T in the Park Day 1

We wake up at about 7.30 – to the noise of the T-in-the-parkers who have already started. Seriously. There are people already drinking cans of Tennents(Hence the T in T in the park). The first thing you need when you wake up in a very hot tent with a hangover is a good drink of water, but unfortunately no one took my adivse to fill the water bottle last night. Opting that “I told you so” wasn't a good solution, I found that it was I and Luke – the hunter gatherers – who stood in the water queue for an hour and half. Everyone is thirsty – everyone is hungry – everyone is hungover – I want a coffee. Not a good start – we kind of laugh it up and put a smile on. Theres basically nothing we can do. When we finally get to the end of the queue we discover that the water pressure is such that there is no way we are getting much more than 4 litres in 20 mins of holding the tap. It's enough for our needs anyway.

Finally after some espresso – some fry up – more espresso – and a bacon roll – its time for the off. I actually enjoy the feeling of packing my rucksack with water for the day ahead – feeling like we are off on an adventure. One can of T has been left from last night in the cool box surrounded by ice. It may be the last cold can in a mile's radius for the next three days, so I feel compelled to take advantage of it. Even if it is only midday.

With this we march off on our new adventure, backpack and can of T in hand.

When we get close to the gate, we realise that everyone in the campsite has had the same idea as us; They want to go to T in the park as well. This comes as a surprise to some of the crowd. After retrieving wristbands for the remaining wrists we join the masses in a line to the gate. Although I'm up – the heat – the hangovers – the joys of camping – and the fact that theres other people at T in the park starts getting to some people. I'm determined to rise above it and enjoy myself – much to the annoyance(I suspect) of some of the rest of the party. The crowd are hungover as well. They are trying to stay up – but the hangovers, the heat, and the sellotape holding the bottles of alcohol to the inside of kilted and skirted legs are putting a damper on things. Theres a few attempts to get a rousing chorus of “Flower of Scotland” - the people's anthem, but nationalism is at a low at the moment. People are more concerned with calling for the fence to come down and shouting at the security. Eventually the crowd starts slowly chugging through. Theres the usual security to make sure people aren't taking in glass bottles or cans – I'm never sure if this is to ensure that proceeds from the bars are kept to a maximum, or to ensure that the man who was in Busted is not knocked out by an over zealous fan of alternative music.

Even arriving in the park feels good again – you know that everyone is here to party and have fun. My water supply for the day has been depleted in the queue, so we start by topping this up. Luckily we didn't need to use my first aid kit or mountain whistle, but should any band decode to play at the top of a munro – I'll be ready.

Since there are no band's which I/we am immediately interested in, we decide to go up the ferris wheel to check the lie of the land. I'm most interested in doing this to get a photo for the blog.









Thats Joss Stone you can see on the main stage from the bog wheel. There are still people flooding in. I later think it would have been a good idea to get up there when there was a big band on, but I'm not that keen. After the ferris wheel – it's time for food. The food stall's at festivals are wonderful – you have almost every cuisine represented and served from small chip van like structure. I opt for Vegitarian, on the theory that more effort has went into making it tasty – my theory is wrong.

Now is the start of the bands. It's a really hot day. The girls are all sitting on the grass refusing to move. I'm toying with going to see Audioslave.

I LOVED Soundgarden. No Seattle grunge can do wrong in my opinion. In terms of Chris Cornell solo efforts, "seasons" from the singles soundtrack was wonderful.(I would have loved a full album exploring this facet of what he did.) Temple of a Dog goes down as one of the greatest side project/tribute albums/bands of all time. Euphoria Morning(post-Soundgarden solo album), took me a while to get into, its not a wonderfully strong album, but is worth a listen..

Rage against the machine – I quite like, The first album is a classic in my opinion. After that – I can take them or leave them – but I have a lot of respect for them. Audioslave – I can take or leave. I find the melodies a bit obvious – cheap almost – theres not enough of the hooks which make me love Soundgarden and rage against the machine – but I respect them and give them a chance.

Initially, I considered not going to Audioslave. Everyone sitting doing nothing on the grass was bringing me down, and I didn't think it was the right mood to go and see musicians you like play songs you don't really feel, then I remembered that this was Chris Cornell. This man sang Jesus Christ Pose. This man wrote, sand and played on temple of the dog. This man sang and wrote burden in my hand. This man is good mates with Pearl Jam. This man wrote and sang seasons from the Singles Soundtrack. Theres no way I'm not going to see him.

Luke Skye-Trekker comes along with me. I think he's ready to see a band(We've been in the venue about 2 hours).

So – we wait around in the crowd. Quite near the front, cos as I know better than most people that Seattle grunge was never that popular in Scotland. Pearl Jam's Glasgow concert sold out in minutes in 2000, but this is more of a cross section of Scotland – some not even music lovers– which makes it more interesting. It feels good to be standing in a crowd again – waiting for the band to come on. The suspense is wonderful – it's not like going to a one off concert – this is much more different. You are more carefree about seeing bands, cos they are never the be all and end all of a weekend. I'm wondering how much I will enjoy Audioslave. After a few songs the novelty of who these people are will probably wear off – but if the manage to keep the energy up – i will probably enjoy it.

Out the come – and that sound which sounds like a ruler being played with on a school desk tells us that they are opening with Cochise – Audioslave's first single, and in my opinion, they're only great song. Its emense – the crowd, including me, go wild – not only am I seeing Chris Cornell, and Tom Morello for the first time – I'm seeing a band of the quality of Led Zeppelin. It really makes a difference – this is one stogn sound – you can describe the feeling you get, but you know that while I'm going to listening to British indy rock bands all weekend – it's a rarity to find such a high quality band.

Cochise – The only truly good song by Audioslave. The silly buggers have started with a climax. They can only go down hill from here. Setlist suicide – if you open with your best song – you better have some high quality stuff planned for a follow up. They can't do it – no way.

What happened next cannot be described in words. I have jokingly shouted “Jesus Chirst Pose”(An old Soundgarden song) a few times. The good news is people joined in. I never expected that follow such a high start as Cochise they would go higher.

With the opening riff, I come close to fainting:

SPOONMAN

If you don't know I can't describe – very rocking – very good soundgarden song, which because of it's easy – but wonderful sounding riff – I play on the guitar every time I test that my dropped D tuning is close-ish. Its amazing – different from Soundgarden – but still very powerful. The crowd go wild – I'm chuffed to bits. The crowd still understand good music when they hear it. There's come young people singing along etc. Scotland's music taste is doing okay while I'm away. Okay – It's spoonman – a single, and on MTV quite a lot. Lets see them go wild for Outshined or something. But I'm so high on adrenalin.

These guys are pros – we now get like a stone. If they'd opened with that – I would have sang along, not that interested, but given the hit of music they have just given me, it has suddenly become a deep meaningful song that the whole crowd sings with all it's heart.

We then get a few Audioslave songs, including the one form the new album which opens with a G and then A(I think – same interval), and I can't listen to without wanting to sing Hey hey hey hey as it sounds like “Don't you forget about me” by Simple minds.

Tom Morello is wonderful. I loved his stuff – he is out there on his own – one of the few people who are still innovators. Luke – not a guitarist – several times asks me how he makes certain sounds. The truth is, I have no idea.

Eventually they get onto doing Bulls on parade. Chris Cornell leaves the stage, respecting that this is his time – either that or he needed a piss. Chris cornell can hold his own on the guitar – but seems to have decided on keep it in it's case for this project. Every person in the crowd is bouncing. They are just phenomenal. I wish Audioslave were more like this. Tom Morello encourages the whole crowd to put a fist in the air. His guitar says “Arm the Homeless”

Chris Cornell comes back on – to do some more Audioslave and introduce the band. The largest cheers comes when he announces that the Bass player is of Scottish stock on both sides of his family. We're such a cheap crowd – say Scotland and we cheer. He tells to keep our chin up concerning the bombings in London.



Chris Cornell comes out on his own – wearing a 12 string guitar – and does a wonderful rendition of Black hole sun, including getting the whole crowd to sing the outro repeatedly about 20 times in a row. This is real music, when you see acts like this and nine inch nails and QOTSA, you realise what a large difference there is between people good at their jobs and people bad at their jobs in the music industry.

Chris Cornellreally plays the crowd. He starts doing call and answer chanting “yeah” “yeah yeah” “Yeah oh yeah oh” then he does the trademark Chris Cornell scream which goes on for about two minutes. No way can the audience match it – but they all try. Very cool.

On comes RATMSS(Rage against the machine sans singer). With one opening chord and cymbol crash the crowd knows almost before the chord is half way through that we are now getting “killing in the name of” for people who have never been to a rock club since 1993, this is track 2 from RATM's first album. It is an anthem, and is played regularly in all but, the really really trendy rock clubs. It starts with the line “some of those who were in forces, were the same who burn crosses”. It suggests that many policemen in America are the same people who are involved with the Klan. It builds to a rousing call to arms until at climax(If you don't count the solo). The crowd, night club, house party, teenager in bedroom, is/are jumping/headbanging with all their energy and chanting “fuck you I won't do what you tell me” about 40 times in a row. It has ensured that RATM will always be music for very angry teenagers, and also ensures, that until the rock fan's of my generation are to old and frail to get out of bed – there will still be a dance left in us.

RATM have also ensured that they are one of the most radio banned groups in america.

So having had a pulled muscle in each calf from nine inch nails less than two days previous – I found myself ditching my bobble, and jumping as high as physically possible for the 10 minutes that the song lasted. The pain in your chest from the aerobic exercise can not stop what the music puts in you.

Now that was a set!!! T in the f*king park.

Its back to the grass dwellers, who seem to have enjoyed it from where they sat. I had played killing in the name of when we drove up in order to point out how important these people were – but I never thought they would play it. I realise that the four people I have just seen have over 10 platinum selling albums between them, and managed to play a set which almost nothing but hit singles and classic songs.

We now wander again – spirits are still low, but I have stopped noticing cos I'm still buzzing from Audioslave. Its is pretty difficult to get beer, because the queues for beer tokens are so long. Instead we walk around the shops. I want a vest top because it's so hot, and also my shirt is soaked from Audioslave. I can't find anything, but I buy a bandanna, to save my scalp from sun burn. Coming your hair with a sun burned scalp is horrible!! We manage to hear a little of Jimmy Eat World while some people are off to the toilet. I only know/like the song “Bleed American”, so I'm quite chuffed to hear it.

After about an hour of donnering about, its time to get stuff together to see the killers. I'm not too bothered, but they are the “in” band at the moment, so everyone else wants to see them. Unfortunately – the everyone includes the whole of T in the park minus diehard fans of the Coral. We stand quite far away at the side. The sound is terrible. In order to be sociable, and not to get split up going to see an unknown band. About half way through I realise what a strange experience it is watching a band with about 60,000 of your countrymen, and being the only one who doesn't know all the words and hasn't heard the songs before. It's strange being that far from your own home culture. It also says a lot about the geographic nature of success in the music industry. This said I wouldn't actually know any words to Dutch pop music. Maybe I'm just not cool.

They end with a song which has a refrain; “I got soul, but I'm not a soldier” or something along those lines. It's the chant of the weekend with people shouting it out randomly at each other – the only rival is something by the kaiser chiefs which i've forgotten already. The killers ain't bad. They are good at what they do – far too British for me – even tho they are American. I can't help thinking Audioslave was better.

I do however get the chance to take a look around and get a photo of someone's “who the fuck is Mick jagger?” flag:



We now have the first time of the weekend where the crowd is in the same place at the same time. We try to get to the bar, but its not our choice, we move with the crowd, carried.

We now have a more free time until the next band that people want to see – keane. I get a well needed beer and some thai food. It is the best food I've tasted from all the cuisines, but it does pretty much guarantee that I won't be able to make it through the weekend without having to use a festival toilet.

It's now time for Keane. I'm on the fence with Keane – i think they write very good pop songs with some nice hooks, but they very much redefine boring. This said it's pretty good live act. We're near the back – but I still finmd myself really enjoying it.

The singer is quite funny. He was very genuine in his thanks for how much he likes Scotland, and how they have supported them. You kind of want to give him a cup of tea and tell him everything would be okay. Basically – not bad – I'll look forward to their next trick in sustaining it. Album number 2 should be interesting.

Now we only have the headliners left. The option of going to see James Brown exists. Most of the people there have already seen him, and it is also in the tent. If you have ever been in a rubber tent on a hot summers day packed with 10,000 drunk scots, you'll know it's not that nice an experience. I'm pretty sorry I'm missing him, but you can't see everything.

I decide that the foo fighters are a better option

As a teenager, I loved Nirvana, then the media killed them for me. I return to them every now and again, but generally, I can get the same kick off several other bands. It does however mean that I can return to Bleach and love it because I've been away for so long. Anyway, this has nothing to do with Nirvana, it just serves as the reason I bought foo fighters first single on the day it came out.

I watched with baited breath as "this is a call" was released. It was breath of fresh air, I quite liked it. The following album was good, but not groundbreaking. It established the Foo Fighters as something greater than a Nirvana follow up, but it wasn't until "the colour and the shape" that I really thought they were great. I have played almost every track on that album in various bands. They are great songs to play... Monkeywrench everlong, etc.

After this, I stopped listening as much. I don't mind someone putting on one of the albums, but they didn't have any standout tracks to me.

About this time, Foo fighters became this stadium rock band, who wrote pretty high quality, intelligent, 70's influenced rock. Dave Grohl has achieved what very few others have achieved. He's managed to make you forget that he was in one of the most influential bands of recent times. Congratualtions!!!

The truth is that I don't remember much of the Foo fighters at T in the park except to say that they were really good. Often by this point you are looking at your watch waiting for them to finish – but the time flew by. They played the new single “Best of you” a song that really grew on me over the past few weeks. They also played monkeywrsench – this is a call, breakout, everlong – I couldn't reallly have asked for a better set.



I saw them once before, when they were touring for the first album. They were supporting the Prodigy. This was sometime in Late 1995 early 1996. Dave grohl had far less confidence back then – he was hiding under a beany hat. Now he is the all conquering Dave Grohl – who plays drums on so many good stuff. Dave Grohl is one of those guys that gives you a reason to read the liner notes. He crops up on everything from Queens of the stone age to nin. He's alos played with Pearl Jam before – making him a very lucky guy.



In the foo fighters he passes the tub thumping duties over to the extremely adept Tayler hawkins. Tayler Hawkins and Dave Grohl are the foo fighters – I couldn't tell you anything about the other two.(Or three – who knows). Near the end – Dave Grohl announces that a far better singer than he is going to come on stage. It's Tayler Hawkins. He switches places with Dave Grohl to sing a song. Tayler Hawkins is such a show man. He has the crowd eating out of the palm of his hand. He says that he needs to warm up - so he does the freddie Mercury eh oh stuff calling and answering. Maybe it's to prove that he can do a chris cornell – he ends with a scream. Since Dave Grohl almost definitely knows Chris Cornell – I would imagine that the two bands were back stage together.

It works magic! The crowd can't get enough of Tayler Hawkins. Even when he's back at the drum's he's shouting “ehhhhh oooooohhh” They then close the show(With breakout I think), and it's time for home.



Not a bad day - Audioslave were the highlight for me,a nd it's hard not to enjoy the foo fighters. We have a burger on the way back to the tent and then sit with a few beers and some JD's and coke, ready for our next day of T.......

On the road to T

Waking up with calf muscles so sore that I can hardly walk,. And a ringing in my ears, it';s time to pack fro T in the park. In the few hours that I am home, I need to put a wash in, as I've not had time to wash my conference clothes since leaving Vienna. I'll then pick them up on return from T in the park. This is one of the little publicised elements of travelling – when are you meant to do your washing to prevent you either smelling, or only wearing new clothes. Moan Moan Moan.

Anyway – I pick up the bundle of tents, sleeping bags, and general camping accouterments which I left there on return from Skye(I'm so organised!!!), and throw them in the back of my mates care. We have encountered our first problem. This is a vauxhall corsa, we have three people yet to pick up, and the boot is now full. But what the hell – we're going to T in the Park!!!!!!

T in the Park is Scotland's music festival. It started in 1993 or 1994(from the Ash's of the Tennants live summer events based in Glasgow, but my first year was 1995 when I got to see many of the people who would become Brit pop heros perform in front of three students and a sheep. My first year included – Skunk anansie, Dodgy, Supergrass, Ash, the prodigy, and various other bands which weren't famous then, got a little bit more famous, and are not famous now. In those days the concert was in Strathclyde park, near a place in Scotland called Hamilton, but now it is Balado near a place called Kinross. It has grown each year. It now has 70,000 attendees, so I would assume that in 1995 it was closer to 20,000. I have been to various years in between with friends who have came and went, and I have seen many a band. What is more important is the atmosphere, of 70,000 drunken scots in a campsite/music festival.

So we head off to pick up our fellow happy campers. It's a real challenge, as they have even more than we do, but we manage and head off in the direction of Glasgow. We stop at Asda to stock up on food etc. I warn that everything that we buy has to go on people's knees. Despite this warning we manage to fill a whole trolly.(A lot of which I must admit was beer). So the next leg of the journey takes place with three extremely squashed passengers ;in the back of the car. The journey up is pretty good fun – helped not least by the iTrip and iPod combination. By the time we get to Kincardine bridge we are in a Traffic jam, but you already know that these are all fellow T-in-th-parkers so you don't mind so much. This is however the start of the Queuing. We wave at passing pedestrians in small sleepy towns, we wave at fellow travellers. Generally there is a good fun atmosphere as we

Eventually we arrive at the T in the park car park. Now the fun really starts. We have about three car''s full of stuff to make our weekend more enjoyable. We have got to get this stuff from the car park to the camp site. We don't know how far it is, but in order to get settled down(i.e. Have a beer) as quickly as possible, I take as much as I can, and set off. Very soon, I realise that we have quite a way to go until we get to the campsite. Everyone's pace slows, as it becomes clear that this is no short walk. Several rests and unhappy faces later, we finally get to the first stage of security. We have to empty out all our glass bottles into plastic milk cartons. This includes, vodka, red wine, white wine and lambrini – we have just increased the amount of bottles we have which makes carrying things even more awkward. The pace is slowing to something approximating reverse, and my beer is getting further away, while simultaneously destroying my shoulder muscles.

Once through the first ticket secure area, I decide to take matters into my own hands. I will take all the stuff I have and run ahead with my fellow Skye-Trekker to a pitching site. Once this is done, I'll run back and then make the way back with the girls with a more even load while Luke Skye-Trekker is pitching the tents. As a Scottish boy and fisherman I can trust him to do this. I can also trust his pride as a male not to complain about not getting the rest that the girls get – even tho we all need it just as much.

This seems to be the light at the end of the tunnel. We are now multi-tasking. I trust that we now have manageable baggage, and the tents will be pitched when I return. I return to the heavy faces of the girls and take the stuff back.(That beer has to be getting closer!!!)

It's now about 11pm. The people around me are getting drunker, and I'm regretting leaving so late, getting stuck in Traffic, and bringing so much stuff. Eventually guide the girls to the pitched tents. Nearly time to sit down and start dinner while other people go back and bring more stuff from the car. We also have a new task. We have to exchange our ticket for a wrist band. This is reported to take a few hours, and This will have to be done before we can return to the car. So I am not over the moon when I realise that all my fellow campers have lost their tickets on the route from the ticket security to the tent. I am the only person left with a ticket, so I have to go and get a wrist band myself, and also go and get all the stuff from the car myself, I set off to go get more stuff in order that I can finally sit down for a beer. The wrist band queue is skippable. Sorry to anyone who queued for a while, but needs must.

A very very very tired and not-so-happy camper returns to the campsite after the 3 mile or so walk with the remaining stuff myself. I've had to mull over going to T in the Park tomorrow myself, that they will probably not want to sit in the tent all weekend and go home, and that I could have spent a lot less money going to concerts myself closer to Amsterdam. My arms are agony. I carried extra stuff on the way on the understanding that it would speed things up. Now I have carried about 3/5 of the stuff for 5 people. I'm feeling heavily hard done to. My only comic turn is in the security tent where I get frisked – maybe cos I'm on my own.

With a face like fizz I nod grumpily to all the questions “any sharp objects?”, any drugs?” “any bombs?”. Standard crap. I'm used to traveling and putting up with the mundane – but now I'm in Scotland. We have a need to cheer each other up. He sees that I am pissed off and adds “Any porn – hardcore or softcore?”. It's T-in-the-park, no matter your mood, you are part of a team – the Scottish team – determined to have a good time – even the security is part of that. I answer “You buying or selling?” with a smile. You can't be grumpy here. People just don't allow you. You have to be very determined to have a bad time, it's against the security rules.

So I return to the campsite, not really that pissed off, but determined to let everyone know how annoyed I am with them, and how much they should appreciate my efforts, when they couldn't handle a third of what I did, not because I'm fitter, just because it has to be done, and standing about moaning about it doesn't get it done. Maybe traveling has hardened me.

The good news is that they have found the tickets. Someone found them on the ground and handed them in. This is astounding. Touts are selling tickets outside for at least £300 and there was 4 tickets there. I finally get my beer(albeit a little warm), and I get to cook a good beef stew to the amazement of many drunken campers passing and wondering why someone is chopping red onions and crushing garlic.





After a good feed and a few beers, everybody's happy and we chat until the early hours before going off to bed looking forward to the weekend to come........

nine inch nails - Barrowlands Glasgow

Wow!!!! Just home from nine inch nails at the barrowlands in Glasgow. It’s been a while since I was in the barrowlands, never mind such a good concert.

Having barely been in Amsterdam 12 hours, it was time to head off to Scotland for T in the Park. As I left last week, I noticed in the paper that nin were playing at the barrowlands on the day I was coming over for the Scottish music festival. By now 7.7.05 will probably have been made in to 9/11 by the UK media. I was traveling that day, and all I felt was numbness to it – maybe denial as a protection measure(I found out in an airport – I don’t/can’t start worrying about Armageddon) or maybe I just can’t handle the media. Anyway – who wants to self analyse before a nine inch nails concert.

Nine inch nails were always a little heavy for me – but when contemporary music is shit, you tend to revisit older music you had dismissed. I always liked the idea of nin, but was put off a little by how hardcore the fans were. I have pretty hate machine, but had to be in the mood for it. Now heavy is not as heavy as it used to be, and I augmented my music collection with the new album “with teeth”. It blew me away – I keep on meaning to get round to writing a review of it on here. All in all, its avery well put together album of good intelligent music, the likes of which I’ve not heard in a good while. If you’re not sure, listen to the first track – “All the love in the world”



So I decided that since I was arriving in Scotland for T in the park today, that I would try to go and see them at the barrowlands – they are playing in the Netherlands, but it is in Nijmegen – which is far away(By NL standards). Traveling from Vienna to Amsterdam – Amsterdam to Glasgow, and then picking up a mate and going and buying tickets from touts, felt very rock and roll. The price I paid from touts was stupid, but that’s the price you pay for being too busy to keep your ear to the ground.

The touts are pros. They all have English accents, but I don’t doubt for a second their ability to hold their own in the east end of Glagsow. He tells me that the ticket is standing that he has no seated tickets. Anyone who knows the Barras(Glasgow speak for the Barrowlands), knows that there are no seats – I find this pretty funny. Also – while I’m doing the deal, he starts to inquire about nin. He realises I’m not daft, so tells me that he’s been doing this for years, and he’s never seen an audience like this he asks with what is almost fear in his voice “how heavy are this band??” I try to explain that they are dark, but I think visual gamuts mapped onto aural textures is too much for him to handle.

I’ve picked up an old friend from school. If I’m not the traditional nin listener, then she really isn’t, but she is a fun loving full of energy bouncy person, who I think knows that you should listen when I say some music is going to be good.(Okay – I was a little worried that it wouldn’t be up to scratch).

Walking up to a queue of nin nails fans outside the barrowlands ballroom was wonderful – it’s a site I’ve seen so many times. The Barrowlands ballroom, is a 1930’s(???) ballroom in a very rough area in the east end of Glasgow. It was the battleground for the Glasgow razor wars, it was where Scotland’s serial killer bible john found his victims, but more importantly it is one of the best music venues in the UK. I’ve seen in excess of 30 bands here. By the time I was living in Glasgow, I was going to any concert that I could until I overdosed on too many mediocre bands – but tonight is something different. It feels like a sold out concert.

The audience, because it’s nin, are a complete freakshow. This is a compliment – for some time, Glasgow has had a group of teenagers, who have embraced a watered down version of goth fashion and sat outside the modern art gallery in Glasgow. I always thought I’d be so pissed off if I was a real goth, that these neds(Scottish for delinquant – but far more descriptive), had stolen my alternative and made it mainstream – but tonight we see that there is a big difference between the real and the fake.

Apart from the almost compulsory base colour of dark black, everyone is their own fashion. There is a PVC basques, torn suspenders, high heels, platforms, dreadlocks, and just about everything you can imagine, but it has far less of the fake that it used to have when I was getting bored with concert going. This is far more real.

The friend who is with me is getting the value of her ticket pricing by people watching alone. The first band is some hip hop thing. I don’t even give it a chance. I prefer to soak up the atmosphere and catch up. We stand in amongst the incoming crowds moving from toilet to bar to cloakroom to stage. We feel rather underdressed, but it soon becomes clear that almost everything is acceptable.

There’s a lot of firsts. I think I may have been the first person to attend a nine inch nails concert with a girl wearing white. It’s so much fun taking in the atmosphere. I reminisce about pre/early Brit pop where there was camaraderie with your fellow concert goers. I blame oasis. Concerts became acceptable domains for “lad” culture, and everyone was far more protective of their space, but tonight feels so much different. Maybe cos it’s been a while, maybe cos almost everyone here is an individual so appreciates the other individuals. It feels good anyway.

It’s 9pm, so time for Trent and the boys to take to the stage. The stage set has three microhphones, a kind of computer/synth/keyboard booth, and a matte Black drum kit. This makes me laugh – glass black would have been too happy I think. As we stand quite near the front, lights down, crowd energetic, we have what I belive to be another first. As a result of discussing Evanescence and my inability to get really into bands with female singers, one of our number(lets face it – it wasn’t me), is singing Joni Mitchell as Trent Reznor takes to the stage. Live Goths will be rolling in their coffins.

We start with a blue light on a piano playing reznor in the middle of the stage before we are introduced to the real sound.

The band are LOUD. I’ve been to a lot of concerts. I’ve ruined my hearing and need things a little louder – but this is LOUD. The guitars are loud at almost every frequency across the spectrum – reminding us what a guitar should sound like. The guitarist is pretty goo – we also have lots to watch – he jumps arouns a lot and seems pretty angry with his guitar. The drummer is the epitomy of an 80’s skinny goth, even down to having half long hair and half shaved head. Twiggy Ramirez(I don’t know his post Manson name) is quiet(as a good bass player should be), but along with the drummer keeps things grounded. The drummer has a kit constructed of both analogue and digital elements – this works so well, cos it allows the changes of timbre and pace, and orchestration which reznor can do so well.



I can’t remember the set list. I’ll get it on line later. Hand that feeds was fairly early – and so so good. They also did closer, head like a hole, the collector, terrible lie. They played for about 2 hours – maybe more. I’m not sure. It’s all a bit of a blur.

I am now hobbling around home preparing for T in the park with a pulled muscle in my calf from jumping up and down to head like a hole. My ears are still ringing – but It was so so good. I’ve not had a concert like that in a very long time. The spontaneity, the crowd, the venue, old friends – all wonderful. What a good way to start a weekend of music.

Here's the setlist:

1/ Pinion (Intro)
2/ The Frail
3/ The Wretched
4/ You Know What You Are?
5/ The Line Begins To Blur
6/ March Of The Pigs
7/ Something I Can Never Have
8/ The Hand That Feeds
9/ With Teeth
10/ Terrible Lie
11/ Burn
12/ Closer
13/ Reptile
14/ Love Is Not Enough
15/ The Collector
16/ Suck
17/ Even Deeper
18/ Gave Up
19/ The Day The World Went Away
20/ Hurt
21/ Wish
22/ Starfuckers, Inc
23/ Head Like A Hole

Vienna.

I’m in Vienna for a few days for meetings and a conference. I’ve only ever been to Tyrol and Salzburg before, so it’s time to enjoy another KLM flight.

My first bloggable comment is that Vienna is much flatter than I thought it was – looking out of the plane, all you can see for miles is strip farming on relatively flat land. I still remember the lushness of Tyrol – green mountains - a lot of rain – which after being on a bus through the boring long autobahns of Germany was literally a breath of fresh air. This looks more like Holland.

The first thing I do is attend a pre-conference social dinner with project partners. This was on the top of a hill(Over ruling my entire first paragraph), over looking Vienna in a vineyard. It was quite nice. We had a buffet with many Germanic foods – roast pork, bbq – generally a lot of protein.

Apparently CummilBrat(?? – My German deteriorates by the day), which is roast pork with a cumin sprinkled rind is a specialty, it was certainly pretty tasty. We also had some sort of vegetable that is similar to asparagus, but not asparagus in a salad. To wash it all down it was white wine spritzers, while sitting among the grapes they came from. Some Italian members of the project consortium thought this was sacrilege, not just ruining the wine, but also ruining the water. We must take good water for granted in Scotland.

I think because spritzers are low in alcohol I had too many. My stomach didn’t feel the full schilling(Gedit???), for the rest of the trip.

The rest of the conference was mostly work. I never made it to the centre, where I’m sure there’s some very nice things to say. The chocolate cakes in the conference coffee sessions were wonderful, so I assume the real thing would be even better. I had Wiener schnitzel for dinner twice. I didn’t think it was anything special.

The only other worthy thing to report is some late night drinks I had in a small student pool hall called “impuls in sound”. It was really bizarre, sitting with people from the conference in the dingy type of bar which I really love.

I’m afraid that’s it. The only photo I took was from the hotel.

The rest of Scotland

The rest of Scotland

So we did it. Skye in a day. We decided late last night, while we had a fire on the beach, that since the weather was so good – we would try to see as much of Scotland as we could. We decided that we would drive back down glensheil, and then along Loch Ness to Inverness, and then decide where to go from there. Driving back through glen sheil takes far longer the it seemed to coming – it's amazing how quickly the brain will get bored when it has seen something before, or overdosed on beautiful vistas the day before.

Through past Invergarry, we get down to Loch ness. We are back to civilization: you can tell by the slow tourists struggling round loch side windy roads. Even though it is still pretty nice weather, Loch ness has a thick layer of mist hovering over it. I think the Scottish tourist board get up early in the morning and put it there, cos it adds so much atmosphere, and you can see how the tourists are attracted by the stories of Loch Ness and Mysticism.



Apart from getting out at Blair Drummond and lapping up the tourist tack, the biggest attraction on Loch Ness is Castle Urquart. Castle Urquart has obviously once been quite a fortress. It is now ruins. You can see from the footprint and remains, that the castle was quite big, it also sits on loch ness so can look in both directions along a major waterway.(Now the Caledonian canal). It was destroyed, like many castles, in 16?? to prevent it becoming a Jacobite stronghold.



I'm never sure what is better as a tourist attraction – a ruined castle or an immaculately preserved castle. I always find the ones which have become country houses a bit boring. When you are a kid, ruins get your imagination running much better. You feel like a ruin has seen some real action, and you can imagine a knight falling during the last battle of the castle when it was destroyed. It probably didn't happen lik this, but I'd like to think that it did. Maybe my love of grunge, and the imperfection of slightly broken things is derived from years of running around ruined castles with a plastic sword having the opportunity to interpolate more than one possible past or reality. Ah! - The joys of ambiguity.

This castle, because of it's location, is full of tourists and costs £6, so we don't stay that long. Its strange how some castles become huge tourist attractions while others sit quietly as ruins, enjoyed by locals and people who happen to come across them by accident. I remember how annoying it must have been for my father as we always wanted to stop at every castle we saw from the car driving round scotland. I imagine him taking detours to avoid the thousands of castles around scotland in order to make it to the destination.

So we drive onwards, stopping in Blair Drummond to refuel with Diet coke, dr. pepper and water. Its onwards to Inverness now. I'm really enjoying the drive. We are in good spirits, singing along to the radio and generally enjoying a 2 day sightseeing drive of Scotland

By the time we get to Inverness – the weather is a bit grotier. We think about driving all the way up to Ullapool, so that we can see more Scotland, but we soon realise by looking at the map that it's a boring drive with not much benefit at the end. We decide instead to go the long way home through Aberdeen, as we had never been there before. Before we can go to Aberdeen, we decide to stop off at another Scottish Landmark. Culloden.



Culloden is the site where a battle took place in 1746 which once and for all took independence from Scotland and was the last battle in mainland Britain. 5000 Scots from various clans known as the Jacobites. They were the supporters of the Stuart dynasty of kings in Scotland. They were led by their best chance for the throne – a small Italian called Bonnie Prince Charlie. Culloden was the site where 5000 hairy Scotsmen met 9000 english soldiers, and were killed. It was more of a massacre than a battle, with very bad planning and preparation by the Scots. I say Scots, the correct term is Jacobites, cos there were as many Scots on the English side as there were on the Scots. As with most Scottish history its a bizarre web of catholics, protestants, unionists, nationalist, nutters, hairy people and kilted people. The French also helped out the Scots as is our age old agreement.

So we find ourselves entering Culldoen. It is full of tourists. Even just the feeling of the place sends strange chills up your spine. It's a rough moor – not the ideal place to defend your nations independence. We don't stay for long, as it's a very strange experience being somewhere, where you can almost smell ghosts of your ancestors (even if you don't believe in them), while listening to American tourists ponder why they haven't renewed the gravestones for each clan which line the path, and mark where the burial ground were separated. You kind of walk along this path, and eventually get to a cairn which looks over the centre of the battle field.



I can't really describe how this feels. Although the Scots are proud of their nation, and talk endlessly about it drunk. We don't often take the time to get this close to it's history. I've been to the monument's at Ypres as part of the school trips, and all I remember is a warm day with many many tourists, and a big list of names on a monument, but when you are standing on the field, it just hits you. We left quickly, because the compulsion to ask a group of loud English tourists for a rematch became quite strong. As we leave, we take a nice photo of an old Scottish croft.



Whether this has been recreated for the tourists or is original – I'm not sure.

After a quick stop off in Nairn for lunch, we now drove to Aberdeen, as a long scenic road home. It may be that we have now overdosed on Scotland, or it may be that this was a too long a route for a short cut, but about half way along the road to Aberdeen we start to get a bit bored. The scenery is nice enough. Rolling hills similar to Ayrshire, the odd view of the coast. The weather is deterioirating.

Finally we get to Aberdeen, where we have a quick look around. The quick look a round involves a very windy beach, and Pitodrie(Aberdeen Football club's stadium)





Its now the home leg all the way home. This is much easier as it is Motorway almost all the way. The weather gets more familiar(What a roundabout way of saying raining), before we stop off in Perth fro a wonderful fish and chips. It comes from Chinese take away, so the batter is just slightly sweet. The chips are perfection – and it is a wonderful way to round off a very long but enjoyable 2 days(well 2 and a half) on the road in Scotland.

Skye in a day

Skye in a day.

So we wake up. Throw the tent in the back of the car in record time, and head off to the bridge. We wave at the bargirl from the previous evening, as we inevitably pass her on the way. (It’s a small world up here)

The weather isn’t so good today. You can’t see the mountains we could see yesterday from the bridge. We push on anyway, marveling at the sparse land and hills which we can see. We drive on and in through Skye’s small towns. We are aiming for Portree, the island’s capital. There is very little in the way of civilization before Portree. Where the road forks left round the island and right round the island, there is a picturesque campsite at the foot of a cloud-covered hill. We jot it down in our mental notebooks, as a possibility to spend the night.



We are very excited to be this far North, and this gets us through traveling along bad roads in bad weather. Finally we get to Portree,( or Port Righ in the native Gaelic). It is a breath of fresh air, it is full civilization. The first we have seen since Fort William. We get out of the car, to go to the toilet, stretch our legs, and decide what we are going to do. We have decided to climb a small hill on the island, as something to do. We go to the hiking shop. The woman in the shop deserves a paragraph to herself.

On of our expedition party had decided that pristine white Nikes were not the required attire for climbing a muddy hill track. I was picking up some postcards to send off to prospective future visitors from around the world. The shop assistant came up, and with a cheery smile offered me coffee while I looked around. She was very bright and cheery and friendly. I think it comes from being in the middle of nowhere. There was far less of the dry grumpiness, which I’ve come to love about Glasgow. It really brightened our morning, and with this newfound cheeriness, we traveled further with the intention of climbing a hill called the Storr. This required that we travel further north than Portree. This took us onto a one-way dirt road where you pull to the side when you see an oncoming car. This gets repetitive. You give the car in the other direction a lackadaisical wave, as you slowly make your way along these roads. We decided that this customary wave was not meaningful enough. We started to wave out of the windows enthusiastically whenever we passed cars. This put a smile on most drivers faces, as they saw some large hairy Scotsmen waving out of the windows of a cherry red Beetle with a sunflower on the dashboard. It cheered them up!!!

The old man of Storr.

Still buzzing from my experiences on a Munro the previous week, I was determined that we at least got a little walk while on the same island as the most impressive mountain range in Scotland. My walking round Scotland book had two walks which were non-Munros meaning they are a little easier, and more likely to be possible for amatuer’s without much bother. We decided on the Old man of Storr walk as it was first on the road, and initially we thought it was the old man of Stoer – which is much further north. The old man of Storr is a finger shaped structure of rock which juts out of some very interesting rocks beside a hill called the Storr(700 odd metres).

So we set off on a woodland path(Theres a recurring theme in Scottish hill walking here). Soon we are experiencing what I had experienced the previous week. Three steps in and you realise that you are no longer 12 and mountain climbing requires more energy, which was far more easily expendable a few years ago. For some reason, I seem to have broken through this valve last week, and I am bounding up the path with far less problems than last week. I’m not one for exercise, but in a week, I seem to be fitter, healthier and thinner. After a little climbing through trees etc. we evertually see the old man of Storr poking through the cloud. The weather is going to really put a damper on views, but I’m glad to be getting out of the car.



As we get a little higher, the views out to the sea become far clearer, and I am really glad we came to skye.




The walk is now more of a struggle as the last remaining sustenance provided by the mornings haggis and bacon rolls(You couldn’t make it up!!!) disappears. Once the woods have cleared we get a great view of the surrounding rock formations around the old man of Storr. It’s a far different view and climb than last weeks attempts. The rocks are very otherwordly. Anyway more of that later. We are spurred on by the following comical sign:



There are so many tourists going up here that we feel pretty safe. Once through the fence, you are now on a hill side, the breeze is slightly cooler which helps as the path is getting steeper. Its now a real challenge to spur yourself(and your mates) on to getting up as far as the old man. I promise that we can stop for lunch once we reach a large rock where the path turns in on itself. We struggle up the path, and sit down for a good rest and to tuck into a cold tin of soup each with a side order of a morning roll and a mars bar. It doesn’t matter what you eat when you are climbing, it always tastes wonderful.

I was concerned at the bottom of the hill that 3 litres of water might not be enough between the two of us, but this falls by the wayside, when some typical American toursists pass. Not only are they going up the storr path(a 5 hour hike), rather than the simpler old man path, they say that they regretted not bringing any water. No wonder the mountain rescue teams are kept in a job. I wouldn’t fancy a flat 5 hour walk without water in what has become quite a sunny day, but climbing along a sharp ridge of rocks where there are signs everywhere telling you not to go any further is just madness. I realised on Ben Lomond how much you have to respect nature.

Weare puggled. I decide that I am going to go a little further up into mordor for a few photos, and then, we’ll hit the road again. The weather is now beautiful, so we are keener to get road the island.



I head further up the path – and with each step, you get further into these otherworldly rocks. There is a great needle of rock. Which is a structure is far more impressive than the old man. You can imagine a giant being impaled on this in some alien fight across planets.



The ground below me is now all shingle – its very dangerous, as pointed out by the following sign:



I decide that I am going to climb up to the bottom of the old man – as there isn’t really anywhere to fall to on the back side of it. Behind it, you stand in a valley of these amazing rocks:



So I clamber up a landslide of shingle in order to get to the foot of the old man. I soon regret doing this, when I realise how long it’s going to take me to get back down, but I did rise to the challenge of reaching at least a little peak. The ground around the bottom of the old man is other worldy, it’s hollowed out a little like a cave, which adds to the sense of adventure.



From here I can see down to all the people below, and I realise how high I am. There is really a magnificent view on what has become a wonderfully sunny day.



So we go back down – full of adrenalin and proud to be Scottish mountain climbers. Theres always that bouce in your step on the way down having achieved something. In the car park we meet some English tourists, who go on and on about how beautiful our country is. We can only jokingly inform them that it’s a shame about our neighbours. I think the joke was taken in good spirits. They als tell us that at one point while out walking, they asked a passing driver if he knew where X was. He replied “aye” and drove on. Such is the dry wit of Scotland.

So its further on round the island. The weather is unbelievable – it’s rare to see sctland like this, and theres a real feeling that we may never see this part of Scotland in such beautiful weather again. We are pretty thirsty and cood do with refueling in the form of some water. We manege to stop at a little village store. They have about 3 cans of cola in the fridge and a bottle of irn bru. We realise how remote “remote” is, and how we have become accustomed to having evain available more readily. The next real stop is at a viewpoint which over looks some cliffs and a pretty waterfall. It’s a real tourist trap, mainly cos of the following views:





Theres a huge sign with lots of languages. The English at the top says “Crumbling rocks onto sheer drop cliff – beware” or whatever. An American woman pnders as to what all the other weird and wonderful languages could mean. My mate informs her, that they say “If you drop you’re false teeth – you’ve lost them”

And we’re off again – the single track roads are in full flow again – as is the enthusiastic waving. The views we can see here are the outer Hebrides. You also get to see some good views of another very different mountain range called the Quarraing, which include a hill with a completely flat top. The locals even play shinty on it. Maybe we’ll climb that next time.



This not only makes us feel very adventurous and far north – but we also decide(Probably because of the monotony of winding roads) that Hebrides could be a type of transvestite.

At a reasonable rate we manage to get back round to Portree and buy ourselves some dinner for the evening. We have decided to drive back round through the cuillins, and make camp back in Kyle of lochalsh, in order to see as much as possible in the short time we are out driving.

After portree we make our first stop off at Dunvegan castle – it’s pretty disappointing. Maybe just beside the mountains – or maybe cos it cost us to get in, and all we wanted was a leg stretch:



This area of skyw is different again, it between two pininsulla’s so has stiller water, more like lochs. We continue on down, in the baking heat looking forward to the vistas we know we’ll get at the cuillins



After a quick detour to talisker distillery,



We have views of some of the nicest mountains in Skye/Scotland/UK. They really are beautiful. Photos can’t do them justice, you just have to go. I will one day make it up at least a little bit of these mountains.







We kind of know that that’s it. We’ve see Skye in a day – its been wonderful. I’m sure we became a little more patriotic today. We take a small detour via Armadale to confirm that we’ve missed the last ferry, but gte to marvel at the millpond like sea, and the views of the mainland:



and also take a quick look at the island of Eigg:



The evening finishes back in Kyle of lochalsh, with a campfire on the beach over looking the cullins by night,


And Eilean Donan Castle



Until tomorrow…..

Over the sea to Skye

Now I get the more exotic trip I’d hoped for. It’s only going to last for 3 days, and it’s not the full car I’d hoped for, but I am getting to go quite exotically north with old friends, so I can’t really complain.

Due to various working ours, time restrictions, and prior engagements, we set out from Ayrshire at about 4pm. It’s then a solid drive up the west of Scotland to Kyle of Lochalsh. The initial few hours is well known to me. Glasgow, then up Loch Lomond, through Tyndrum and up to the wonderfully picturesque glen coe. Although I’m not Munro Bagging(we have smokers in our party), we do do a bit of Munro spotting. Theres several mountains which I know well which could be future weekend expeditions from Amsterdam. I’d quite like to do Buachaille Etive Mor, but we’ll see.



We continue north. It’s now about 8pm, so too late to visit my Grandmother who lives up here. We opt instead to head down the Fort William road. Although I’ve been along here, it is newer territory. Fort William is the village beside the tallest mountain in Britain, Ben Nevis. The view of Ben is pretty crap from Fort William, but continuing along on our trajectory, we eventually get some far better views.



Ben Nevis, although the tallest mountain, is quite easy to climb. There’s even a cable car which will take you most of the way up I think.

The road to Kyle of lochalsh is known to be very picturesque. We are very lucky to have some reasonably clear weather. It’s cloudy, but its warm and you can see quite far. Eventually you climb to a level where you can see down across loch ???? over to some serious mountains(?????). We get out for a well earned leg stretch. They have a viewpoint which tells you the names of all the mountains and their heights. I’ve never heard of any of them.



The sun is now low in the sky. Everything is bathed in an orange glow, and we continue along the seemingly endless winding roads. This is very similar to Glencoe. I think this is Glensheil. The mountains stretch up high on both sides of a winding road. It’s late in the evening (but still daylight), so there are not that many cars on the road. It really starts to feel like an adventure. Its really easy to become a little boy dreaming of Lord of the rings and huge treks along mountainous terrains when you are in Scotland. This particular area – given it’s heavy rainfall – is a lush green. It could be rivendale, the home of the elves. Geekish as that sounds, its one of the few ways to describe the vistas. Finally after almost 6 hours of driving, I see the site that lets me know I’m nearly there. Eilean Donan Castle:



Eilean Donan Castle is one of the most Picturesque castles in Scotland/UK/Europe/The world. It IS picture postcard Scotland. It has a beautiful old bridge which leads up to a very well preserved keep. It has been used in countless films, and because it is surrounded by both lochs, views and mountains, it makes you feel very proud to be Scottish. For me, it is a marker that we are only 10 miles from Skye. We decided a while down the road, that since we knew there was a campsite in Kyle of Lochalsh, that we would pitch for the night there, and go to Skye completely fresh the next day. On our way to camping, we could see the bridge to Skye.



The bridge to Skye was extremely controversial when it was built, There used to be a ferry, but it was decided to build a bridge, which ruined the view from Kyle of Lochalsh.

So we set up camp for the night, cook a very lush and non camping dinner, swear a lot at midgies, and then head to the local bar for a few night caps.

North of the Island and home

Having completed the south of the Island(Brodick – Whiting bay – Kildonan – Machrie – Whiting Bay), today we decided to go north. This involved a very quick reminiscence trip to Brodick Castle, home of many a boyhood woodland and castle adventure:



We then drove past Corrie and down to Lochranza, via a quick toilet stop at North Sannox. I don’t remember the mountains looking so impressive:



Lochranza is much sleepier than Brodick. It too sports a castle, beach and ferry(to Cabletown). Although Brodick castle is rumoured to have hosted Robert the Bruce at some point, it has that kind of country house feel. Lochranza castle on the other hand is ruined, so feels much better when you are an 8 yr old child running about with a plastic sword.



Lohcranza itself has a new distillery since the last time I was here. It unveils it’s first 10 yr old malts next week. I must be getting old!!!



Today is a much slower day, we drive round the top of the isalnd ond on to Machrie, before returning across the middle of the island, which lets you dricvwe througfh the picturesque stirng rioad(It’s windy). I remember it with dread as a child, because it menat a really long drive, but 20 miles is a far shorter drive now, and the views of Goatfell are immense.

I’ve been really lucky with the weather. The light hits on the mountains, making them crisp against the blue sky. Bad weather can also make for some good views, but I’m glad it’s sunny.



I feel sadness at leaving Arran(It took me ten years to come back last time), but I’ve got so many interesting and new trips ahead of me, that I can’t stay long, and another day on the island without climbing Goatfell would’ve done my box in.