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‘Got any pies?’ asked Fat Paul, optimistically. ‘I’m starving.’ His prodigious dimensions suggested that starvation was, in fact, far from imminent, yet I rallied to this desperate cry for provisions, searching high and low in the truck’s fridge. I eventually produced a delicious fruit selection. Fat Paul’s face, a mask of wan discomfort, bore…
It was a shambles. Trucks loaded with U2’s equipment were peeling off in different directions: left, right and centre like the Wacky Races. Hapless colleagues were led through the centre of St. Petersburg; others were seen heading the wrong way round the ring road. Oh, what a rigmarole. It became increasingly clear that our armed…
WHY DO WE HAVE RUSSIAN ARMED ESCORTS? Rock and roll trucks are always assigned security cars in Russia. But why? Will we otherwise be overrun with marauding bandits? It’s difficult to say, because every time I’ve driven to Russia I’ve had an armed escort. On each occasion I noticed no impoverished brigands lurking in the…
U2 TOUR TRUCKS ENTER RUSSIA After the terrorist bombing of Moscow airport on 24th January, Russia has been catapulted to the fore of our minds. Right now, The Foreign Office advises us to avoid specific regions of Russia for all but essential travel. But take extremists out of the equation; are we left with a…
‘The funny thing,’ adds Mark, ‘is that we don’t even listen to U2 at home. But I love the excitement here amongst the fans: that angst, that knot in your stomach half an hour before you go in. Then the elbows everywhere; places guarded jealously; every man for himself. And then we’re all friends again…
There are two extremes. On one hand, there is the crew. Few of us bother watching a show while on tour, be it Madonna, Bon Jovi or, in this case, U2. We tour primarily to pay our mortgages. Free travel, and chasing providers of milk and love, are arguably splendid bonuses, but fundamentally we’re in…
‘What you want to do,’ advised Gentleman Steve, ‘is put all your photos on an external hard drive.’ He paused, leaned back, and forked in another mouthful of supper before volubly continuing. ‘And then delete them off your computer.’ Sounds good, I thought, envisioning a pretty nippy browser after 10 GB of pictures had been…
You wouldn’t believe how long it’s taking me to import blogs to this site from last year. And every now and again, I find a spot of text that deserves to blight the front page once more. This is from Christmas ’09 and celebrates the presence in my life of a certain South African: Who…
I’m disheartened. The “Helsinki Experiment” – tarrying in bars, hoping to be approached by fruity, Finnish girls – failed miserably. Yep, that pitch to the editor of FHM, announcing Finland as a manifestly viable destination for sex tourists, might as well be scrapped. Still, onwards and upwards – I’m not beaten yet. It’s just that…
This was written last year. I’m in the process of transferring old blogs over to this site…so do scroll back through the archives occasionally: I don’t know what happens in the other trucks – well, Namibian, of course, will be uttering banalities nineteen to the dozen to his double-driver – but, on our drive up…
