England 2004 Moody Blues Tour

by Maggie Clarke

(I took hundreds of photos Moodies and otherwise; they'll be added shortly)

 

New York to Birmingham to Nottingham

 

Wow! Here I am in merrie old England! I started writing this on the train to Nottingham from the Birmingham International Airport. I feel like I've been through the wringer already and just got here. The day I left (Oct 1) I was multi-tasking through preparations for the trip, making last minute hotel reservations for London and Brighton (I have never had so much trouble getting a reservation for a hotel as I did for Brighton -- took about 15 tries to find a place with a vacancy and one that would rent me a single for one weekend night). I also was prepping for class, teaching class, etc. One of the things I did was to make some color xeroxes on cardstock of my Moodyland business card. To save time, I put my big scissors into my knapsack to cut them up on the subway ride to class. After I got back home, took out the class notes, acetates, etc, and stuffed my trip things into my Moody blue Samsonite rolling duffel and knapsack, and then realized I still had not purchased any train tickets. In the past 2 trips to England and Europe, I'd bought passes but in pricing out the short hauls of my trip, it looked like the cheap fares on www.qjump.co.uk would be a neat way to go. Nationalrail.co.uk wasn't as easy to use as Die Bahn (www.bahn.de) was for Europe, and this added to the time spent. The Qjump - (queue jump) tickets are so-named because you print them out at a kiosk, not having to wait in line. Some of their fares are half what the normal fares are or less. I only had time to order the first one, from Birmingham airport to Nottingham, but I didn't realize that I would have to wait for a confirmation email to be sent after ordering the ticket.  But after 15 minutes it did come, and I was off to the airport, albeit a bit late. I missed my intended train to Newark airport from Penn Station, so started to get a bit nervous. But it was ok, and I started what has already been a marathon of dragging this poor holey Samsonite bag up probably 20 flights of stairs up to the time I’m writing this - 2 days into the trip.

There weren't many people in check in, got the duffel on its way and got to security. They were very interested in my knapsack and starting taking everything out of it looking for a little pair of scissors.  When they pulled it out, this hulking 9 inch long pair of shears, I was so shocked, yet then remembered how it got there. They were going to throw it out, but I thought I'd try to check it in my bag.  But since the checked bag was already gone, I emptied my knapsack into a plastic bag that Continental gave me and then checked the knapsack with the shears.  You would have thought that was the end of my worries, but no.  I decided to go back to the same security line as before so that they would have seen everything before and I would sail on through.  I took my sneakers off so that they wouldn’t have to ask me again.  But now they decided to examine the video camera very closely and asked that that be put into a separate bin.  Meanwhile, they took me and my plastic bag off to another place and looked at my digital camera, wiping it down, examining the cloth, etc.  It was all quite unsettling.  Meanwhile, they had a middle-aged middle-eastern guy and his wife next to me, wanding his legs and shoeless feet over and over again.  I wouldn’t mind all this quite so much if I knew that the government was screening all the
non-passenger cargo that goes into the plane’s hold. 

After all this, I thought I’d be late, but the plane was delayed.  I got myself a Ben and Jerry’s cone for solace.  The flight was uneventful, but I was wired and watched the movie Day After Tomorrow all about a disastrous global change in weather.  Pretty appropriate stuff for the times considering all the extreme weather and geological events that have been going on lately.  It was fascinating to watch Mt. St. Helens go off live from school that afternoon.

Got into Birmingham Airport and was interested to see that immediately adjacent to the train station, which is immediately adjacent to the airport, that the NEC venue was right there.  In fact, I almost walked into it by mistake, overshooting the train.  Picking up the ticket I had ordered via Qjump was a breeze, and I did save time not standing in the queue.  The train signal man on the platform told me that a big storm was coming in for Sunday -- the remnants of tropical storm Lisa, so my plan to hike the Peak district nearby to Nottingham the day after the concert was probably not a good one.  I remember having done that upon arriving in Manchester two years ago, and yeah, I could see myself wading in ankle-deep mud through sheep pastures and what not.  Not!

The train rides to Nottingham were fairly uneventful.  The area is not particularly beautiful, but quite industrial, and the fields were not quite as green as when I was in England in May 2002.  The change of train in Birmingham was a heart-breaker.  Dragged the bag up the steps and across the station and down the steps to find 2 trains.  I went to the one on the left, and meanwhile the one on the right (on the same track) blew the whistle and went off.  Had to drag the bag up and down again.  Dragged up quite a few more flights in Nottingham and up the hill to the Strathdon, in the rain maybe 20 minutes, past some very quaint old pubs.   I Immediately set out to explore the town, found the venue, checked in at the local Jessops (the camera store chain throughout the UK), and the town square with the City Hall that looked something like a small St. Paul’s cathedral of London.  The shopping streets were really abuzz with activity, and the occasional church and old buildings were quite picturesque.  The Hard Rock Café was in an unusual-shaped old building (Flat-Iron shape) in a prominent location near the main square. There seemed to be an abundance of pasty (not pastry) shops.  I’d only had the croissant on the plane and a couple of cookies waiting in Birmingham New Street Station for the next train, so I stopped at the Oggy Oggy pasty shop.  Pasties were about the cheapest thing you could get at 1 pound 50p.  Things in Britain are expensive these days, what with the awful exchange rate, getting worse by the day, now about $2 per pound.  Cornish Pasties look like an empanada, and the traditional one was minced beef and onion.  I ate mine outside next to a couple and chatted about the Moody Blues.  The guy remembered Justin Hayward. 

Later, after making another circuit of the town (going back further than the train station and back), I linked up with Nancy and Mary for dinner at an Italian restaurant, and then went on to the concert.

Concert
The Nottingham venue was really two venues in one.  The concert hall, off to the right, reminded me of the St. David’s in Cardiff, looking pretty new-fangled inside, with two balconies -- very plain.  There were no center aisles, so moving around was not so easy.  I met Linda who had my ticket -- second row John.  I thought the acoustics were very good. Each instrument seemed quite crisp.   Within the first song or two John was posing for me.  I enjoy that mainly because it reassures me that he doesn’t mind me taking photos of him.  Justin had on this new shirt sort of off-white with little brown flowers I think and fairly baggy grey pants.  John had his leather pocket black pants and cowboy boots and a plain white shirt.  Norda had on her green dress and spiked heels.  There were some interesting new lighting effects this time and also 3 new screens above the band on which they shone the lighting show.  There were clouds moving on a blue background (probably TA), and on a couple of songs I had a great time taking pix of Paul and a little of Justin with a sort of starburst effect in different colors behind them.  The ones of Paul that I took were pretty funny, at times a nice sillouette, but a partial starburst coming out of his nose or the back of his head.  I didn’t count how many I took altogether, but it was quite a few and there were some very nice and unusual expressions.

It was interesting my perception of time during this concert.  Normally, the concert passes by too fast, but this time, it seemed to last longer (happy to say).  I think that the newness of the visual effects and the clarity of the sound captured my interest more than usual.  Sitting right in front of John, I was struck by the crispness of his bass tones.  In addition, I think that he is really adding a lot of fast background riffs to songs that didn’t have them before.  He really impressed me with his virtuosity.  Having seen Chris Squiers of YES perform, I could make a quick comparison, and I think it comes down to the fact that John’s work is not featured as prominently in songs as what Chris does.  He’s developed parts that make the whole sound richer, but doesn’t really point obviously to his own contribution.  I’ve thought in the past that this is true of some of his songs, as presented on record.  Justin sings all the songs he writes, and Ray the same, but John would more often give parts of a song to Justin and sometimes Ray to sing (e.g, Sooner or Later, ILS).   John is doing incredible stuff at the end of TOSOL, in the middle of Question while Justin’s doing the slow part, YWD, and IKYOTS to name a few.  I was watching intently to see if I would be able to copy it, and I think it would be a real challenge to do it  -- much more so than picking up many of Justin’s lead solos, which I have done.  On one of the songs that John was really doing a fast, intricate riff, I noticed that he was fingerpicking it.  I don’t think I’d ever seen him fingerpick an electric bass -- an acoustic bass, yes.  I was wondering if I had just not noticed it before or if he’d dropped his pic.  John did place a pic in a fan’s hand at the end (another new departure of recent times, as he used to just throw it, making fans scramble for it). 

I very much liked when Justin, Paul, and Gordy came out after the intermission (interval in Britspeak) to play Forever Autumn and got a shot of the multi-talented Gordy on keyboards.  Justin was a bit under the weather with sinus problems again, alas. But I continue to be amazed that it doesn’t affect the quality of his voice except for the occasional crack, which is part of his signature style anyway.  The way he enunciates Here is quite interesting -- Hee ah..

Afterwards a number of us (I guess about 30) waited for the band to arrive at the bus.  After maybe a half hour, John and Graeme signed quite a few autographs and John had his photo taken with a couple of folks.  One person I knew by sight but didn’t know was calling for her friend to get the camera out while John was waiting patiently with his arm around her, so I reached in and fired up my camera and took a couple, including one at the instant she planted one on his cheek while he was still smiling.  Though Justin went straight into the bus (the tour manager asked that we leave him alone as he was not feeling well and he was snivelling quite a bit onstage), he did sign things that were passed to him on the bus.   I think everyone left satisfied.

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From Nottingham to London
I've been back for over a week now, surfacing after falling into the predictable black hole when I returned, and am now patching together the various bits that I wrote and rewrote many times about my England trip and the concerts, as the PDA repeatedly lost or corrupted the files.  Sorry if this repeats anything others wrote... I haven't had a chance to catch up.
 
I left you all last time outside the Nottingham venue with John and Graeme signing autographs outside the bus and Justin inside, protecting his voice.  Next morning, I'd originally wanted to spend the day cycling in the Cotswolds, a rural area south southwest of Nottingham, but found out that "ya can't get thaya from heya", especially on a Sunday when they fix the tracks and suspend bus service.  My next thought had been walking in the Peak District, northwest of Nottingham, as I had done the last time I came to England, racing out there after arriving in Manchester and then getting back for a concert that night.  But the weather forecast was dire, so Nancy, Mary and I walked leisurely through Nottingham back to the train to London.  It's really a nice town with a lovely large town square (rectangle) with streets going out in all directions like irregular spokes on a wheel.  We stopped off to use a McDonalds internet station, which was an irritating combination of a keyboard built into and flush with the table and hard to press, with imprecise touch screens instead of a mouse.  It's also unnerving to use an internet connection that you pay for in advance and which times out on you...  I remembered how in Florence I'd lost a half hour's worth of composition when a session timed out, and was watching the clock closely.  But darned if the session didn't time out early, so I lost more writing.
 
Getting to the station, Mary and Nancy had Britrail passes, but for the first time in going across the pond, I decided to buy tickets point-to-point as all the travel was relatively short this time and buying the cheapest fares was the best way to go.  However, because I hadn't tried to buy the ticket soon enough via Qjump, I did have to stand in the line in Nottingham.  At 41 pounds it was the most expensive ticket I had to buy.  After I got my ticket, we all went running, and just barely caught the train.  Travel Tip:  If you are running for a train at the time it is supposed to leave, make sure to wave and shout so that the train man on the platform sees you and doesn't give the all-clear for the train to leave.   We were lucky in this regard as they did wait the few seconds for us to pile on. 
 
The journey went by very fast as we had lots to talk about.  The train went through the east Midlands, via Leicester (pronounced Lesta).  I've asked some Brits why they pronounce some cesters that way - and others, like Winchester, the way they are spelled, but they don't know.  Cester is from Roman castle (caster) - like Lancaster.  The scenery featured some fields, hedgerows and sheep, but not nearly as many as I remembered on the western side of the country last time.  I began to notice almost immediately that there were butterfly bushes in great abundance, particularly along train tracks and out in the wild. There would be long rows of these huge bushes, and even springing like weeds near parking lots. Most of the blossoms were spent for the year, but many still had the fragrant lavender blossoms.  These are great butterfly magnets, so I'd guess there's a healthy butterfly population in Britain.  The number of bushes shouldn't have been such a surprise, as we give away several of these self-seeding bushes from my garden every year.
 
We got to London's St. Pancras station, and as Mary and Nancy needed to validate their London Underground passes purchased before they left the US, we walked to Kings Cross station next door, and then to Euston station.  I think there are a dozen or more of these stations around London; I used seven of them this time in day trips and traversing through London from Ipswich to Brighton and Brighton to Oxford.  Because the Brits tend to take rail much more than car, each one of these London train stations has many (well over a dozen) tracks for commuter and inter-city trains, and lots of shops.  One even had an outpost of laterooms.com to set people up with hotels and show tickets. 

Once I had bought a 7 day pass for the inner two zones of the tube for about 20, and Nancy and Mary got theirs validated, we headed down to the underground to start our journey to Gloucester (Glossta) Road station in South Kensington.  I'd forgotten a few of the fine, but important, points of navigating the tubes in London.  One critical point is that you need to know the name of the station at the end of the line you want to go on.  This will be on the front of the train in small letters, unless, of course, it's truncated and stops before the end, in which case you need to know all the intermediate stops as well.  We ended up making our way down to correct platforms as trains were coming in a couple of times and jumping onto trains already in the station, just to find it was the wrong line that came in on the same platform, and then having to backtrack.  I'll give it to NYC; they have large, bright, colorful signs on the fronts of trains as to which line you're on, the line and destination on every car, on the back of the train, and on each platform, so it's harder to make mistakes.  Another fine point, don't go out the nearest exit to leave the platform upon arriving.  Look for the yellow on black "way out" sign.  If you go into an unmarked passage, you not only feel like a salmon swimming upstream as you walk up the stairs, you more than likely won't easily find how to get out and may end up on another platform somewhere.  I must say, the trains are quite comfortable, what with their plush upholstered seats with generous cushions.  And the long long escalator rides are entertaining with West End posters and other things advertised on either side.  I was reminded about the show based on the music of Queen and saw it advertised everywhere.  I decided that I'd try to see it while in London.
 
Getting into my digs at the Westbury hotel, I was glad to find I was closer to the Gloucester station and to the venue than the last time I was there.  Gloucester is a happening area with lots of eateries, open relatively late, and an internet caf頯pen till midnight. The hotel is very cheap - $55 per night for ensuite shower, but very small, and not many TV channels (like about 8, 3 of which are the same station showing snooker (pool) tournaments).  One was always showing an American movie late at night.  Pretty slim pickings.  The Polish lady staff person on the front desk during the day was quite helpful and nice.
 
A bunch of us had dinner at the same Old World Italian (Monde Vecchio) restaurant that Betsy and I ate at one night after the show, and then retired back to the Queensgate Concorde lobby.  Walking back to the Westbury later, I was amazed to find the Sainsbury supermarket open very late - past 1 am, so I bought some breakfast and other provisions.  Turned out to be a good move.
 

 

Hard Rock Luncheon  and RAH 1  
Next morning I went to the basement for the unimpressive continental breakfast (cold cereal, toast, juice, coffee - it was the last time I'd do that as Sainsbury's lowfat yogurt, croissants, and hot chocolate made in my room was far more appealing), and then on to nearby travel and luggage store.  My Samsonite rolling duffel, which had been brand new August 1, was now springing holes every day, and they were getting larger, so I wanted to see if this store could help me get Samsonite to give me a new bag.  I was also having trouble with the Radio Shack international electrical transformer, which had worked nicely in Europe, but despite being labeled to have an England-friendly plug, it wasn't fitting into the sockets.  But surprisingly, the fellow was so unhelpful on both counts, I left even without buying anything, I wouldn't even buy a phone card from that guy. (Thanks to translation of the fine print on my Italian phone card by the nice Polish lady at the front desk, I found it had lapsed just 2 days before with almost 12 euros on it!! so watch out when you buy European phone cards)  To help me keep all my electronics (camera, video, roadstor, pda) charged, the hotel rummaged through all the adapters that previous guests had left, and I ran up and down 2 flights of stairs trying out different Transformers and UK plugs.  Once I found something that did work with most of what I had, I was off to Gloucester station.  Tip:  Look at the sticker near the plug of the device you're trying to charge and see if input can be not only 110 volt (U.S. standard), but also 220 or 240 volts.  The latter are for Europe and England.  I found that most of my equipment could use either input; they just needed the correct converter plug. 
 
At "Glossta" as I was examining the different tube routes, I met up with Brian Andrea from Da Bronx and his family on their way to the Hard Rock cafe.  There was very successful outreach thanks to Nancy J and company, and there were well over 50 (80?) people, taking up most of the restaurant.  The Hard Rock had remodeled the basement room for parties, so there was not so much room for eating there anymore.  The food was great, as usual, and there were so many people I knew, it was nice to see and catch up with old and new friends (ones I'd come to know in Monaco). 

After the meal we adjourned downstairs for the raffle.  They chose to show the Red Rocks video downstairs.  Wow do they all look so young!  I wasn't expecting a raffle, and I was surprised to win a 45 of IKYOTS - both the English and Spanish versions!  It was signed by all 3 band members.  Other raffle items (door prizes} were T shirts, programs, CDs etc. The whole event was quite successful. 

Afterwards, Renee and I walked through Hyde Park, covering a good bit of it.  There were lakes with paddle boats for rent, and many kinds of common and unusual waterfowl abounded in the Serpentine; we liked the coots.  We walked briefly through Bayswater, where Justin wrote Nights, and then reentered the park, finding very tame swans near the lower round lake.  I stood over some taking pix from above as they preened themselves totally ignoring me. 
 
After all this I was a bit tired, so I spent some time at the local Internet place on Cromwell.  I was going in there a couple of times a day, and would have sent in my reports earlier if the PDA hadn't lost what I wrote so many times. Technology is great most of the time, but it seems that I'm destined to lose at least one post per trip.  Running late to get to the RAH for the first show, I hopped the 74 bus and made it there in 15 minutes.
 
RAH 1
The Hall has been renovated with new signage and new bathrooms (and probably other stuff that I didn't notice).  There are 12 doors in this round structure and you can enter any one of them and walk around if you want.  There were 3 levels, with the arena (the floor) down a couple of levels.  There is a loge (which they call stalls in this venue - though the floor seats are called stalls elsewhere, with balconies sometimes referred to as the circle).  There are 3 balconies above the stalls here and the width of the floor is short - anywhere from 20 to 30 or so.)  I remember the scaffolding being up the last time in May 2002, but took some time lapse photos at night this time in all its glory. 

Justin's cold seemed a bit worse than in Nottingham, as he was sniveling frequently. He had a hanky coming out of his left pocket and was taking in prodigious quantities of water during and between songs.  When he gave his intros, one was quite long and rambling, including an apology in advance, that if he should hit the occasional blue note, it was because of his cold.  But still, despite all that, most of the time, Justin's voice sounded as golden as always.  As I was back in the 8th row in front of John and was able to snap away all night.  No one checked bags coming in (that was true at every concert I went to in England, though there was a pretty scary sign in Brighton.)
 
Graeme had on a new sea motif shirt one night and a new black pattern on white another.  I noticed that some concerts are over quickly. But this one was somehow full of detail that I had never noticed before.  For one, I noticed how John plays IKYOTS without a pic.  That's a pretty fast moving bass line to fingerpick.  I was also getting into how Justin - plays certain riffs.   I noticed how during the break in English Sunset the only other accompaniment during the early 4 bars of the solo was Gordon banging a small tambourine, followed by 4 bars where each beat is a triplet, then a series of drum rolls, followed by one drummer continuing the triplets and the other doing the Ringo beat (4/4 with an accent on the third).   I also noticed the keyboards during the verses - it took me a while to figure it out, but the chord alternates with each bar, and the rhythm is a sort of inverse of the Ringo beat (4/4 with nothing in the third beat).  Interesting eh?
 
Afterwards a couple/few dozen waited outside for the band to come out.  They never did.  At first a few of us waited near the bus and trucks.  Gordon came out with a few friends coming from the Stage Door area around the other side.  So we drifted over there after a while.  When Norda and Bernie came out, folks talked with them for a while, and I had opportunity to give each one a sleeve with some reprints.  Bernie joked how one of the pics, where they both looked like they were having the time of their lives, made it look as if they really like each other ;-)  The weather had turned decidedly colder from the night before, and I was pretty frozen by the time we gave up waiting, around 12:30am.  The barmen said the band had left the bar an hour before. We adjourned to the Concorde to warm up, review the night's events, and plan the next day.

 

Windsor and RAH 2
 
The night before, Nancy D, her husband, and I made a plan to spend the day in Windsor.  I'd been there 35 years before and remembered that the town was very nice, and the castle memorable.  It's where the current royal family spends its weekends.  The route was from our Gloucester road changing at Embankment (a station on the Embankment of the Thames) to Waterloo station on the south side, where you can also catch the Eurostar to Paris, thence by intercity train to Windsor. 
 
The walk up the hill was deja vu from 35 years ago.  The town was indeed very nice with more than its fair share of Thai restaurants!  It was 12 pounds to get in to the castle and grounds, but worth it.  It's not one castle, but actually a large number of castle-like buildings of different ages, some from the middle ages, and some later.  The view west into the Thames valley from the castle was great - up on a hill, as most castles are.  We were fascinated by the English pigeons that were in trees eating fruit or nuts, we couldn't quite tell which.  They looked just a little different from American ones.  Most of the buildings were constructed with chert (crystalline silica, in their lingo), a very hard, light grey stone which they called "self-cleaning", with the later buildings/extensions of sandstone not nearly as nice or durable.  They told us that the Queen spends many weekends a year there, where she can ride horses and walk her dogs.  She arrives in a regular car, no escort.  By contrast, Victoria was born there and used to take the train, and then a carriage the very short distance into the castle.  The dining room was set up to show how dinner parties are - too opulent to even describe.  It was pretty amazing that only one painting was lost during the huge fire in 1992 (the annis horribilis that the Queen talked about in her Christmas message that year where Charles and Diana divorced as did Andrew and Fergie), and they did a masterful job of replicating the intricate woodwork on the walls and ceiling.  There were rooms full of everything from armaments and armor, to dolls, and of course lots of paintings and furnishings.  I noticed the same sort of wall fabric patterned royal burgundy the same as was on the walls of the Hotel Negresco where Justin entertained us.
 
The gardens were rather small and not in season (the big garden season in England is spring with their profusion of rhododendrons and azalea), and one garden debuted only 2 years ago for the Queen's jubilee.  The town was indeed quite lovely with a pedestrian mall and really quaint pubs and shops.  In the last 10 minutes before the train, I walked over to a nearby neat-looking street and within 2 blocks, I got to a bridge over the Thames, revealing a lovely town on the other side (Eton), Christopher Wren's home and a chocolate shop bearing his name.

RAH 2
My only first row ticket of this tour was right in front of John!  :-D   But the sound was a bit deafening this night.  I had noticed that Justin's red Gibson was muted and all coming from the left side speakers, and Paul's keyboards were so shrill out of the right, that I had to go in search of earplugs to preserve my hearing.  Its really odd that they never seem to fix these obvious errors by the second half
 
Justin's cold seemed a little better though he did, once again go on at same length before about traveling  in a drafty old tour bus and that somewhere between Glasgow and Newcastle he caught a cold, so if there were any blue or brown notes, everyone should understand.  He had gone on and on about how in the old days Graeme and John came up with great album titles like Days of Future Passed and Lost Chords etc.  This was all to introduce Voices in the Sky as part of Lost Chord.  I still marvel at how good Justins voice sounds with a cold.  But I guess he keeps things flowing by all the water he's been drinking onstage.   At first there was a full liter bottle, and after he finished that one, there was another small one.  I admire the man's bladder control!  John was sweating quite a bit tonight and I'd noticed he also had a large bottle of water.  After Graeme's dance, and tonight, unlike the first night at the RAH, we all got up for it, someone had said, Graeme, you rock, to which he replied that he needed some oxygen!    Graeme gave two children their lucky 13th set of drumsticks.  Being in the front row was a bit dicey on taking pix and I was shut down during Lean on Me.   The security lady knelt beside me, tapped me on the leg and said no pictures.  I didnt dare try again from my seat, but did snap some more during Question with the crowd at the stage.  It wasn't to last as a guard across the stage got the attention of a fan next to me who elbowed me to look at her.   Gee, Thanks!  Got about 30 pix in all that night.   But Id gotten several times that the night before.
 
As a consequence, I got much more into the concert in a different way in looking more carefully at John's and Justin's fingerings and by playing air drums" with Graeme on ILS and others.  I noticed that John was fingerpicking IKYOTS again so this must be standard - I'm quite impressed with that.  Fingerpicking results in a smoother, less punchy tone from his bass, which is, I guess, what hes looking for in this song.  There were some snafus on lyrics by both the Jays tonight.  Justin's was during Forever Autumn, where he gave another long introduction.  The mistake came in the 3rd verse and he had brought a few words in from another verse making a non-sequitor, once he realized it and returned to the right lyric.  At the end of the song, he threw his guitar pic on the ground in disgust.  Johns snafu came towards the end of See- Saw.  For a couple of lines he was mouthing gibberish and then stopped.  He looked exhausted.  He then smiled and rolled his eyes, beginning again correctly.  Since everyone was singing at that point, and even though he had backed off the mic, I was close enough to hear even with the rest of the Band in high gear.
 
I had a packet of photos for Paul many of which I had taken back in Sept 1999 at the Labor Day daytime concert at Montage as well as some from more recent concerts.  When I first got his attention as they were all waving, he said  afterwards" and I took that to mean outside, after the concert, but he came and took them from me shortly afterwards.  After the concert most of us werent so interested in waiting for the band, and a couple of us went to a different Italian restaurant that was vying for tourist business on Cromwell Road past Gloucester, since the first one waved us off as coming too late.  We had the place to ourselves.  Both of these Italian restaurants were serving entrees for less than 10 pounds (as little as 6 with the specials).

 

Richmond and RAH 3

This morning I had to decide was I going to go to Hampstead Heath, a northern suburb or London, or Richmond, which is to the southwest.  I'd read that Richmond Park was the largest urban park in Europe with 600 deer wandering around, and that it was a lovely place, so I opted for Richmond.  Since it was at the end of a tube line that goes thru Gloucester station, getting there was easy on the line just past Kew Gardens.  The weather was a bit brisk and it turned out it was to be alternately beautiful, sunny and brisk or chilly, windy, cloudy and rainy.  Of course I'd left my umbrella back in the room.  Thanks to things falling apart, I had to do some errands in Richmond... bought some bright blue duct tape for the blasted bag at the iron mongers, toothpaste at Boots, and left off one of my devices at the Sony store in town for recharging (that was nice of them!).  The tourist office was buried in a basement of a building on a side street over half a mile from the train station not the best, but they gave me a map and some options for walking.  I was eager to see this beautiful sight that made Capt. George Vancouver, the guy who discovered Vancouver in Canada, which I consider to be one of the most beautiful places I've ever seen, say something like 'the sight from the top of Richmond Hill is the most beautiful thing he's ever seen'.  The hill is actually an escarpment, where the land drops off fast, and then you're in the Thames river valley, looking south and west.  It was really easy to see the rain clouds approaching...  Though it was a bit nasty at the top of the hill, I did snap a rainbow through a residential development in the other direction.  There's a nice park right along the escarpment, perfect for strolling.  But this view doesn't compare at ALL to Vancouver.  He must have had some emotional attachment to the area... 

Then there was Richmond Park.  The weather was worse, and I was getting cold and wet, walking faster and faster to get to the cafeteria well into the park.  There were no deer yet...  There was a nice little garden, and the cafeteria was welcome refuge.  While I enjoyed my veggie lasagna (the British tend to go overboard with the cheese and very sparing on the veggies) and Elderflower soda (a very interesting flavor - not too many calories - I brought the bottle home with me), I enjoyed the view out towards the southwest.  Of course the weather had cleared shortly after my arrival, and I sat watching the next storm cloud approach.  The tourist office had given me the directions down to Ham House on the Thames with a walk along the Thames back to town, very inviting, but I also wanted to see some deer!  I was working under a time constraint and had to choose between these since I was meeting a friend of mine (another waste prevention professional - Minnesotan living in England) for dinner. 
 
My decision was based on comfort and the familiar.  Opening the south door in the cafeteria complex it was just too cold and windy, so I walked north further into the park.  I was told by passersby that the deer would be into the trees.  I noticed that the park was basically grasslands with very dense fenced off islands of chestnut forest with an understory of 20 foot high rhododenrons.  I went deep deep into one of these looking for deer all the way to the other side and into the grasslands again easily half a mile.  Still no deer.  Went back the same way realizing if someone were lying in wait, it wouldn't be a good scenario...  The pix are amazing from this. Heading back towards the cafeteria, I came across a man and his dog who told me there were a herd of deer a bit further in the direction of where I'd just been.  The park IS huge.  Walking for a mile here, a mile there, I was only in one corner of the park.  This time walking around instead of through the forested areas, and getting up-to-date reports on the location of the deer from other walkers, I finally found a group of 9 bucks.  I shot them repeatedly ;-p  The one old bull was lying, watching the proceedings off to one side, bellowing like a cow from time to time, and the other males were chewing on the grass and looking at me from time to time.  Their antlers were stunning.  It was kinda neat.  I took some nature pix with these bucks in the foreground, cars on the park road in the mid-ground, and jet planes coasting in for a landing at Heathrow in the background. I got another of the old bull in mid-bellow.  Got back to the train just as the rain came in again.  Got back to Glahsta in time to nip in to the internet cafe and write down some thoughts..  playing catch up at this point.  Dinner with friend, too large to finish, good conversation.  Dashed off to...
 
RAH3
This is probably the 3rd or 4th time I'm writing this.  When technology works, it's so great, but boy my PDA has given me fits this trip - first the keyboard doesn't work coz the unit had lost charge at one point hard reset, and I didn't realize it lost drivers, so I have to handwrite everything into the unit, making frequent corrections, then it develops a new glitch when saving documents and loses them (multiple times) and now Word itself doesn't work.  It's a miracle I could remember all this stuff to report it.  And to boot, I lost the case on the tube platform heading out to Richmond.  I was taking every opportunity to write down notes - even waiting for the train.

Tonight was Graeme's night to shine /cock up. In the first song or two Graeme was gesturing with hands and drumsticks in grand gestures along with non-percussion intros.  It was so comical I broke out laughing.  But when it was time for him to come to the mic for H&H he tripped over Justin's floor pedals and he started chuckling.   He started the rap just a little late, did a line or two, and then broke up laughing, looking to Norda for help but not getting any.  I was wondering what would happen next... if he would pick up where he left off in the lyric or pick up where the band had gotten to, since they were carrying on.  He did the latter, which I find quite amazing that he picked the right lyric.  I remember when the Moodyfest band did one of his numbers where there's spoken word and music accompaniment (Nothing Changes), and it was so difficult to synchronize, we haven't tried it since.  The rest of the song was fantastic and I snagged a good number of shots of him banging at the kit.   He did a fine dance. The online / American fans were in the first six rows or so to the left of center this evening. We were pretty easy to spot all getting up for H+H.   Later, Justin said, 'there go all the tour profits', commenting on how Graeme had mauled the equipment.
 
In previous nights, Justin had apologized for the effect of his cold asking for forgiveness for the odd blue or brown note.  Tonight, when Justin introduced VITS, he commented that he had learned for the first time that he could yodel as a result of the cold he caught in the drafty long-wheelbase tour bus, where the best seats are behind the driver, and where John and Graeme used to come up with wonderfully cosmic sounding names for their albums (e.g., DOFP, ISOTLC).   And yeah, there were a few yodels, but the overall quality of his voice 99.99% of the time is a heckuva lot smoother and sweeter than a lot of lead singers in rock bands.

Justin said later during the intro to Forever Autumn, which has been a lengthy intro each night, usually talking about Jeff Wayne and the War of the Worlds, that it gets shorter every night for him (meaning the length of the show), and that we don't know since we're not there every night.  Right on cue, everybody in our section shouted, Oh Yes We Are!!   Then he said, "Yeah, you're here more often than I am!"  Pretty funny stuff.  Since we were all clustered so nicely in the first several rows left of center, we all stood up for H&H, Singer, the end of TSIYE, and of course even before Nights was completely over, some in my row and the one ahead were making their way to the front.  I had to crawl over 7 or 8 to get out to the aisle deciding to go towards the right.

Unlike the night before, I was able to shoot away - who knows what the rhyme or reason is there.  Maybe it was because I was in the middle of a row and they couldn't reach me as easily as the night before.  John smiled at me early on (I captured the moment) and winked a number of times through the evening.  I must say, this Never gets old.  He seemed to be a bit more On this evening than the previous two.  Justin's water bottle size had returned to normal, and maybe this signaled that he was getting over the cold.  He certainly didn't snivel nearly as much.  Maybe that had a good effect on John.

Afterwards, since it was the last of the RAH shows, a number of us waited outside, but not for that long, as many of us were going to go down to Cobham the next morning to see them there. 

We retired to the Concorde to reflect and eat.  Some were leaving for home, as they couldn't get their tickets changed to stay, so it was particularly poignant for them.  My walks back to the Westbury, stopping off for breakfast food at Sainsbury's were just long enough to stretch the legs, and not long enough to be oppressive (like where I stayed last time) almost to Earl's Court.

 

 

Cobham
After my usual morning routine of eating the last half of my evening meal from the night before with part of a croissant and hot chocolate in my room, watching the morning news or the real estate reality show "To buy or not to buy", and a stint at the local internet cafe, (2 pounds per  hour), I was off to see the band at their meet and greet in Cobham. By now, it was routine to get to the Waterloo Britrail station, as we'd gone through here on the way to Windsor.  A few fan friends were waiting for someone outside the tickets office; I bought my cheap day return, and ran to Track 3 from around 15 from where they were, and seeing who they had been waiting for on the train, ran all the way back to tell them, but they'd disappeared, so I ran all the way back.  Whew!  After the short ride out to Cobham - Stoke D'Abernon, it was a lovely half-hour walk to Cobham. I snapped a few pix of a small dam / natural area just to the east of town.
 
A few fans had arrived at Threshold before us and since I was eager to deliver Mag/Carol's package, her latest Moodies tribute books and posters to Ivy, I went right in, handed them off, and took a spot in line. I was right about how they had remodelled the record shop. It's still very small, but now almost twice its original size and more modern with a wide video screen behind the counter and more modern front windows, where the record companies put ads. The always impressive Moody Blues section was prominent, right next to the counter.  After a short while, I realized that I had left the 2 copies of the Cleveland Hall of Fame DVDs that I had bought for Mag/Carol and myself in the hotel room. I'd thought it would be great to get these autographed.  So I went and bought 2 more. Turns out I shouldn't have bothered as Phil, the store manager, told us from the outset that only 2 items could be signed.  Before the event started I asked Charlie Nault if he would videotape with my mini DV camera while I shot photos.  But then I noticed that I had only 12 minutes left on the tape, and had neglected to bring the extra tapes I'd brought to England. So I headed quickly down the High Street in search of Mini DV tape.  This is not an item that's really easy to find in a small town with a main street that's only 3 or 4 blocks long.  After trying the stationers, the iron monger, and the grocery I found a Sony store!  Travel tip:  Do remember to bring your videotapes and photo film cards with you. This Mini DV cost seven pounds (say $12 or $13)!  That's as compared with $4 in the U.S.  I told the guy behind the counter that the Moody Blues were going to be down the street signing autographs.  He asked if it was at the record store and asked if all of them would be there.  He said that all of them have been in his store, especially John.  That was nice, sort of like meeting one of Justin's church friends in Monaco.  I decided not to pry, and getting back to Threshold, the line had grown around the corner.  Phil had originally thought that he could continue servicing customers while all this was going on, but I had serious doubts. John arrived first driving a black SUV. Graeme came next in a sedan driven by someone (does he not drive?) and Justin arrived last driving a Mercedes sedan.  There were a few press that interviewed the Band inside before the ribbon cutting for maybe 15 or 20 minutes. Phil stapled a simple blue ribbon to the doorjambs. After posing for photos at the door with the big scissors (yes!) (I got a few pix amidst the press and fans all taking snapping away), the rush was on.  Phil did a good job letting only a few fans in at a time.  I quickly suggested to the first line of fans that they move from the middle aisle to the right aisle to help with flow and photography.  The photographers stood in the left aisle, the fans entering in the right, and exiting out the center. The meet and greet part started a half hour late, what with all 3 arriving late and then the press and ribbon-cutting and all. The event had been advertised to last one hour, so there was some nervousness.  John, Graeme and Justin stood cheek-by-jowl left to right behind the tiny counter and the signing and photography was fast and furious.  Phil had stacks of little gifties for all of us - small CDs of Haunted, Sooner or Later, and Words You Say, and while the band were greeting fans, signing their stuff, posing for pix, they had a constant stream of these passing amongst them so that each fan would leave with one signed by all 3.  The pace was frenetic; it was easy to forget to ask for a photo or signature, and there was precious little time to talk. While Charlie videotaped everything I took stills of everybody l knew and even some I didn't.  I had wanted to get those DVDs signed and I had brought a tour program to be signed for Mag/Carol, but the tide was very strong and it was just impossible.  I had plastic sleeves filled with photos with a note to give to each one, and I'd brought an 8x10 of myself with Justin and one with John.  After I gave Justin his package, mentioned the pic on top of me under the arch saying Chez Justin (in Eze), I did have the presence of mind to ask for a photo with him, but leaning across the counter wasn't the best composition.  Moving on, and getting a sig from Graeme, I forgot to ask for a photo with him, and when I got to John, he autographed the 8x10 of him and me 5 years ago at The View.  I asked if he remembered, but things were moving so fast, I didn't catch an answer.  Maybe it's coz he asked me to step around the side of the counter for my photo with him, and pulled me in close :-D   Of course it was at That moment that my camera, which had been operating fine until then, chose to throw a tantrum.  Just as John had drawn me in close and we were posing for Cathy, my camera locked up and refused to take any more pictures.  I can't tell you how many times this has happened.  It reminded me of one time, coincidentally, where at the taping of The View, a different camera of mine decided to go on strike after I had already taken pictures from deep in the audience, but at the moment they moved us six fans up to the front, within feet of John, and he stood there posing for me between takes, it died.  I had seen this before with my current camera in France and later, and had been trying to get SanDisk to replace the card, but they don't make it easy for you, and I didn't have time before I left for England.  Back to the mini- crisis, I excused myself from John, quickly opened and shut the battery compartment and threw in the other film card.  Got the shot with John, and since I had missed getting a shot with Graeme, I moved behind the counter to do that. The whole event lasted maybe an hour and a half and it's really hard to estimate the number of fans but it may have been about a hundred. The few of us left in the room at the end thanked them very much and then adjourned to the alley to see them off.  Somehow it was even neat to watch them drive... Justin nimbly backing out and John making a six point turn with the SUV to go out forwards.
 
Since some had come to Cobham with their bags on the way to the airport, not so many hung around afterwards.  Most went to the nearby Old Bear Pub, which wasn't serving food for an hour yet (I love it! - making a roomful of hungry people drink for an hour while they wait till 5 for food ... rules are RULES!) 

Since I couldn't wait around and don't drink, Patty, Mary, Nancy and I walked back to Stoke d' Abernon. I had finally bought a ticket to see "We Will Rock You", the rock musical based on Queen's music starting at 7:30, so I had to get back to London.  On the train, we four John fans went through all the pictures that I took looking at the LCD on the back of the camera, reliving the afternoon.  Since I've come back, I was unhappy to find that all the photos on the second card of the afternoon did not burn properly on the Roadstor that night (including the photos of John with me, natch).  But I have sent a copy of the photo CD to Roadstor, and subsequently the original (once I'd burned a dupe for myself) and they are working to resurrect these photos.  We're in process, and they got some.  I have confidence we can get the rest as each one of the 69 shots are about the right size and right time/date... there's just a "jpg marker" missing... whatever that means, and they are "read-only" for whatever reason.  So the conspiracy of the cameras and film cards thwarting my attempts at pix with John (and Justin - you don't want to know!!!) continues!  This time, twice in one event!  All the other pix I took of Moodies in concert and sightseeing burned properly.  Tip: After burning pix to Roadstor, plug it into a TV and review the pix to make sure they are there before reformatting the film card.  This is probably easier said than done in a foreign country, but better safe than sorry.

Getting back to London we decided to go straight to Tottenham Court Road, as I needed to pick up my ticket, and then enjoyed a fine meal at Garfunkel's, a chain -  much like Friendly's or Big Boy's, located right next to the Dominion theatre.  The food was great and the show was top-rate.  In a way it reminded me of Billy Joel's and Twyla Tharp's Movin' Out" on Broadway, where his music is set to a story and dance.  This one is set a few hundred years into the future, in a time where one big corporation, GlobalSoft, run by the Killer Queen, this comical but diabolical figure, has a total monopoly on all music, dance, and fashion - which was all whites and pastels, plastic and artificial, bubble-gum mindless pop, and dancing was all in unison in a line and robotic.  This music was called "GaGa". Anyone who dared to create original music using instruments (rather than computer generations) would be electronically brainwashed and tracked by Globalsoft.  No instruments or recordings remained from the rock era. Sounds very much like where we might be headed with big brother Clear Channel doing away with DJs, programming all their stations exactly alike, probably black-listing certain bands/music, etc.  Think of how fast they have swooped in and what happens if these trends continue for a couple hundred years...  It's especially distressing since there seems to be a link to the government already...

It was funny and suspenseful at the same time.  The confused hero who kept hearing lyrics in his head, and who eventually saved Rock called himself Galileo Figaro, and his reluctant girlfriend Scaramoosh.  The head of the Bohemians was a big black dude named Britney Spears -- all the Bohemians had rock names that were totally unsuited to what they looked like / their gender, etc.  They skillfully wove in a lot of the songs, and even lyrics into the dialogue ... at one point I wondered if Bicycle would make it, and yes, that's how they were going to try to get to Lake Geneva to save the Bohemians from the Killer Queen (interesting how that place keeps coming up relevant to Rock -  remember Zappa and Smoke on the water...).  The finale was the Bohemian Rhapsody.  Since they had sold glowsticks, these were waving to the music.  There was a section of fans that clearly came every night sitting a few rows forward and to the right that led the fan participation.  We were singing, stomping and clapping to We Will Rock You - the point at which the electric guitar, hidden by the band Queen centuries before, sealed up in a rock (as in stone) until someone worthy of playing it would arise, burst forth, revealing itself.  They had Scaramoosh as the natural guitar soloist.  The real band, sitting up in the rafters on each side of the stage, was great... perfect.  The voices were also spot on.  The guy sitting next to me had been to see it a number of times.  This was a cult production... much like the Rocky Horror Picture show.  Alas, I doubt we'll ever see this in the States, even though it's something we should see.

Quite pumped up, I decided to try to walk back to the hotel.  This would be a rather long walk through "Lesta" square, the happening theatre district, past the pedicabs to Piccadilly Circus, which was less happening than I had remembered it, down past Green Park and Hyde Park to Knightsbridge station near Harrods.  I was going to walk all the way back, but really wanted to put down some thoughts at the internet cafe before it closed, so took the tube back to Glossta.

 

 

Ipswich

 

My original plan (this was the trip of changed plans) was to leave London reasonably early for Ipswich and rent a bike from the local guy and ride around all afternoon.  I'd been in touch with this fellow Kevin, down to the inseam length and number of gears / panniers, helmet size, etc. and everything was set.  But when I got up, I really couldn't bear to leave London so early for riding around in a countryside that I didn't think was likely to be That stupendous.  In other words, I knew London would be more interesting to me at that moment.  The day was chilly but nice, and I decided that I wanted to do another long walk around London before heading out.  I wanted to hit a number of locations so the route was going to be tortuous.  Starting at Embankment, I walked along it flanked by docks and cruise boats on one side, and under the London plane trees, photographing the London Eye (looked like a huge ferris wheel) on the opposite bank, and neat bridges and buildings.  Got to Big Ben and Westminster, and recalling Nancy D's encouragement to go into the cathedral, I looked, but decided not to...  time and money dissuaded me.  From there I headed inland to St. James's Park, coming upon a bridge across a long lake, and lo, and behold was Buckminster Palace in a picture perfect setting with graceful trees on each side of the lake, waterfowl, the works.  I walked towards the palace, just planning to walk around the front on my way to Green Park etc, I noticed that there were huge crowds.  By the time I was in the plaza, I realized that the guard was changing!  I'd never seen that (or if I had 35 years ago, I'd forgotten).  I couldn't have planned it better.  Finally walking around the palace, I skirted the other side of Green Park from how I'd walked before, and down to Hyde Park and Harrods.  To tell the truth, I was getting tired by the time I'd reached the Hyde Park area, so hopped a double-decker not realizing I was only 3 stops from Harrods.  I headed up the steps and there was a ticket taker looming at the top, so I stopped to reach for my wallet and my pass.  At that moment the bus lurched forward as it does - as all London traffic seems to when the light turns green - no gradual starts here.  If there had not been a railing in the right location as I reached out to grab something, I would have pitched head-first backwards down the stairs.  In other words, I was very lucky.  It sure gave the ticket taker a start as I was halfway down when I caught the rail, and when I recovered she chided me to sit down first and then hand over my pass (who knew?) 

Getting off at Harrods, I had been told that there was a food court and an Egyptian hall, so I saw the latter (ok, but I guess I'm getting jaded) and looked for the food.  Found the chocolate hall first.  When I asked at information where it was, they had to ask me whether I wanted chocolate to take with me or to enjoy there.  There was a chocolate salon on the next floor up, where you can sit and enjoy the chocolate, as well as a room full of chocolate vendors on the ground floor.   Gee, to have had more time!  I really wanted to eat some proper food, and didn't make it up there.  I did buy some chocolate to take home, however ;-D  The food court was really all food to take home, with cheese bars and other sorts of special stalls for individual food types, but no place to sit, so I bought an egg and kress sandwich, eating half of it just standing on Old Brompton road as I couldn't wait anymore.  A migraine was starting, I think from the low blood sugar.  Old Brompton was a neat looking street, somehow reminding me of Paris.  The nice Italian lady at the Westbury had said not to miss Kings Road in Chelsea, so I made my way down there.  Too bad it was a disappointment, with lots of chain stores (British, American, and otherwise), because it was quite a long detour from walking straight back to the hotel.  Maybe I'd missed the best part, but walked way way out along it, then north, back to the Westbury.  By then, maybe 3:30, I had to just summon the strength to drag the bag to Gloucester, tube to London's Liverpool Station, and off to Ipswich for the show that night.  I figured there was no way I was going to try to bike, now what with the migraine as well as the late hour.

After an uneventful train ride through flatlands, I arrived in Ipswich, expecting an easy walk to the hotel.  This turned out to be a longer than expected walk through town, with the poor bag that had developed a definite list to one side, dragging the ground and making bigger holes.  Though I'd gotten a little off-course, the town is lovely and enjoyable to walk through.  I was arriving just before 5 and the many pedestrian streets were bustling.  Little did I know that the entire town was to close down pretty tight at 5 with the Regent and only a few places to eat staying open after that.

The Great White Horse Inn, an historic, old hotel and tavern, with its winding hallways turned out to be much better than Westbury (not only bathroom ensuite, but also - a  tub!) but it was 40 pounds, a  bit higher than the $55 I spent at the Westbury.  After stowing my gear, I decided to take a walk down to the harbor. Last time I was in Ipswich, I'd stayed in a place slightly northwest of the main center of town, so I'd missed seeing the small harbor and most of these neat pedestrian streets altogether. Once I went down to the harbor, it was a serene spot with 40 swans.  They all came over, obviously begging for a handout.  I still had the other half of my egg and kress sandwich left over from lunch that I'd been planning to have for dinner.  But the swans were clearly begging for food - how could I resist?  So I gave them half of the bread of the half sandwich, little by little, as I was eating the rest as open face..  I made a special effort to throw some to the poor youngster (grey, and clearly getting picked on by the rest).  Then they all found the real pot of gold - a man and his son came with a whole loaf of bread.  It was great for taking great pictures - the sunset on the harbor, the boats, and the swans.  It was nice and peaceful, good for the migraine, which still hadn't abated.
 
The Regent, just a couple of blocks from the Hotel, is one of the old Theatres; the inside is ornate with a balcony, nicer than the outside, which isn't much to look at.  Jus had a normal water bottle this night and he looked and sounded great.  He didn't do the long spiel about catching cold, blue notes and yodelling for the first time, which I took to be a signal that he considered his cold to be on the wane.

Graeme tried out a new introduction to H+H, or was it a reference to December Snow -  it was something to do with his (snowy?) white hair but I can't remember the details, and Patty thought that Justin was not pleased with this new intro and started talking to John about it as it was happening.  I didn't think it was amiss, but I never heard Graeme try this intro again...  Interestingly, during Singer, John backed off of Norda and Bernie early and let them sing the woo without him, and during the long, ending guitar solo, he moved in on cue, but backed away from Justin early, went away and then came back right in the middle of their solo.  I didn't get why - maybe he had to turn a knob on the amp?  Once again, I got a lot of nice pix ;-)
 
After the show I didn't go behind the theatre as I had 2 years ago, since I'd just seen the Band in Cobham.  Patty and I were hungry (no surprise!) and found that even the pubs were closing.   But we found a Chinese restaurant (remember? Reliable and cheap?) and got some wonton soup and a mint/chocolate ice cream dessert (they were closing too).  I walked her back to the Novotel and lo and behold, there was a lively night scene going on there with an open restaurant and bar.  The ice cream desserts looked so appealing that we had another.  :-)  There was a couple there also from the show so we reviewed the pix I took using the LCD on the back of my camera.  Always dependable for after-concert entertainment.

Got back to the Great White Horse, and found that the TV actually had the Presidential debate on.  Problem was, it started at 2am and I was literally dozing on and off through it.  This made for a lateish start the next morning.

 

Brighton

Getting up was a bit difficult after the hard day before.  I'd forgotten to mention that getting back into the Great White Horse was not easy since the pub was just about closed, and the hotel was closed.  I had to get a cop off the street to show me the back entrance to get in.  I was pretty beat after all the walking I'd done in London, and then the journey, the walks around Ipswich, not to mention the show and the Presidential - debate.

Since breakfast at the Great White Horse was six pounds, and the night before I'd seen a pub with a breakfast special, I sauntered through the very busy pedestrian lanes with old tudor shops, cheek-by-jowl with McDonalds and larger new shops like Boots - the drugstore chain.  I went for a full English vegetarian breakfast at P J Weatherspoon's next to the Golden Lion.  It was a big bargain at 2 pounds 10 - a gargantuan plate of 2 eggs, toast, baked beans, tomato. mushrooms, and 3 hash brown potato wedges.  The pub was in full swing with about 30 men, drinking, playing darts, etc at 11am.  After a couple more errands - one to Boots to get some pills for the migraine I'd had since the evening before, and to 2 banks to negotiate a check I'd received in pounds (which they wouldn’t take because it was too old), I was off to the library, the only internet access in town!  Since the free guest session would time out in half an hour, I kept my eye on the clock, but to no avail.  It wiped everything out a minute and a half before the half hour was up.  Can you imagine the anguish?  It was at that point, with 2 days left in England that I decided not to spend any more of it in internet cafes, and this gave me the impetus to get out of Ipswich. 

Trains for London left every 15 minutes, and after buying the rest of my train tickets for the trip there in Ipswich, I made great connections to get to Brighton.  The train from Ipswich around 1:15 was an express; the 2 tube trains came right along, and I got to the platform at the London Bridge station where Brighton trains left, with 2 minutes to spare.  They all just clicked by chance.  In the end, I'm glad I didn't buy the 3- or 7-day advance tickets because you are locked into a particular train time. The cheap day single and return (one-way and round trip) tickets were cheap enough.

I arrived in Brighton just before 4, so had to hustle to get to the B and B across town, since Patty was to meet me at my digs, on New Steine at 5.  It was the Ainsley House hotel, run by a black couple - I think from the Carribean, and cost 40 pounds, but was lucky to get anything for just one night on a weekend in Brighton.  I looked at going by bus (the 7 was supposed to do it), but I'm glad I chose to go by foot.   Dragging the listing bag through town, I got to see Kemptown and other neighborhoods up close.  Passed by a couple of internet places, but no.  New Steine is a lovely green square (rectangle) right on the seafront, with probably 20 B&Bs cheek-by-jowl.  My room was on the top floor and as we were dragging the bag up and up I was getting a lengthy tutorial on what to do in the event of a fire -- they began, if you hear an alarm in the middle of the night go outside and across the street etc...  and then I asked if this staircase were the only one (yes), so they pointed to a window half a flight down from my floor, and said I could get out that window, walk on the roof over to the next roof and down their stairs if necessary.  Hmmmm.  OK.  My room was overlooking the square, the water and the Brighton pier, an amusement pier much like what you see in Atlantic City.  I am pretty sure this was the granddaddy of all such piers.  I walked with Patty along the shore before and after the show and explored the "laines" - very narrow, twisty passages where there were lots of shops and restaurants, which were all Full!  Eventually we had a vegetarian Thai saute and then some fantastic chocolate desserts.  I'd only had the vegetarian English breakfast in Ipswich and a bit of chocolate minstrels now and then, so was starving by dinnertime.  Minstrels are a copy of M and M's but all brown and larger.

The Brighton Centre venue is a kind of plain cinder-block affair with at least two complete bars inside.  These bars were full to the gills with people drinking and smoking!  The smoke was so thick I found it hard to breathe.  I can't recall the last time I'd been in such a smoky environment.  My jacket absolutely reeked when I got to my seat, so much so that it was immediately noticed by Magwaw's husband, sitting next to me.  There was a large, fearsome sign just before going into the venue from the bars: Those found to be using digital cameras will be ejected from the venue!   Jeez!!!  That's the first time I've seen something like That!  And yet I had no problem most of the time.  I think someone came over and asked if it were a video camera, and said no, and they went away.

The venue inside is quite wide and plain, just like the outside.  The audience was largely dead from my vantage point from the front left side. Similarly, until Higher and Higher, the Moodies were strictly business.  Then some of us got up and that put some life in.  Someone said play it again, Graeme!  He said something to the effect of 'If you're buying the beer".  Interesting that afterwards when Graeme came out, he said that he was all topped off - I guess in reference to the beer comment.  He had returned to his original spiel in the introduction to Higher and Higher this night.  Things really took off with Singer and especially Question.  Jus was largely out of the woods with his cold.  Norda’s new outfit was a black top exposing her midriff with a 4-inch leather belt.  Bernie's was a long, black flowing skirt that reminded me of Fleetwood Mac's Stevie Nicks.

After a crowd of 40 or 50 gathered out the back, and eventually Justin, John and Graeme got into the bus, I was sure there were so many people waiting that nothing would be signed, but was wrong.  The Jays signed almost everything that was sent into the bus.  I hung back and was one of the last and got an 8 x 10 of my current fave pic of John from Jones Beach signed.  But the last 2 things sent in, a pic from me for Justin and Patty’s ticket stub, were sent back unsigned. 

We walked west along the shore to the old pier and then back to the east past the new pier.  It was quite windy and I was surprised it hadn't started to rain yet.  They had been predicting awful weather.  The zipper head on my royal blue bicycling jacket (wind panel on front, not back) had come off some days before, so whenever it got bad, I'd have to cross the front pieces across my chest and tuck them in my pants (this had worked ok walking through squalls in Richmond Park, and was ok for the Brighton shore that night).  I was amazed to see beautiful, rounded stones on the beach instead of sand.  They were River rocks!  What were they doing on the beach??  Under the promenade just landward of the "beach" were clubs, and all were very noisy on this Saturday night.  Strangely, the long, gaudily lit up Brighton Pier had been closed by the time we got there just after midnight.  I was expecting to be able to at least walk on it, but no.

As I wrote this bit whilst waiting for full English breakfast, looking out on the pier and sea, the server told me that the people who had sat at the same table as I had also gone to the Moodies concert last night but had gone.  I was unhappy to have missed meeting them.  And then just minutes later they came in for a chat.  It was a lovely couple from Jersey (that's the island in the English Channel near France, not New Jersey).  Another amazing coincidence is they stayed in the very next room to mine! 
 
It was easy to catch the local city bus to the train station.  Waiting, overlooking the sea and beach, I was glad that the weather was still holding up.  It was just a bit breezy.  A lady on the bus (which cost one pound 30) led me to a flea market a few blocks from the train station since there was a half hour to wait for the next train.  I was flabbergasted at how cheap the prices were.  A drop leaf, claw-foot hardwood table was selling for 30 pounds and another solid wood table for 8.  I knew I couldn't buy anything, but wished I could. 
 
The train passed through the town Haywards Heath on the way back to London.  It probably doesn't mean anything regarding Justin, but who knows.  In London I needed to transfer from London Bridge in the southeastern part of town to Paddington station, to the west of Hyde Park in the Bayswater section (opposite side to Royal Albert Hall).  The London Underground was well designed with so many criss-crossing lines that there are often 2 or 3 ways to get where you want to go.  I still had a hankering to walk around London some more so I got out of the Jubilee line at Green Park and walked through Hyde Park to the train station. Though it was a nice long walk it might have been a mistake as it was probably this transfer that shredded my windbreaker through yet another hole in my bag.  The bag was also now falling over every so often, forcing me to kick the contents to the other side every time.  Very irritating.  Paddington was like a wind tunnel that day - open to the east I think, and my ticket nearly blew away when I put it on a counter.   It has 14 tracks and 2 tube stations, which is about par.  The train to Didcot Parkway was on 14, not just all the way to the right, but then the length of the train forward as well.  I saw this sort of arrangement in the Zurich train station as well, having to drag the bag to the furthest track after my 2nd fall... 

------------------------

 

Oxford

 

It was a welcome respite to settle into my seat on the crowded train from London's Paddington to Didcot Parkway.  Why Didcot Parkway?  On Sundays there are no trains to Oxford from Paddington, just to Didcot Parkway, and then a shuttle bus.  Apparently, for decades maintenance was postponed, so now every weekend many reconstruction projects cause delays and reroutings.  I should have just taken a bus, as I saw some headed for Oxford whizzing around the corner of Hyde Park earlier in the day, but then... who knew?  The bus station is more centrally located in Oxford too, with the train on the west side of town (and my B&B was way on the east side).  A fellow on the train asked me if I take a lot of pictures, seeing my camera around my neck.  When I mentioned that I take pictures of the Moody Blues, we had a long technical discussion.  He was a professional photographer new to digital photography, and was about to shoot a wedding.  I was able to help him out finding cheaper media, as in England (and Europe, for that matter) all that stuff is very expensive, as we saw with the mini DV tape and my emergency purchase of a new SD card in Nice.  (The tip I gave him was to go to Buy.Com and Ecost.Com)   I showed him my Moodies photo albums and he said you really get a good feeling for the energy and emotion of the concerts by looking at the pictures.  I was pleased since he was a professional. 

At the Oxford train station I'd originally thought to catch the number 4 bus to my Bed & Breakfast as it was on the other side of town, but a better idea presented itself.  A red, double-decker hop on-hop off sightseeing bus would take me fairly close to my digs, giving me commentary all the way. then I could drop my bag off and come back and do the rest.  This would save time and money.  Since it was late in the day, they gave me a cut rate - only 5 pounds.
 
My B and B, the Nanford Guest House, on the eastern edge of town was only 30 pounds.  It was the easiest accommodation to arrange for.   The fellow running it wasn't the cheeriest sort, but when I mentioned I'd appreciate a low floor what with the bag that was, at this point, in questionable condition to make another transatlantic flight, he decided to put me in the building two doors down, in a triple on the ground floor.  Pretty nifty!  (I may have been his only guest.)  I used the other bed as a platform on which to fully empty and make repairs with the blue duct tape to the poor bag.  I'd noticed in London that the few holes I'd started out with (which I got on  the Europe trip) were growing by the day, allowing rainwater in in Nottingham, creating holes in an undergarment sitting on the wrong side of a hole by Brighton, and the last night in Oxford I saw that my windbreaker in the side pocket was shredded. So another travel tip: don't buy the Samsonite rolling duffel; it's a piece of garbage. 

Walking back to town I was surprised to come upon a simple sign right across the road (Iffley Rd) that commemorated the place where Roger Bannister broke the 4-minute mile.  I have noticed that the inhabitants of the British Isles don't make as much hoopla over things that we would more likely do.  The spot where the Mayflower left Plymouth (which I saw on the last trip) was similarly hard to find and low-key.  Same with my 1969 trip which took me to Liverpool, looking for the Cavern and anything else I could find about the Beatles (the Cavern had been Filled In!! and there was nothing about the Beatles there ... they've since rectified that, I hear, but it took a while.)  I can see the logic (and aesthetic value) of not having neon signs and tourist traps everywhere, and it's this sort of aesthetic that I really like about the UK and Europe as well, building things to last, and revering the old architectures, etc., and lord knows that when you have so many hundreds of years of history, you have to start becoming selective on what you play up.

When the last double-decker tour bus finally showed up (I'd given up and had started walking into town and had to run back a couple of blocks to the stop); I was the only one on.  It was getting a bit too dark to see that well anyway, so I just walked around the town looking at the various colleges.  I think they said Magdalen College was pronounced Mawdlin?  There are quite a number of colleges associated with Oxford - more than I'd thought.  I knew about the tutorial system, and that Clinton had gone there.  Blair had also. 

I made sure to find the New Theatre, and went around the block to a coffee shop to get myself some potato and leek soup sitting next to an outlet, charging my camera batteries.  As Justin said, this theatre (which I think used to be called the Apollo?) is quite old and fine.  Again, there was a bar scene and smoking... I would have gone straight to my seat, but was looking for Will Brown.  (BTW, I did find him, but neglected to get any contact info, and if anyone can help me with this, I'd be grateful).
 
Interesting notes of this, my last concert in England this go-round: John sang falsetto along with Justin's lead guitar riff on Higher and Higher (off mic, but I could hear him).  That was really neat (doesn't take much to fascinate me when John does new things ;-)  On the last chorus for ILS, both John and Justin came in one line late in singing leaving Norda and Bernie to sing it alone.  John had held the last "Cry" a smidge longer than usual with great effect, and I guessed that's why he didn't come in.  Can't figure why Justin also didn't.  This tour Justin has introduced all four backups at every show - he introduced Gordon and Paul by first name in the leadup to Forever Autumn, and has introduced Bernie Barlow  on vocals right after he introduced Norda Mullen after Are You Sitting Comfortably. 

I think we fans had a palpable impact on the crowd at the New Theatre.  At first they were pretty wooden - no movement At All with maybe half the people near me in the fifth row.  But with us getting up for The Story in Your Eyes and then Higher and Higher and Singer, by the end everybody was enthusiastically up and involved.  I saw some boot action on John (you know, his sideways walk), and Justin was smiling more, as he's just about over his cold.  No apologies this night.  I got some pix but was shut down after a while; earlier in the day my the lever on the camera that permitted me to use the normal viewfinder broke (par for the course now), so I was holding the camera out - kinda obvious to those looking for it.  I think it was this venue that had a short wall up between the seats and the stage a few feet from the stage, so there was no rushing the stage this night.  Immediately after the show I had feelings of remorse; I usually don't have post-Moody syndrome, but I guess there's always a first time. 

Afterwards folks gathered out back to get autographs, but I kept seeing no bus, so figured the bus (and they) might be around front, and it pulled up as we got there.  It was a different one from the night before.  I saw Gordon and Norda get on, then Justin and John.  Graeme got into a different vehicle (the smoking car?).  I was surprised that the Jays were signing stuff but by  that time, there were only maybe a dozen of us.  I really shouldn't be surprised at this point.  Even during the 2002 tour (and I heard also for the 2000 British tour) they frequently would sign autographs afterwards.  I theorize maybe they feel more at home / comfortable than in the U.S. where they almost never sign anything afterwards. 

We waved them goodbye, and it was all over.  The walk back to the Guest House took at least 20 minutes but there were people out bicycling and walking, even at that hour.  I had asked the host for a wake-up knock the next AM, since there was no alarm clock or phone - my last morning in England, alas - and he chose a novel way to wake me up (setting off the fire alarm in the building).  I mean, Really!  I staggered to the door and he was calmly shutting off the alarm.  I closed the door (he might not have seen me) then he knocked on it.  A rude awakening to say the least. 

The full English that he cooked was serviceable, but it took him longer to make it than I had budgeted, and that coupled with rush-hour traffic made me miss my preferred train to Birmingham airport by just a matter of seconds.  The next one was an hour later.  Calling Continental at the airport they said it would be OK- an hour before departure is when they close down Check-in.  Whew!  But I'd wanted to see if I could get to the NEC box office to see if they would take Mag/Carol's 2 tickets back.  I took a right turn out of the train station down the escalators to the NEC to see, but realized that the National Exhibition Centre (NEC) is huge and it wasn't easy to find the box office at first, so decided I'd better reverse course and check in.  Once that was done and I didn't have to drag the bag around, I took the Maglev back to the train station, ran through the NEC exhibition halls and then outside a couple of blocks to get to the NEC arena.  I wouldn't have tried this with the sorts of check in lines there used to be.  Alas, they wouldn't take the tickets back, since the concert wasn't sold out, but it was worth a try.  It was a long distance to run back, but I went through security about a half hour before departure, and even at that, I wasn't the last one on the plane (the old lady next to me got in even later, and had to have someone help her with everything - down to the seat belt, and the customs forms).

Sitting in the plane I thought the British experience was over -- all airplanes and airports look pretty much the same, but there was one last treat - they served a scone and clotted cream.  In all my visits I never had this specialty.  It was slightly sweet and very good.  Right around that time I'd been watching my fave movie of last year (Something's Gotta Give) and just as the best scene in the picture started, the pilot says, we're flying over Greenland, visible out both sides of the aircraft!!!  I'd never flown over Greenland before - even at night, and it was clear, right down to the bare rocks.  It took about 15 minutes; my attention was riveting back and forth, as I took pix and glued to the monitor.  There was a lot less ice there than I thought there should be (global warming)...  the continental glacier was well away from the coast, and even a dirty valley glacier was easy to see.  Thanks to the Moodies and all the fans I met on the trip for making it a great trip.  (PS: The bag survived..)

 

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