything. I was really impressed with my team, especially with the guy that I work with on a daily basis who turned out to be an absolute genius in working out lock combinations and building catapults and bridges. All in all, I was really pleased, and kicking myself that I hadn’t organised any prizes for the winning team. DOH!

Back to work proper today, and a tower of job bags on the side of my desk that is threatening to topple and engulf me. I have raised it with my colleague as a health and safety issue, it seems there’s nothing for it but putting in some hard labour. Never mind. I’m feeling well and truly reinvigorated after my break, and I’ve just booked the 26^th June off for Hard Rock Calling. The Killers play Hyde Park. Yay. I’m feeling the need to go to some non-Killers gigs too. They’ve re-invigorated my love of music. I also just got the guitar tabs for Mr Brightside, so I can try to learn to play it, but I’m a bit confused, because really, all I want is the sheet music, and these tabs things seem like a cumbersome way of representing music. I also have to send the White Lies album to Becky, as she doesn’t know who they are. Her mate who was also there at the Religion argument lives next door to some chap called Ricky from the Kaiser Chiefs, so she says she’s going to ask him about White Lies. I think all three bands are awesome, and may be playing together sometime?? Or is that just wishful thinking on my part?

It’s all over, I now have serious PGD (post gig depression), but I think the extent of that (real wet tears rolling down my face) is a testament to how great these last two gigs were, and what a good time I’ve had. This blog is about the Barcelona and Madrid gigs.

Friday night in Barcelona after posting my previous blog, I was meant to meet up with the other victims, but they were running late and I was starving and cold so I ended up eating in tapas bar by the cathedral and then going back to my hotel, hoping there might be some party going down in the bar with the Louis XIV boys. Not much happening there. I was being updated about how the other victims were doing but they didn’t eat til late, and I guess I was sort of giving up on them. Victim HHH had missed everyone as well, so took a cab over to my hotel, where we got a few of the best caiprinhas I’ve ever had. At some point I heard the other victims were in a bar with some guys called Mark and Dave. I actually didn’t believe them, I think I was a bit drunk by this stage after having popped into numerous bars for a quick beer to warm up whilst I was wandering the streets waiting for them, then the caiprinhas, and after that we’d raided the minibar, so we were 3 sheets to the wind. Turns out it was true. Bugger. HHH and I ended up being chatted up by a pair of bonkers Swedish guys who knew all about Hunter S Thompson, (one of them was reading Fear and Loathing in Las Vegas), who were amazed that I knew the names of all four members of ABBA. Being Swedish they wanted us to get naked, but we politely declined. We made our excuses and left eventually, only to be seriously told off by angry lady on corridor for making too much noise. Oops.

Next day I drove early to the gig venue in Badalona. The address on the ticket was incorrect though. It said the venue was on Avenida d’Alfons XIII, so I went there. No venue….just a row of shops. But the sat nav did have an entry for Avenida d’Alfons XII as well, so thought I’d better try that, just in case. Turns out to be that one. Bloody stupid idea having two streets in the same part of town with such similar names. I must say that Barcelona is in general the worst place in the world to navigate around. There were roads and turnings my sat nav wanted me to make that just didn’t exist or were illegal. The one way system was a mare, and I had a deal of trouble just getting away from my hotel, as I couldn’t find a legal route out. Eventually I only got away by making an illegal U-turn across tram lines.

Anyway, I did finally make it to the place, and was shocked to discover loads of people there already at 11am. I’d been 3^rd in line getting to the London gig at that time. The Spanish are seriously early queuers, some had started at 5.30am. The other victims were a loop ahead of me so I could see them, and they came and held my place in line whilst I went to fetch my ski gear from the car. There was quite a strong and cold wind, and I was suffering the hangover chills. I slept most of the day with my ipod on, so didn’t notice the time going really. Then, all of a sudden, the panic set in, and everyone bunched up really tight, squishing us all in. We were like that for about 45 minutes, which was really unpleasant, as I couldn’t stand up straight for the pressure of bodies. Finally, when they started to let people in, I expected that the pressure would relieve to the front, but it didn’t, it actually got worse, and we were all carried forward on a surge. They were doing sensible crowd control at the front though, and allowed through 4 people at a time, to get their bags checked and get into the venue. I got myself a barrier spot, between the K and Dave, but couldn’t see any of the other victims. It turned out later that they’d all been separated during the surge and everyone had ended up in different places.

Guitar tuner man who’d I’d talked to at my hotel the previous day, again came out to a rapturous reception, and then Louis were on. I really enjoyed Louis this time. I guess I’m starting to know their songs now, and the Barca crowd went mad for them. Jason was really pleased, and told them that they were honestly the best crowd they’d played to all tour. Both band and crowd seemed to be really enjoying themselves, so all in all it was an excellent set. The girls around me liked the bearded guitarist’s hat, and at one point he feigned he was going throw it to them, but he kept hold at the apex of the throw and everyone laughed.

I had a bout of flu coming on, and was really missing my water during the interval. Venues really need to sort this out. If you take away people’s water, you need to then provide some in the intervals, or people will get ill. It’s no wonder people faint. I asked the security guy in front of me for some water, and he said he couldn’t give me any. I knew he had a 2 litre bottle stashed under the stage, they all did. Eventually I pulled out two Beechams cold and flu tablets and showed them to him and pleaded for some water. He relented and pulled out his bottle for me. The cries for water then came from everyone else, so then all the security guys started handing out their water. It was much appreciated, muchos gracias guys.

Then the main event: our beautiful boys. It all went a bit nuts with more crowd surges when they came on. This lot had been waiting a long time, and were determined to show their appreciation. I think the set list was the same one I heard at Milan, and that they seemed to have settled into. Dave threw me his guitar pick, but I’m rubbish at catching and it bounced off my hand onto the floor in front of the barrier. The security guard picked it up and gave it to another girl to my left L. Another girl to my right had a red rose in her hand, and Dave asked if it was for him and made to grabbing motion from the stage, it was rather cute.

Brandon got down on one the speaker boxes at one point and started touching all the hands reaching out to him, which I’ve not seen him do since RAH. They guys were enjoying themselves I think. More bouncing from Mark, and I noticed Tommy doing backing vocals for the first time. I couldn’t see anything of Ronnie except the top of his hair again for the monitor boxes. If only I was slightly taller I’d be able to see over them! My favourite bit was when Dave picked up his Fender Stratocastor, and Brandon said to him, ‘what you got in there Dave? What you got in there?’ and there’s a moment of anticipation before Dave picks out the first few bars of Mr B. Wonderfully done.

One song into the encore as I was bouncing about I noticed a girl just behind me who was a lot shorter than me as she couldn’t see anything, and it suddenly occurred to me that I had seen lots of gigs and she might not have seen any, so I grabbed her and pulled her to the barrier in front of me. She was so pleased, and we tried to get her friend in as well, but there wasn’t quite enough room for them both to squeeze in, so I stepped back and we managed to get them both squeezed sideways. I could still totally see as well as before, so I don’t see why tall people always want to be at the front. Anyway the girls were talking to me in Spanish, so I said ‘si inglese’ to them and patted my chest, so one of the girls translated, and said thank you very much and lovely to meet you, and then gave me the Spanish kisses, one on each cheek. It was great actually as we were singing along to The World We Live In, and I had my hands on the girls’ shoulders and we were all having a lovely international moment. As the crew were clearing the stage, I heard a whistle, and turned round, to see one of the crew flicking a plectrum to me…I missed it, again, couldn’t even see where it went. I’m such a rubbish catch…that’s why I row!

 After the gig it was pretty chaotic, and finding other victims was tricky. I bumped into Clare and gave her some haribo, then went outside to try and find the rest. I walked all the way around the venue, and spotted tour buses and crowds, but no mates. So off around the other way. Eventually we found each other, and H and I decide to go and sit on some steps and watch the fangirling from a distance. So we plonked ourselves on some steps by the buses and chatted with one of the bus drivers, who was really cool, but we failed to get him to make us a cup of tea, which I was dying for. Dave had been out doing some autographs, and then Mark came out, and was out for ages. As he walked back in, we yelled ‘Hi Mark’ and he looked over and waved. Then Ronnie came out, and spent about 20 minutes with fans, which was really nice of him. He didn’t hear us yell, ‘Hi Ronnie’.   Then Dave came out again, possibly due to the chanting by a group of lads ‘we love you Da-ave!’ He did lots of posing, and one girl even managed to hug and kiss him. He was being carefully followed by his publicist, possibly they’ve realised that he needs constant supervision? Possibly. Cos when we shouted ‘hello Dave’ instead of waving or ignoring us, he came over and asked laughing what we were doing there when we were supposed to be over the other side. I told him I’d lost my camera…I’d only just realised I’d left it attached to the barrier. (All those pics, all that video, and the Day & Age hotel ceiling, dammit). I was kinda hoping he might be able to get it found for me! Anyway, he came over for a photo with H’s camera, and plonked himself right down next to me on the steps. The publicist took the camera from H so she could come in the photo as well. I noticed Dave had a can in his hands and I thought at first it was a stubbie. I was about to joke about him getting in some training for Australia, when I turned the can in his hands (me, overly familiar…?) to see it was Sprite. Very rock and roll, i thought, where's the beer, nay, where's the Jack Daniels?   ... or was that just Guns n Roses?  It turns out poor Dave had crashed down from his mega post gig high with a bit of a jolt and was in need of a bit of assistance from a can of pop (If you look closely in the photo though, you can see it's Sprite Zero....DOH!!) He really is such a lovely fella though. It was like sitting next to an old friend, he’s so down to earth. He also had extremely tight 80s throwback jeans on, which didn’t leave much to the imagination. *cough* ...Be still my beating heart…and I had to wonder if the branpants thing is catching?

We thought we’d better head home after that, so we went to get the mighty astra, and drove past the fanmob again on the way to the pub I thought the other victims might have headed to. Still no Brandon, he was the only one not to have come out yet, and we wondered if he’s getting a little bit reclusive.

We had to get up really early to make it to Madrid. Two of us drove whilst the other Victims flew, and hardly anyone was in the queue by the time we arrived. That could have been due to the fact that there was more than one entrance, and everyone seemed to be at the other one. But security had said ours would open first. When it came to opening though, one of the doors was stuck, and so we started to panic a bit that the other entrance was open already. Eventually they opened a different door though and let us in. The advance security guard info had been to go to the right, but that was wrong, and by the time I went through the entrance I saw the first few victims running back the other way. Honestly that barrier run is always the worst part. I made it right next to one of the Spanish victims and was joined by a couple of others, again Dave’s side, I didn’t see much space on Mark’s side, but I think the others made it there.

Louis were excellent again, and then Ronnie popped out again to play guitar, and this time he sang too! Yay! Lots of love for Mr Vanucci. Then The Killers came on for the last time. The emotion, it was electric. I danced like a complete loon all the way through, despite having flu. Dave didn’t throw any plectrums my way again, probably realised by now that the lunatic little girl in front of him can’t catch! I had a better view of Ronnie on the drums than the previous night, and he was smashing the hell out of them. Then Ray, oh my God, Ray. He was jumping around like an idiot as well! You so don’t care what you look like when you dance when the guys on the stage are doing the same! More jumping up and down from Mark too, and Brandon was back and forth across the stage like a yoyo.

Afterwards all the victims went and sat on the steps near the buses, but some wanted food and we thought the guys would be a long time before coming out. I was now regretting not getting Mark and Ronnie’s signatures on my album cover in Barcelona when I had the chance instead of chilling on the steps watching everyone else do so. The consensus seemed to be to move for food though, so I reluctantly left, only to hear that the band were coming out two minutes later. So we went back, and I have to say I wasn’t prepared for the scene. The fanmob were all crowded around Brandon, between him and his bus. I could see Mark standing some way away on his own watching all of this, so I thought I’d go around and just ask him to sign my cover, but Brandon’s bodyguard wouldn’t let me pass. The next thing, there’s this lad in a t-shirt standing in front of me, and I moved to let him pass, he looks at me, and walks passed and goes for the bus whilst my brain works out that that was Brandon. I suddenly realise I’ve missed by chance for the Bransignature, and feebly call ‘oh, Brandon, Brandon’ after him, but I can’t blame him for escaping on to the bus, because the group of girls around the bus was frightening. They were banging on the windows and pressing up to them trying to see in. It was all too much, very scary. I’m not surprised Mr Flowers has become a bit reclusive. That was unpleasant, and actually just plain horrible. And it was a bitter end to a good night. We decided to leave then because we didn’t like what was going on, and didn’t want a part of it, or to add to the pressure of people.

Getting a drink late on a Sunday night in Madrid didn’t turn out to be the easiest of things. I was after a nice late night bar/club/drinking den such as you can find in London if you know where to go. We didn’t have a clue though, and I regretted not doing a spot of forward planning. So we ended up moping back to the hotel and retiring for the night. It was always going to be painful being the last gig, but I felt miserable that it was all over. It was even worse when I woke up, I was suffering with the flu, as a result of ignoring it yesterday and just dosing up with paracetamol and ibruprofen. I was on a real downer as well, I cried for an hour! This is just ridiculous. I called my Mum last night to wish her a Happy Mother’s Day, and she pointed out that if the fact that I couldn’t see my favourite band live again for a while was the worst thing I had to worry about then I was pretty lucky. She’s right of course, but it still doesn’t stop the post-gig comedown blues. It’s so ridiculous. This is JUST a band. This behaviour’s so unexplainable!

I could listen to the albums some more, but to be honest, they aren't a patch on the live performance, my sound system is crap and I'm so hungry for more. There were 30 odd songs in the running for Day & Age, the rest need an airing. This band are pretty prolific, but when it hits the spot, and is just your brand of heroin, you just can't get enough of a good thing. Will have to raid my brother's record collection again to see what jewels I may have missed. That and practice my guitar. Now...that's the first string, so that's E, that's F, that's G....hmmm, this is going to be slow......Guitar Hero is so much easier!!!

Barcelona 20^th March 2009-03-20

Well, this is weird. Am sitting in my hotel bar waiting for the rest of the Victims to tell me where we’re meeting for dinner. And just along the bar from me are Louis XIV and Mr Marth of saxophone fame. I said hello to the guitarist and guitar tuner who checked in at the same time as me, but I really don’t want to disturb people now they’re chilling out with a drink and their girlfriends.

Yesterday was an interesting day to be in France, and I hope no victims were held up by the strike action. Pretty much the whole of France was on strike, and marching through the streets protesting against the government. Yet again, I curse the fact that I have neglected to bring the cable to connect my camera to my laptop. The French do strikes like noone else in the world. It was like a bloody carnival. Each disgruntled group crowded in parade formation behind flatbed trucks with a band in each one, avec drum kit, guitars, vocalist and speakers. Sodding brilliant, …free entertainment! Being one of Thatcher’s children, I don’t generally have much sympathy for strikes, but apparently 80% of the French supported this one, and pretty much everyone joined in, including private sector workers.

After watching the strike, I moved on the Cannes, home of the international film festival. To give you victims over the pond and idea of what these places are like, Nice, where I stayed two nights ago is like the more sensible and rather more chic older sister of Vegas, whilst Cannes does Hollywood better than Hollywood, all the 1930s silver screen glamour, but without the pollution of Las Vegas. I went for a run along the sea front, which is a good way to see a place. Every so often there were cardboard cut outs of film characters with cut-out faces so you could have your photo taken in character. Very Blackpool.

Today I drove all the way down to Barcelona from Cannes. It’s a 400 mile journey, but not so bad if you have Haribo to keep you going. Again the scenery is stunning, and the first view of the snow-capped Pyrenees to the right, with sea to the left was magnificent. Eventually, the French system of toll booths every 10 miles started to wear a bit thin, especially in a right hand drive car. When I reached Barcelona, I found my hotel allright, but couldn’t find the bloody car park. Eventually I just pulled into to what looked like it, only to have some jobsworth tell me I couldn’t park there, not even to pop inside the hotel and ask where I should park. I was getting angry by this point, having driven round the block a good number of times and waited for ever at red lights when nothing was coming. Eventually I just pulled up in front of the hotel, and ran in to ask where to park. They gave me a map, but it still took me two goes to find it, and when I did, they wouldn’t open the gate, and the security guard made me reverse all the way back up the very long steep drive to check that I actually wanted the hotel. “Yes, I flipping well do”, I yell though the cloud of smoke my tyres have just thrown up. I end up screeching into a space in the car park, screaming just to vent my frustration, and then yelling ‘fucking, what’ at someone walking past looking to see what the fuss was about. Oh dear. I was still fuming when I got to the check in-desk, only to be joined by the lead guitarist from Louis XIV, as mentioned above. Oh my God, I hope they didn’t just see my display. Am such a diva! Calmed down now, had a shower and run a few errands, and Louis XIV and Mr Marth have headed off downtown in a cab.

Time for me to file this, and put my laptop away, and go sample the delights of Barcelona. I have it on good authority that Mr Vanucci has played guitar for Louis at more than one show now, so I’m hoping he’ll do it again tomorrow, as I accidentally deleted most of the footage I took of him from Milan. OOPS!

One other thing, I don’t think the Killers themselves are staying here, coz it’s only 4 star, but the ceiling is really made for the current idiom, and it’s a shame they’re not here to see it. It’s made up of lots of circles, of differing shades and sizes. Have photographed, and again must apologise for lack of camera to laptop communication.

Barcelona gig tomorrow. Tonight, The Victims hit Razzmatazz. Yay!

I’m currently sitting on a beach in Nice, watching the waves lap the pebble beach and thinking what a lovely 24 hours I’ve had. And it’s only Wednesday of the 1st week of my holiday, so I guess I’m still only ¼ of the way through my fortnight. RESULT!

Last night, The Killers played Milan, and it was awesome. I had gone for a wander from my hotel to get some lunch, al fresco, I’d planned, since it was a lovely day in Milan….rather warm for me, being English. The Milanese had different ideas though and were still wandering around in anoraks, and all the alfresco eateries were covered. I gave the whole thing up as a bad job and headed back to the hotel, grabbing a sandwich at the deli across the road, and drove to the venue. I was shocked how many people were already there when I arrived at 2. I knew I should have got there earlier, but in London queuing hadn’t made much difference, as it had all gone to pot when they’d open the gates and let everyone through at once, and in Sheffield and Manchester, hardly anyone had queued. I’d underestimated the pull of the band in Italy, and I wasn’t sure I’d make barrier. There were lots of entrances though, and I was directly behind one, even though some people who’d arrive earlier were between them. It got pretty cold by the time they opened the gates at about 6.45pm. I was wearing flipflops, but I least I had jeans on. Some people were in shorts. We heard the whole soundcheck, so it promised to be a very loud gig. The crowd outside were bopping away to the sounds of Joyride. Neat!!!

When the gates opened, the run from the gate into the venue was like an assault course. You had to cross the concourse to the steps, then run up all of the steps to the top, (about 50 or 60 steps) go through the entrance at the top of the seating area, and then come back down the stairs at the other side. The stairs I ran down came to a dead end, and I had to run along the bottom row of seats to get down to the floor. But the girls in front of me got stuck trying to get out of the end, and people were pouring down the next set of steps and already at the barrier. I legged it over the seats to the next row up, weedled my way into the line, down the steps….why can’t I go faster dammit….. and headed for the stage….the barrier was crammed in the middle, with a semicircle forming around it, 7 or 8 people deep, then I saw a gap to the left and ran headlong into the barrier, gasping for breath. Less than a second later, two more girls did exactly the same to the left of me. We’re all still breathing hard, but we made it….phew!

The chap who appeared to the right of me used to live in London, so we chatted a bit. He had a big pink banner which read ‘Indie Rock and Roll!’. It wasn’t going to change the setlist, but it was fun. Haven’t used banners since went to support the GB rowing team at the 2004 Olympics and we hung Union Jack flags over the last 10m of the course. It looks good from the other side, and I’d never thought of doing it at a gig. I think the jobsworths in Britain would have a problem with it. Not so here. God bless Italy!

I have to say that the Italian security guards are really very nice. They took people’s bags and stashed them behind the barrier, underneath and between the standing platforms. They had a lot of work to do as well, as people started fainting…in droves. Well before a note was played, four girls had been carried off in the arms of one particular security guard, who seemed to be relishing his job. This continued all through the gig, and at one point a guy was carried out the same way…that didn’t look so cool! It must have been heaving in the middle of the barrier. They all came back one by one, brandishing lollipops, to collect their bags. I hope they got to sit somewhere and didn’t miss the gig entirely.

 A couple of guys near me started smoking and it made me cough and wheeze. I have asthma, but it usually doesn’t trouble me much, especially since smoking was banned in pubs in England. I started to worry as I didn’t want to have to get pulled over the barrier to seek medical attention, and I didn’t have my inhaler with me – I just so rarely need it, it’s not something I think about. Luckily the smokers were noticed and told the venue was no smoking. Plus the guy standing next to me told them it was making me ill, which was very chivalrous of him. They did light up again late on later on though. I’m surprised they felt it was ok. Very selfish. Wear a bloody patch if you can’t go a few hours without a fag, I don’t want to die of an asthma attack like my aunt did due to egocentric idiots smoking near her.

Anyway, rant over,…..the gig:

The crowd was cool and well up for a party. Before Louis XIV came on, people were just chattering and getting to know their neighbours. Then Bohemian Rhapsody began in the background, and the whole auditorium joined in. Class! I hope the band heard that!

Louis XIV didn’t actually come on until 8.45pm. It was clearly going to be a late one. The drive from Munich would have been a long one, and sound check had been late too. They were better than I’d remembered them. And funny, the lead singer kept telling the crowd that they were Louis Quatorz, …..now my Italian is non-existent….but I think that’s wrong?! They were back on the vino, couldn’t see if it was Blossom Hill again…surely they’ve picked up something better on their travels…one would think! Their set got a great reception form the Italian crowd, but the penultimate song included a very special man assisting with some guitar…..only one Mr Ronnie Vannucci! When I got over the shock, I started videoing it, and have the whole thing recorded. I’m so sorry that I forgot to bring my cable to rip it from my camera! It’s killing me too!

Then they played the last song, and the roadies all started their flurry of activity to ready the stage for our lovely boys. More people being pulled over the barrier all the time, and it was all being filmed by All Music TV. Anyone who knows where that shows, please let us know, I’m sure we’d all love to see it. They had a series of cameras and filmed the whole gig. Even yours truly got filmed a few times. Dancing like a nutter, well, as much as I could given the constraints of the bodies around me, and my current unfit cardiovascular system. Am going for a run tomorrow, promise.

The main event, the lights dim, the countdown begins. When Dave led the way on stage, the arena exploded as one by one the guys came into view. They started with Human, which has been a good opener at all the shows, then Brandon said a whole load of stuff in Italian. Mighty impressive, and very well received by the crowd. I’ve not the foggiest what he said, but I’m sure someone else will post about that.

I tried my hardest to get a set list to help jog my memory when it came to this, but none of the roadies or security were having any of it.

But there was definitely (not in order):

Human, Shadowplay -much to the delight of the chivalrous guy to my right… his favourite!, SLYMI, Bling (–fast becoming my favourite live, apart from WYWY), Joyride, Mr B – cue crowd going BONKERS, and lots of film crew excitement trying to catch it all, Spaceman, Dustland (–the band ‘at their most adventurous’ says Mr Flowers), I Can’t Stay, STM, Sam’s Town (acoustic), Reasons, TIYL, ATTTID

 Encore: Bones, Jenny, The World We Live In, WYWY   (yeay, yeay, yeay, thank you!!!!!)

No Neon Tiger, it was the only thing from the usual D&A songs missing. It seemed like a really good long set, even though I was enjoying every minute of it. I think I was drinking it in and really savouring it. The Italian crowd were loving it, all on their feet dancing in the seated area, and they were all really nice. I felt totally welcome, and noone thought it was odd that I’d come all this way on my own to see the gig. They all thought it was pretty cool. I have to say this gig was better than I any I saw in the UK. But then, I always think that each gig I see was better than the last, or maybe our guys just keep on getting better. They definitely fed off the crowd, and this crowd was well up for it with Latin spirit in bucket loads. And at one point, Brandon said, ‘we may be from Las Vegas, but tonight, our hearts belong to Milan’ …the crowd goes wild.

I couldn’t see Mark very well during the set as I was way over Dave’s side, but I did see him jumping around quite a lot. He seemed to be enjoying himself more than usual. And he came nearer the front than I’ve seen him before. He even got on a monitor box and jumped off again a la Dave.

Ronnie, as ever, was a legend. I love how that man just throws himself into his drumming, he’s captivating to watch. Next time I need to adjust my barrier position slightly to the right so I can see him properly between the monitors.

Brandon had quite a big bulge going on in the front trouser department. I wonder if he’s padding it? Those jeans are so damn tight!

And Dave, I had my best view of Dave, and he was milking the camera being on him! It was funny to watch, he was doing all the guitar moves. And when Brandon tried to get everyone’s arms swaying during This is your life, Dave tilted his guitar the same to get the other side of the hall going.

I could honestly have listened all night, but it was really late by the time the encore was over. It took ages to file everyone out so I watched the roadies dismantle the set for a bit. They work so hard and so fast. All boxed up, back on trucks in minimum amount of time so they can hit the road and get some kip.

When I left, everyone else turned right, but I turned left, I wanted to know how many trucks it takes to put this sort of show on the road, and Iäd been discussing it with other victims, who had sworn it was more than I'd thought after I'd seen 3 trucks for Coldplay at War Child.   So, I wandered around the side of the building, and found myself on a balcony overlooking the bus and truck area…wow, how many buses does one band need? I counted 6…guess they have a lot of crew these days. I think there were 7 lorries too, not counting the ones I saw around the other side later on ..or they could've been the same ones... I took a whole load of pics, and had a peek through an open door, which was labelled up for the film crew. (Am so nosey honestly. I was one of those kids that never wants to go to bed in case I miss something!) Nothing of interest inside, aside from a bit of warmth for my naked toes,  so I sat on the steps for a bit and watched a group of victims gathering outside. The gate was open, but they stayed outside. Eventually I saw someone Dave-shaped walking past the victims and they all filed inside, then he walked away with some people in tow. I ran down the steps to try and catch him up, but there was no sign of him when I got to the gate.  :-(

So I parked myself down next to the other victims. Then the security asked us to wait outside, only to pull us back in again a few seconds later. Dave walked by….. and didn’t come over!….all the girls were asking if Brandon was coming out, and Dave seemed a bit peeved and…… (I’m writing this in a hotel bar now, and Human has just come on! :-)) …..back to Dave: he just raised his hand with his back to us, and called out, ‘I’m not Brandon!’   

It must get really tiring when all the girls just want Brandon, but that's not me and I wasn’t having any of it, so I yelled out, ‘No, you’re Dave’, …he turned to come back, ‘and you’re a guitar god!’ …He came over! Looking surprised...or maybe embarrassed..or maybe slightly a little bit pleased at my guitar god comment! He was carrying a beer, and started asking what he was going to do with it, ....I would have offered to keep it ‘safe’ (not! I was gasping for a drink) but he noticed a little concrete pillar, and said, ‘I’ll just set this down here, then it’ll be safe’. Darn, foiled again in my dastardly plan to drink men’s beer. (It’s plus points if the man is a rock star). …So, people started asking Dave to sign album covers, but noone had a pen. I was crouched down on the floor next Dave rooting through my bag, and when Dave asked for a black pen, I gave him the first one I found, a black biro. Then I found what I was actually looking for, my album, and my Sharpie pen. Dave was complaining the pen I’d given him didn’t work, so I held up the Sharpie. ‘Ah, a Sharpie’, he says, ‘this is what you need’. He signed one of the girl’s albums across the moon, glad he was the first to get to it as the moon is the best bit, apparently. One of the Italian girls, who’d been showing me her battle scars….bruises all over her hips from being 3 rows back in the middle, asked me to ask Dave if Brandon was coming out, because 'you have the English'.  I told her I wasn’t going to ask that because it was rude…..he’d already been ready to walk by because he knew all the girls just wanted Brandon. I wasn’t going to add to that. There are four guys in this band, not one. Anyway, Dave turns to me, (he’s been standing by me all this time), and I asked him to sign my D&A album on his page. Then I asked him to wait, as I had one more thing for him. I pulled out a rectangle of tissue paper, which is part of my best friend’s dining room light fitting back in Frankfurt. I’ll post up the pictures when I get back so you can see what I mean. (EDIT...due to lost camera this is no longer possible, but it's a bloody great work of art with hundreds of pieces of paper hanging from it with quotes from Buddha, poems and cartoons etc.)

I gave the paper to Dave and asked him to draw me a picture. He sagged, closed his eyes and was looking really deflated. I’m guessing art not his strong point at school? Or he was really fagged off, and wanted to get back to his party. But I pleaded it was for my friend’s light fitting…not sure what he made of that! Anyway, he drew a stickman with big curly hair. I knew it was him, but I said, ‘oh, that’s her’, joshing him. He said, ‘no, it’s me, it’s a self-portrait’. He tried to give it back to me, but I said, ‘no, you have to sign it’, I think I was annoying him a bit now, and he wanted to get back to his beer, so I said ‘I don’t want much do I?’ taking the piss out of myself. So he signed his name across the top, and handed me back the paper, and the Sharpie. I got a bit of touch of his hand in the exchange *swoon*. He’s really very sweet. Think I may have a bit of a crush developing there.

I left after that. I was cold and Dave is fast becoming my favourite Killer, so I couldn’t be arsed to wait around for anyone else! On the way to the car, all the t-shirt sellers were taking down their stalls, and one fella started shouting. ‘hey, chica, chica’, at me. Then another guy said something similar, so they all got a smile. You have to love the Italians. In England all you get is ‘ere, get your knickers off luv’, it’s not quite the same!

Back to the hotel, and I’m wired. It was hours before I fell asleep. Consequently I slept until midday, and finally checked out of my hotel at 1pm. Tonight, I’m staying in Nice, and the drive here was very pleasant. Nice is stunning, warm, it’s 21 degrees, just perfect, palm trees, the sea, lots of light, and beautiful architecture: Everything from medieval to art deco, to the occasional stunning modern building. I’m so glad I chose this route, even if it meant missing two Killers gigs, and you know how I love them! I continue along the French Riviera tomorrow, and am not sure yet (at 7.30pm) where I’ll stop tomorrow. But Marseilles might be a good place, or possibly Perpignon, near the Spanish border. Location of Dracula’s real tomb according to the latest vampire book I read (The Historian). Might be worth a stop to get a little glimpse of vampire lore. Tune in tomorrow for another exciting instalment! For now, I have a 3 course meal to eat in a gorgeous French restaurant overlooking the Med and a half bottle of claret to get through. Sometimes life is so tough, I don’t know how I cope….
 

So, 'tis Monday, and I failed completely to get a last minute ticket for Munich. Nevermind, that meant I got chance for a lie in at the luxury Bauhaus that is my best friend's home. We had a late night last night, sadly no Killers showed up at the door looking for their share of rack of lamb. :-(

...So we retired to the basement home cinema to watch 21 grams.  I thought I hadn't seen it, but then realised that I had, but it made more sense second time around.  It's a disturbing film though and I couldn't sleep after that. I think I was aware that the subject matter had upset Becki and her husband somewhat, as they've always been scared of losing their children in a car accident.  Anyway, I was awake half the night, so was comatosed when the kids came in at 8.15 to tell me they had to go to school and they wanted to say goodbye. I was really impressed with the children. I hadn't seen them for nearly two years, as they were with the grandparents the last time I saw Becki and Marcus. They seem so grown up now. The are 11 and 9, but the 9 year old is so mature and the 11 year old is already a young woman. It's really very scary. It;s true children do grow up too fast. It's not fast enough when you are one, but watching it is ridiculous.

A bunch of electricians arrived after that to fix the lights, the new house still has some snagging problems. Good thing they were there because I had forced by electric toothbrush
charger into the plug socket and got it stuck. I nearly pulled the wall apart trying to get it out again. Oh, God, I broke my best  friend's new house! The guy fixed it, and told me not to do that again!

We went off for lunch in a really nice local reastaurant, and as we were shown to our table, Human started playing on the restaurant's audio system. RESULT. Becki says, 'they're playing your song!'. My God, I'm so in love with this band. It makes my day when I hear them unexpectedly.

I got on the road to Milan after lunch. It's a 7 hour drive, but I'm stocked up with water, haribo and an ipod filled with music that is both mine and my brother's. i.e. I know some of it, and other stuff is utterly alien, but always an education.

The first half of the journey was through Germany, on the autobahn, nice and fast, and accompanied by Snow Patrol, U2 and Elastica. Then I arrived at the Swiss border, where I was fleeced for €30 for the honour of driving on their roads. Wouldn't have minded, but they gave me the change, not in euros, but in bloody swiss francs, as if they are any use anywhere. Nice roads though.

When I stopped to get petrol, I was approached by a couple of young lads who were hitchhiking to Bologne. At first said that I was unsure about giving them a lift as I was a lone female, and letting 2 boys get in my car seems a bit stupid. They said they understood, so I went in to pay for my petrol. But I've hitchhiked before with my ex boyfriend through Spain and Portugal, and I really thougt that I would like to give them a lift. I know it's not sensible. Actually,  it's a bit of a risk to be honestbut it's 99.99% certain they are nice people . I spoke to the boys a bit more though, and it turned out that they were only 19, from Amsterdam, and were trying to get to get to one of their uncles in the south of Italy. I relented, and said they come jump in, if they paid the tolls.  They were very grateful, and I was glad to have them along in the end, as my ipod ran out of juice about 10 minutes after we set off again. One of them turned out to be a musician, playing keyboard and guitar, and so we talked music the whole way to Milan. It was funny, he knew about The Killers, but thought they had only been around for a few months. He hadn't put the different albums together as being the same band, even though he knew the songs. I could relate to that. After all, I didn't realise who The Killers were until WYWY came out, and I was surprised at that point to realise that this rock band that twanged my soul so strongly were the same group who'd made Indie music I'd loved two years before. There was so much similar music around though, they hadn't stood out for me as an Idie band, but they did as a rock band.

Anyway, the crazy dutch lads had made Milan their goal for the day, and I was able to take them all the way there. I dropped them by the youth hostel, and we got photos, them of the nice English lass who'd taken pity on them, me of the crazy dutch younglings who might grace the music scene in 10 years time.

After that, I found my hotel, and have just been for the most enormous quatro stagione pizza in the world. (I feel FAT!) The band have finished playing in Munich, and soon the boys will be heading over the same beautiful and snowy mountains I have just crossed, to come and play for Milan, et amis tomorrow evening.
 

I stayed up really late on Friday night watching Comic Relief which was really not as funny as it used to be, which was a shame. I had gone into work dressed as Supergirl, so rang through my contribution, and they made a record amount of money, but still, could've been funnier......or maybe I'm getting old! Anyway, as a result I only got 3 hours sleep before I had to get up to drive to my ferry for the channel crossing. It took only 90 minutes from SW London, and no queues at Dover....amazing.  I had a quick kip on the boat and bought some haribo to keep me going on the drive the other side. Arrived in Calais, then straight on the motorway, through that corner of France and straight into Belgium.....around Brussels...had a nightmare getting petrol as the pay machine only spoke Flemish!

On through the rest of Belgium, into the Netherlands , and then into Germany -hmm, that's 5 countries in 5 hours! I love Europe!

I've never driven through Germany before, and it's stunningly beautiful. It reminded me in parts of the wooded mountains around Tahoe. Just perfect, with the autobahn crossing from mountain to mountain on a series of viaducts. The only problem is that there is a commonly held belief that there is no speed restriction on the autobahn, but this is only true in parts. On the part I was on, it was unrestricted on the land and then restricted....hugely restricted, on the viaducts due to the likelihood of high winds. So I kept pushing the trusty Astra up to over 100 mph, only to suddenly have to slow to about 50mph. I think I broke a few laws! oops.

I arrived at my best mate's house in Friedrichsdorf at 4.30pm, local time, which was very good.....and got my first glimpse of the house she and her husband have built. WOW!!!!  It's a white bauhäus style house, with the front very clean with very small windows so noone can see in. But at the back it overlooks a huge garden and forest, and so the back has HUGE windows. They have a window made with the largest pane of glass that can be manufactured in Germany. It is utterly staggering. I tried to get them to go on Grand Designs (UK TV show about architecture) when they were doing the build, but they thought it would be stressful having a film crew around. But this is one of those houses. Just amazing. Even a home cinema in the basement, a wine cellar I'm mightily impressed with, and a fussball table in the kids' playroom.  I'm in heaven.  My room is ace. It's like a 5* hotel, only just with your mates. I have to say, I'm sorely tempted to stay right here for a week! Can the Killers tempt me away?   Hmm. Well, I'm due to leave for Milan tomorrow. So watch this space. I'm quite enamoured with living the rock star dream in this place.  Hmm.....the boys are in Germany and having a night off tonight.  They have to come passed here to get to Munich for tomorrow. Maybe they'd like to come around for dinner!! I bet even a rock band would have trouble getting through this much wine.....then again Louis XIV who are touring with them could probably see off a few crates without trying very hard. :-)