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it must be a "going to see
radiohead" thing.
so anyway, one day i took a rock’n’roll
vacation abroad from la la land. radiohead were playing one of
their continental summer holiday tours. it was a trip worth saving for, a luxury holiday
for any music fan.
how long did it take me to pack, laze, unpack, lose
things, pack, snack, unpack, find things, pack, soothe a bad dream from a baby angel,
unpack, wash, dress and pack? well, in total - eleven hours!
my friend, captain claw of the starship faithful also lives in rocklands,
and kindly drove me from my tree-house to luton airport at 4am. as we sped up the m1
motorway, the moon faded into the coming dawn. the journey seemed over quickly and next
thing i know i was blowing the captain a goodbye kiss as he sped away...
turning to check in, i looked for my itinerary
which contained my reference number to fly and a list of places to stay... only i’d
forgotten it all, my mobile phone. (drat!) at least i had my shades (oh, and my passport)
i remember taking 7 hours to pack for glastonbury
‘97, then leaving without my ticket!. it must be a "going to see radiohead"
thing, i thought to myself, as sudden discomfort in my leg added a comedy walk to
proceedings. i decided not to drink alcohol on the plane in case i got thrombosis. i also
made a mental note not to get stoned when packing in future. (actually, as the flight was
at 6.40am, it was probably not a good idea to drink alcohol yet...)
as a deep red ball of fire rose in a peach-misty
sky, so did i. high above planet water for my favourite view of paradise in all it’s
glory. i twinge of re-panic evaporated when i mused that there are thousands of sound
people to be found at radiohead gigs and no matter what the next ten days held in store,
it was an adventure worth taking.
i hadn’t slept since sunday night and it was
now tuesday, i needed to stay alert until i’d found somewhere to stay. the gig would
have no problems holding my attention. each radiohead gig i’ve ever seen has been a
unique thrill...
...many hours later, through thick clouds to grey
skies in a strange and gorgeous place that was very green with mountainous hills that
climbed back into the clouds, we had landed at san sebastian in the beautiful basque
country. i was reminded very much of wales.
a short walk with a warm shower of rain to the
terminal where the accommodation agent tried in vain for half an hour to find me somewhere
to stay - with no luck.
admitting defeat i caught the bus (cheap as chips
for 20km ride!) into donostia through lush green vegetation, stunning views, small towns
unruined by the vile billboard vandalism of the modern world. un-apathetic protest banners
from nearly every house in one town united in opinion about something (my spanish is too
shameful to know what). as radiohead are not an apathetic group of people, it set the tone
of the trip nicely.
 the bus arrived under a dark grey sky in
the early evening. it was a place from a dream. i saw a surreal giant cube by the sea, the
venue that radiohead would later play at, so decided to start my bed-for-the-night search
near there. i was aware of an urgency to find somewhere, get washed and changed, leave my
bags and collect a ticket in time not to miss one single note!
it didn’t go well. i trudged the streets of
donostia for ages, finding only "completo" (full) signs everywhere that i tried.
i noticed another local tongue with lots of 'x' and 't' in it. dual language signs like in
wales.
my bags were becoming increasingly heavy and the
muscle pulling my leg made walking hard. time was passing.
the steamy weather which made the plants so green
and the flowers so bright was making me wearier than over 30 hours awake was already
doing. i realised that at 8pm i’d have to return to the venue - a limping, sweaty
mess, loaded with luggage. oh great!
why had i left that list behind i wailed silently
to myself. i wished for some relief, a cooling shower...
i got my wish. it started to rain a bit.
then it started to rain a lot.
then it fuggin pissed down and i was immediately
completely soaked like i’d had a bucket of water thrown over me. i tried to shut out
the words "rain down on me... from a great height..." which sang
themselves mockingly to me inside my head.
my trudging was now pathetically tragic. vision was
just a blurry grey mist. sleeping on the beach no longer an option. i looked like i’d
fallen in the sea. i realised i’d probably not get into the show in such a state.
just before tears joined the water pouring down my
face, i spied the red lettering of a hotel among the grey tones and took it as "a
sign".
with purpose, i comedy hobbled to it’s
reception. nice hotel, above my budget, but they had a room. my emergency money (i.e.
spain = shoes!) saved the day. the staff politely mopped up the puddles that i left all
over reception, bless ‘em.
oh the joy of putting my bags down, of having a bed
for the night, of showering... then getting DRY!
my spirits lifted like they were filled with
helium, the hot water and a massage soothed my leg, the hairdryer (nearly) dried my
jacket. i was ready to rock after my long journey.
revived, it was ten minutes back to the venue (it
had stopped raining) and as soon as i got there i was among friends.
 i collected my ticket, entered the
amazing space that is the kursaal and celebrated my high spirits with vodka at the bar.
due to
the large measure, and not eating, i was soon a little drunk as well as on a natural high
of excitement.
this was an intimate venue for
radiohead, 2 or 3 thousand people? couldn’t tell cos the auditorium banked steeply
into darkness. it was the closest i’d been to them at a gig, i was over excited... |
