The written thoughts of a traveller.
Touring with Rock ‘n’ Roll bands; exploring Europe and the world; flirting in bars… and some naughtiness.
Oh, and all with a trombone. Enjoy..
‘Sherry?’ asked my mother at Christmas. ‘Just an eighth of an inch,’ replied my grandmother, wrestling with this blatant abuse of alcohol. An eighth of an inch? I thought we’d gone metric in the UK. Maybe this is a generational thing. So in a bar the other evening, I asked a woman in her mid-twenties
Phew, all that enjoying ourselves is out of the way for another year. Aah, back to doom and gloom. Wondering if you could contract something ghastly and get holed up in a cosy hospital until the spring? Yes, that’s what I like to see – a positive spirit. Now you may regard New Year as
‘Cooking is easy,’ people are forever telling me, usually with the authority of a papal edict. ‘It’s really quick.’ But is it? I’ll tell you what the problem is. You glance at a “fabulous, four-ingredient recipe” in a duffers’ book and pop to the supermarket. Easy peasy. But then gas marks are introduced, along with
Have you booked your winter holiday yet? Has the idea of seeing the Aurora Borealis been germinating in the back of your mind? You’re just in time – this season is destined to be a tide of increased solar activity. “But it’s cold,” I hear you cry. “I want to go to the Maldives.” Preparation, preparation,
Ladies, a window of opportunity has arisen. Do you remember this circumferentially challenged man? The man who sits down to pee because ‘it’s comfy’; a deeply resistible man; a man with the morals of an alley cat? Well, I have good news. Four years ago you must have been distraught; when “Namibian” took his conjugal
To celebrate Halloween, here’s a six-minute spooky speech I delivered last night at a Toastmasters meeting. (Yes, that’s really me, dressed as a ‘skellington’.) Imagine dramatic pauses and gestures, vocal variety and scary (ish) facial expressions. Tale Number Three will have you reaching for the smelling salts; it’s a true story… “Mr Toastmaster, Fellow Toastmasters,
Lou Reed died yesterday. As I was lucky enough to work on the Berlin Tour – in the summers of both 2007 and 2008 – I’d like to relive some of the happy memories and pay my respects. ‘We were in a cafe, you could hear the guitars play. It was very nice. It was paradise.’
What a tour schedule! A Slayer show in Oulu (northern Finland); the next night in Oslo; the next in Derbyshire, UK. Now for all you Americans that “do” Europe in a weekend, pay attention. These are huge distances and there is water in between. Doable by road? Nope. Even a Porsche would be snookered, let
‘English?’ asked a jolly Greek border guard. ‘What are you doing here? It’s miles! Oh, heavy metal? How funny. Can we see the guitars?’ If you remember from a few weeks ago, a Balkan policeman had just woken me up and advised that I push off sharpish. Bandits were afoot there, apparently. Had I lingered
“Barnaby’s thoughtful musings on his voyage through life. You are not alone as you travel that valley my son.”
Father Pius Smith, Hastings.
