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..
We’ve finally finished with Munich but, before we go, here is a snap of a Namibian roadblock. The 50cc Piaggio engine was gunned, fruitlessly, outside the catering tent.. At 8am this morning, passing Giessen on Germany’s A45, I send Crazy Sandra a text. Ooh, I mean I stopped safely, sent the sms while parked and
The first AC/DC show went swimmingly, I thought. The lighting was superb – a veritable feast for the eyes – and the crowd were buzzing. Daylight began to fade over Leipzig’s Central Stadium as the band entered from stage left. The train – two truck’s worth, remember – crashes onto stage, accompanying a cartoon crash
You remember how Germans amalgamate words? Well, try this for size: the Volkerschlachtdenkmal Monument, in Leipzig. Fancy asking directions for this mouthful while travelling by bicycle. You’d get as far as Volkersch, then choke and have to apologise for covering somebody in spittle. Fortunately, it is also known as the Monument to the Battle of
Back in Nuremberg, after our splendid walk, Bettina took me to a party – three minutes walk away from her flat. A well-endowed, golden-haired girl called Connie loitered in the kitchen, catching my eye instantly. Well, one has nothing to lose by grabbing a bottle of red off the table, approaching with a quick and
Namibian has put paw to paper once more. If anybody can make sense from his sequel then – frankly – I doff my hat. Here is his inimitable contribution: Blog 2 Navigation;;;;; Hi to all blogers,,Namibian is back on open air gigs mmmm,,After having a few days at home to get homework up to date
Ah, that’s better – Namibian is back where he belongs, bringing up the rear. As you know, his unparalleled knack for mixing up cities could easily have led to us arriving in Milan instead of Munich. Or even Madrid. The other advantage to having Namibian following me is that he can monitor any stray wheels
May – ah, the start of the mating season. The weather is clement; stadium touring begins in earnest. A familiar, freckled hand passes the pink thermos flask… Yes, Namibian and I are back on the road after a refreshing few days at home. He has bought me a writing pad in our short break, and
Everybody is looking forward to going home after the AC/DC show tonight, except me. I’ve drawn the short straw and ‘volunteered’ to drop off a transformer or six somewhere in the depths of Ireland. By ‘depths’, I mean I have a map on the back of a cigarette packet, and instructions to meet Vinnie in
Little Dick and I cycled to PC World last night. Computers, like the misused apostrophe, seem here to stay…and so the bullet must be bitten – laptops with cracked screens must be replaced. Within seconds we’ve had enough. For a start it is airless inside the store, and, secondly, that bloody annoying voice keeps chanting
“Barnaby’s thoughtful musings on his voyage through life. You are not alone as you travel that valley my son.”
Father Pius Smith, Hastings.
