What a difference in the weather. If you scroll back four months – Crikey, have we really been on tour that long? – you’ll see that the first indoor gig for AC/DC was in Oslo. And, boy, was it chilly – the pictures show a foot of snow.
Now, in mid-June, we have almost continuous daylight, and it’s marginally warmer. This opening picture is actually driving in Denmark, but this is about as dark as it gets up here at this time of year.
We’ve headed north for three nights to get to Oslo from Paris. And, quite frankly, I’m knackered. In fact, Namibian and I have had a crossed word. He mumbled into the radio, interjecting snippets of trivia such as where Little Dick has parked, and how many kilometres we have yet to drive.
My audio book was being interrupted, and – tired – I snapped. He s
napped back, and I fell silent, chastened. He didn’t threaten to withhold flasks of tea but that was a potential risk.
So I apologised. You see, he really is a good egg. In fact, with his flaccid frame, he shares many similarities with an egg. No, I don’t mean that it takes him four minutes to get hard, or, indeed, that the only chick ever to sit on his face was his mum.
No, no, no. I mean that he is soft in the middle. This avuncular, sunny-side-up character will remain my friend to the end.
Right then, having brought you circuitously to the city of Oslo, I’m going to gloss over it entirely. I’m still a little prickly from the trip up, and in no mood for gathering blog material. Let’s gallop ahead to Finland and jump o
n a ferry instead. (But I include a couple of Norwegian piccies from the archives.)