2007-04-17 - 2:31 p.m.
Why is it that every time I fly it seems I have to get up before sunrise to make my flight? Here I am again at Newark International airport and the sun is just squinting up over the horizon casting the world in a dull, pink glow. I need coffee. Railroad Earth is embarking on it’s first ever tour of the United Kingdom and I’m already tired. My wife Martha is along and we’ve met my older brother George at the airport to make the flight to Heathrow with us. We get all our stuff checked in and settle in to an airport café for some morning joe. The band will be met by a small touring bus, a sort of jitney type thing that will transport the band from London to Glasgow. There won’t be room for my wife and brother so we’ll be traveling by train to Nottingham and then on to Glasgow. I’ve never been to the UK and I’m excited to travel the countryside by train.
Off we go; up, up and away. Read … sleep … look out the window … read … sleep … eat … get up and walk around … read … sleep … hey, what was that bump? Oh we’ve landed have we? We breeze through customs and Martha, George and I start looking for the Heathrow Express that will take us into town in about 20 minutes time. But as we were putting our bags in the bus we decided to just cram on board for the 45-minute ride to our hotel. That was way better than trying to figure out the subway system at 11PM after a long flight across the Atlantic. We check in to the Columbia Hotel on Hyde Park and head to the little pub that’s just off the lobby. Here, here … a toast to us as we embark on our UK adventure!
Next day we have a bit of time before having to load in so we walk straight across Hyde Park to the Royal Albert Hall. There was a rare snowfall during the night and all the dogs in the park were having a blast rolling around and snuffling their noses in the snow. After wandering about around the theater and having tea we grab a cab down to Buckingham Palace. And there it is just like you remember it even though you’ve never really laid eyes on it before. Another cab, this time to Picadilly Circus. This is getting expensive. In fact everything in this country is obscenely expensive. A dollar seems to be only worth about 35 cents here. A Guinness will cost you about $9! We quickly started to hemorrhage money. The bargain of the day was getting a day pass on the Tube. It cost five pounds. With it you could go most anywhere that was worth going to in London from midnight till’ midnight. We hopped on the Tube and headed back to the hotel to get ready to head to the venue.
Taking the Tube, we beat the bus to The Borderline where we were playing our first show. It was in the Chelsea district. Looks a lot like the village in NYC. The Borderline is where most of the Americana acts perform in London. We had a nice crowd and our first performance in Europe went smashingly! Let the drinking begin! We met lots of really nice folks and had some beers then we left to go back to the hotel on the Tube. The street scene in Chelsea was buzzing as much or more than it was when we first arrived. Finding our way back on the Tube was no problem; it’s simple to figure out and it gets you to where you need to go in a fairly short amount of time. Now we had Gayle and her friend August along with us. There’s a recording that plays as you get on or off the Tube of a British fellow (what else?) that says emphatically, “Mind the gap!” … the gap being the space between the train and the platform. It’s all so very English!
Back at the hotel we ran into a situation. We had beaten the rest of the band back to the hotel. August said he had a nice bottle of wine he’d like to crack open and share so we said we’d meet him up to his room in a bit. As Martha and I were bunking in with Andy (hey, we’ve know each other … let’s just say a long time) and there was only one key, we dropped the key at the front desk so he could let himself into the room whilst we visited with August. We had a nice chat then finished our drinks and bid all a goodnight. When we got to the room it was locked. After knocking and waiting to see if Andy was in the john or something it was clear we’d have to go and fetch the key. When I asked for the key the older gent at the desk all of a sudden caught on that there were three people in a room for two. He had a big problem with this. He said another man had retrieved the key and then shortly later dropped it back off as he left. “This is highly irregular and in fact illegal! I’m not willing to risk my job. You’ll have to get another room.” I didn’t really feel like dropping the $125 for the extra room. I said, “Well there are folks in our party staying single in double rooms. We’ll just switch him out when he gets back in.” “Well make sure that you do. I’ll be checking up”, he said as we slunk off. We went back up to the room and I used the john. When I got out I announced I was going out to find Andy and warn him. I had an idea that he was out at a casino that was open late a few blocks away. No sooner did I go to open the door when in walks Andy. I asked him what the old guy at the desk said. “He wanted to know what I was going to do about the woman who was in my room. I said ..’What women? Oh her? Is she still here?’ That Andy! Always thinking on his feet! Just then the phone rang. “Here now; what’s being done about the extra person in your room?” The guy says, his voice croaking through the phone. “Well my brother’s in room 211… George Carbone. We’re sending Mr. Goessling up to bunk with him”, I lied. And that was the last we heard of it. Whew!
Next day we had to take the train to Nottingham. Since the train took less time than the bus we had some extra time to Tube around and see some sights so off we went with August in tow to Buckingham Palace. We jumped on a double decker and made it there in no time. Did some souvenir shopping in the palace gift shop and then found the nearest Tube station and made our way over to the Tower Of London and the Tower Bridge. It’s one thing to see these things in pictures and quite another to be standing alongside them! We had some fantastic fish and chips alongside the river Thames. Took some pictures in the brilliant sunshine and made our way over to the train station to catch the train to Nottingham. The train was fantastic! Super clean and remarkably fast! We sat ourselves within hailing distance of the bar and snack car and settled in for a very pleasant ride through the English countryside to the land of Sherwood Forest.
“Taxi!” We roared off to the club. This was a trip! Nottingham is an industrial city pretty much in the center of England that was famous for it’s sheriff and his nemesis, Robin Hood. The Nottingham of my imagination no longer exists except for a portion of the forest. There may still be a sheriff but I can’t say for sure. The Maze was a smallish club in the back of a more traditional pub called, appropriately, the Forest. We sound checked and then made our way over to play live on BBC Nottingham. The radio jock was a jovial fellow who made us feel right at home as we crowded in front of a few mikes in the small studio space. We played a few tunes and were asked the same questions you might expect to be asked in the states except in a British accent. It went quite well and soon we were in the bus and on our way back to the club. We ate in a nice pub down the street a bit that was highly recommended. The pub had a few small rooms with tables and chairs. Gayle, August, George, Martha and I shared a room with a group of young Nottinghammers. The food was great and the beer even better! We struck up a conversation with our young dining roommates and Gayle convinced two of them to come to the show. I was skeptical as to whether they would come but sure enough, there they were when we started. They were a little worse for wear after the 20 beers they tossed down during dinner. They got a little too close for Papa Phil and he parked himself between they and me. They got the message and retreated after a bit, still raging and having a good old time. This was a small venue but the crowd was super friendly and I had a great time. It was great to have my wife and brother along to share this experience.
We took a cab to the hotel. The bar was still open when we got back so… well you know what happens next. In the morning we caught the train to Glasgow. The train’s crowded so Martha and I made our way to the front of the car and parked ourselves in the ‘quiet’ car. There were many more stops on this leg of the trip and as well we’d be changing trains a number of times. The trip took six hours and took us to the extreme north of England to Newcastle. It reminded me of Skehan’s tune “Carrying Coal To Newcastle”. It was an old saying his grandma (or aunt) used to say to illustrate futility. Apparently Newcastle has plenty of coal. Once we crossed over the river at Newcastle and into Scotland the train turned east and headed for the coast. From that point on it was like traveling through a Robert Burns novel. Green, rolling hills dotted with sheep fly by the window of the train. The sun is setting in an explosion of pinks and reds out one side of the train and the Scottish coast is flying by on the other side. It’s starkly beautiful. We catch a glimpse of the ruins of an ancient church right on the beach, the surf pounding fifty feet away. Then we are plunged into a forest only to come out of the trees at the crest of a hill looking down upon a quaint, seaside village. It was like looking at a diorama in a Scottish train set!
Now that the train is less crowded we all congregate in one car. Except for a few people towards the front, we nearly have it to ourselves. We stop at a few more stations in Scotland and then disembark at Edinburgh one last time. The imposing Edinburgh Castle looms out of the darkness, lit up on a hill. When we arrive at Glasgow station it’s just past 8 and time to find something to eat. We get a recommendation and head off. We find this restaurant built into a massive bank. The foods good and once again the beers better. We cab it over to our home for the rest of the trip, the Holiday Inn. Martha and I are pleasantly surprised to find we have our own room. And the rooms are great! More like a boutique hotel than a Holiday Inn. After we settled in we went out for a little pub-crawl. I’d never seen such a variety of single malts in my life. We’d have a drink in one and then move on down the line. Glasgow is a fun town!
Celtic Connections is held in various venues around downtown Glasgow. At the end of each night the music continues till five in the morning in a large venue in the basement of the Holiday Inn. It was fantastic! All you had to do was head on down from your room and watch a seemingly endless cavalcade of Celtic music each night. They served food and if you made it till three, they served breakfast! The first night we saw the great Luka Bloom and a fantastic young group that went by the name of their fantastic, young, female fiddler named Anna Massie. They were a blast! The next night it was our turn in the basement venue. We were given a 20-minute set. The crowds in England were loud and into it from the first note. Not so much here. They were polite but they didn’t really rip it up until we pulled out Rag Time Annie Lee at the end. They were on their feet for that one!
The following day we made our way down to a flea market I had read was a must see. This was definitely ‘the other side of town’. The neighborhood reminded me a little of the South Bronx. Jerome Avenue around Yankee Stadium to be precise, minus the elevated train. Some of the venders looked more like old, washed up prizefighters. It was cool but not as interesting as I had hoped. I picked up some Scottish graphic novels and we had some tea. Then we went to see two great bands. One was a Scottish band called Malinky and the other was a band from Sweden called Ranarim. They were both great, Malinky just made sparks fly! … and Ranarim featured two female vocalists that sang as if they were touched by angels. That evening I tried haggis … for those not in the know, it’s the national dish of Scotland and it’s made from various parts of the sheep that are better left unmentioned lest you think me crazy. You can’t get some of the ingredients for real haggis in the United States. I’ve heard that the USDA has declared them "unfit for human consumption". It was delicious! A bit like hash or boudin made with oats.
Sunday was our last day in the UK. The weather was like a cold, damp rag but we decided to brave it and go see the Glasgow Cathedral anyway. On a windswept hill overlooking the Cathedral lays the Necropolis, Glasgow’s gated city of the dead. Climbing the hill past the crypts and ancient headstones, the weather framed the scene perfectly. We ran into Phil, Stacy and Carey coming down the hill and they made us aware that something really awful must have happened here in the 1850’s because it seems as if hundreds of people died over a decade’s time. It seemed like a third of the people buried in this place died young and between 1850 and 1860. We made our way around the gravestones and mausoleums, the carvings a mix of gargoyles, angelic cherubs and Celtic knots and eventually wound back down to the Cathedral. The Cathedral was amazing! What I found interesting was the various tributes to the fallen heroes of the many wars fought by Great Britain. They had statues dedicated to Glasgow’s fallen in the Crimean War and the War of the Roses! Great Britain made a lot of war over the centuries. What price Empire?
Our last show in the UK is at the ABC Theater. It was a fairly large and fairly new theater that held what looked like 900 people. Celtic Connections is a city festival and as such there are shows simultaneously being presented all over the city. And as if that wasn’t competition enough, Willie Nelson was playing at the Enormodome! We still filled all the seats in the lower level. C.J. Cormier, a fantastic guitarist from Canada opened the show. We came on and the crowd behaved much like the crowd at the Festival Club the previous night. Just polite applause at first; they seemed to be waiting for us to show them something. Apparently they were waiting for Little Rabbit because that brought them out of their seats. They gave us a standing o, so that was pretty neat!
Back at the hotel after the show the jam was raging on in alcoholic splendor! Amazingly we were all able to crowd around the very last table and just hang and soak up the atmosphere while downing our last single malts in Scotland. I bought my good friend Phil Kalstrom a drink to celebrate his 60th birthday (a little early) and we stayed up real late even though we had an early call for the airport. It was all ending too quickly. My memories of our first tour of the UK will be fond. It was a great blessing to have my wife and brother there to share the experience. I can’t wait to go back!
