A DAY ON THE ROAD...
Saturday, August 1st, 1998



Hiya,

Yeah misadventures... Today kinda was one. All set to finally fly out of London onto the next leg of the tour. Off to Portugal on a 16:45 flight.

Lee and Carolyn had trained in down from Edinburgh late the night before, Carylon had missed the opening night of a play she got a weeks choreography work for....Al flew back in from the States where he had been hanging out with his family for 6 days, and I finally get to leave the house that has been driving me crazy with racist yuppie Australians (nice house though).....

So...

Meet in XXXXX’s little flat in Chelsea - £10 pounds for the cab - way to much luggage all of a sudden (London shopping). Once in the tiny little flat - 4 people all packing and unpacking, swapping, sorting, storing and organsing luggage, only room for one suitcase to be open at a time in a shoebox sized room with way to much ornate and expensive furniture. A series of forms to fill out post, scrunched into the corner on an Edwardian sideboard with cheap hotel pens. Last minute phonecalls, discussions as to logistics, gear delivery, further bookings, gig scheduling and then, the cab is here.

Off to Stanstead – let that name fill you with a resounding dread...

... an airport in the middle of nowhere - ultra cheap tickets booked by our promoter and picked up late yesterday. The Cab will cost us an estimated £55 poiunds (a la FrankNfurter) but we have a station wagons full of luggage (two tents and 1 sleeping bag now - still need 3 more. The train would cost us 44 pounds each for some obscure reason – having to book return tickets or some-such so - cab it is; and the journey is a nightmare.

Almost 4 hours on the road: twisty, slow moving inner London deadlocked traffic, diversions, blockages and chaos before finally escaping onto the motorway.

Out into the misty green and ribbons of endless grey of the English motorway system - it starts pouring and we slow right down. Time is not on our side but our driver is amiable and Al starts widgying on the funky lil red k'brd, then - traffic jam on the motorway. Traffic stops, slows to a crawl - crawl along 10 metres, stop, 20 metres, stop, for 45 minutes - oh shit the turnoff (finally) is closed. Traffic cops in bright lime green rain gear and long rows of traffic cones seen through the misted up windows of our overcrowded little bubble. Still belting down - drive to next turnoff and stop for a quick Dan & Alex bladder relief aaaaaahhhhh......back into the cab - direction confusion - our driver has only a rough idea of where the Airport is, maps consulted, directions argued about - caught in the cloverleaf...

Back down the motorway (we think this is what the cop meant) back onto the off ramp from the other way now. Lucky we left so early.

Finally we arrive at a weird looking squat white steel and glass thing in the middle of nowhere.

Phew!

Now we hassle and haggle with the poor cab driver who is exhausted and over it. Fine - £60. In the terminal now - 45 minutes till flight time, relief as the realisation dawns that we will make our flight. But still some urgency remains – we still have some hurdles to clear before lift off. Daniel finds the equipment and tents left in deposited luggage by our promoter - another $6 pounds to release, Jeezus. Now to the check out counter and ....

I’m sorry, your flight is tomorrow, see here it says the 2nd of August.

Stunned silence...

We run through in our minds for a second the trials and tribulations of getting here and the implications of having to do it all over again tomorrow, not to mention the necessity of organising accommodation again for tonight, notifying promoters, storing baggage again etc...

Fury mounts as we all realise that we could have had another day in our varying places to finish what we were doing before getting here. Our bloody tour booker!!!! AAAAARRRRRGGGGHHHHH!!!!!

Anyway, I'm now sitting in a nice place having battled the whole day. A friends flat in Islington - Cindi, a funky and inspiring woman I met through the R.T.S network, she works with N.G.O’s on various environmental causes and has an awesome music collection. A nice flat with a large lounge room we can make ourselves at home in, in this anonymous estate type block. Also It was good seeing Al again and trekking around London on Buses and foot trying to find this place. A spliff, some good sounds and a few cups of tea and we’re starting to feel human again - even talk of going out soon...

Just a blurt to give you an idea of a less than wonderful Juju day.

I have to go now,

"BBC radio four, the news at 11 o'clock - beep, beep beep'.

>>>>>sirens in the distance and the smell of Pizza...



lotsa love,

daniel