Talita Twoshoes

Absence makes the blog grow fonder?

2011-09-10T04:55:00.000+01:00

You know how they say inmusic the absence of sound is as important as the melody – the rests are asvital as the tune? Or in art how the negative space is what makes the painting– well it’s the same with blogs right? Hence the past year without a blog – isas important as the blog itself… right? SURE.

... in any case - Tadaima! I'm back!

And about to head to India for 3 weeks, so expect lots of musings on Indian culture, and trying to get back into the swing of blogging regularly, it was something i enjoyed immensely (rather like talking to myself in public)

;-)

Live without Fear

2010-06-25T21:16:00.002+01:00

I wrote most of this blog over 4 months ago... but i haven't felt able to post it

You may have noticed, that i haven't blogged for quite a while
because of ongoing issues... but here goes

- - -

I recently read an interview maybe in the evening Standard with a lady who i can't remember the name of now who would be termed by E! Entertainment channel as a cougar.

Her famous boyfriend is 20 years or so younger than her, and she’s just very happily, become pregnant.

I’m sure if I googled it I could find out who she was.

It wasn’t so much the fact she was a cougar and dating a younger man that resonated with me, and has made me type this little missive, although of course, it did strike a chord, but it was that she said her main motto and plan has always been to live without fear.

I’ve been thinking about this a lot. To live without fear. Fear of getting older, Fear of going out with someone younger. (That’s just in terms of the context of this article) But fear can permeate so many things. Fear is anxiety, fear is worry, fear is stress, fear is in some ways guilt. And all of it is pretty much unnecessary. I’m sure my Dad being infinitely practical and pragmatic would say “Talita, fear is a natural defense” and that “Fear would save neanderthal man from the beast” Yes, its true that fear can give you the edge you need. Like performers going on stage. Or broadcasters getting behind the mic. But that doesn’t take away from the fact that to live without fear is an admirable goal I think, and something that makes me admire this lady (who I can’t remember the name of) who tries to live her life without it.

I once read a Buddhist monk say “My religion, is to live, and die, without regret”

I think this is very similar to living without fear.

Recently I’ve come up against a situation that made me scared, having fear of something is a horrid feeling. And that’s over and on top of the normal anxieties and fears you get as a PR i.e. “Will I get this album’s press sorted in time” and “How the hell am I supposed to fit all this in?”

Fear, like anger, really being scared of something is a horrid feeling that seems to swim in your gut then pop up in your mind. I don’t like it. And what’s more, I’m not the kind of person who would shrivel, I like to summon up courage and go and deal with it.

Is it possible to live without fear?

Sometimes I think I have too much fear and hence safety in my life. When I got mugged last year and they got away with nothing, I think it helped that I’m to a degree always on my guard and that I wasn’t too coy to shout loud, and that I wouldn’t let go of my stuff. Arseholes.

I like to think I don’t put myself in harms way too much.

But surely all these “security” measures enable me to live without fear? Or are they just the opposite?

Anger is always the first emotion that is thought about when it comes to talking about destructive emotions. But I think sometimes that fear is just as bad.

Fear of rejection for example, and fear of what other people think. I wonder if people didn’t feel burdened by these things how much more they might achieve, and how much closer to their dreams they may reach?

After all, if you don’t ever try, then you’ll never know.

My aim is to live without fear.

But I think that I’m still practising.

- - - - - -

I think I'll finish with some awesome Iron Maiden lyrics and say how excited i am about seeing them at Sonisphere this year...

I am a man who walks alone
And when I'm walking a dark road
At night or strolling through the park

When the light begins to change
I sometimes feel a little strange
A little anxious when it's dark.

Fear of the dark,fear of the dark
I have constant fear that something's always near
Fear of the dark,fear of the dark
I have a phobia that someone's always there

Have you run your fingers down the wall
And have you felt your neck skin crawl
When you're searching for the light ?
Sometimes when you're scared to take a look
At the corner of the room
You've sensed that something's watching you.

Have you ever been alone at night
Thought you heard footsteps behind
And turned around and no-one's there ?
And as you quicken up your pace
You find it hard to look again
Because you're sure there's someone there

Watching horror films the night before
Debating witches and folklore
The unknown troubles on your mind
Maybe your mind is playing tricks
You sense,and suddenly eyes fix
On dancing shadows from behind.

Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a constant fear, thought you heard
Fear of the dark, fear of the dark
I have a phobia that someone's always there.

When I'm walking a dark road
I am a man who walks alone

Amadou and Mariam

2010-03-05T00:36:00.000Z

My new found love for Amadou and Mariam

I just thought I would note that although I love metal I love many other types of music and my current new love is Amadou and Mariam. They remind me of a cassette tape I used to have of Habib Koite. And I think they’re fab.

Here’s a youtube:

Istanbul

2010-03-04T19:51:00.000Z

Istanbul

Last year I aimed to go to Buenos Aires, Istanbul and Tibet.

Its nearly a year ago now that I made it to Buenos Aires, and its nearly 6 whole months ago that I made it to Tibet… but I didn’t make it to Istanbul – but this year 2010 I did! And I have already. Tick!

No, really, I don’t think about countries and cities as something to tick off some never ending list. Cause in reality once you’ve visited them once they’re not “done” and you never can see everything - in my whole life in London i've never "done" London and Tibet, for me, will never be “done”- it's a love affair! And Bhutan, so beautiful I will long to go back to for a long time I should think (its very expensive!)

But there’s a lot more to discover! And when an opportunity to go to Istanbul came up with my boyfriend (travelling with my boyfriend and not alone… shocking, I know!) I of course said YES!

Istanbul is a very interesting city, not only because of the geographic setting at the very cusp of Europe and Asia, and of course because of the fascinating architecture and Iznik art, which I did a lot of looking at – but because of the history of the place and for me, the historical religious mixture and the changes between Christianity and Islam, and the relationship between the two.

We were staying right near the Blue Mosque and the Hagia Sofia that sit almost opposite each other, and are both mosques, although once the Hagia Sofia was a Basillica.

Hagia Sofia and Blue Mosque

The Hagia Sofia is fascinating, it is grand, and magnificent and very impressive. With mosaics of Jesus and Mary still on the walls, but crosses that have been removed.

I can't see those crosses

Mihrab in the Hagia Sofia

This is where you get to look out of if you're a girl! So lucky!

There is one angel with a face, whereas the other angel’s faces have been covered over as I believe in Iznik art you cannot represent people or animals.

Which is why you end up with such lovely tiles, which I saw quite a lot of!

The Blue Mosque is not as impressive inside as the Hagia Sofia, but still very beautiful. Unfortunately its surrounded by carpet salesmen claiming the Mosque is closed, and so you have to visit their shop. Errrr…

We visited lots of wonderful places The Hagia Sofia, Dolmabahce Palace, (http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Dolmabahçe_Palace )The Architectural museum, The Roman cistern, The Chora Church and i sat through a call to prayer in one of the mosques which was captivating and lovely.

Roman Cistern

Mary and Joseph having a snog on the wall of the Chora Church 14th C

I said no no no no no - early backing dancer breaking out the attitude, 14th Century religious pop video. Bling.

I was particularly interested in The Topkapi palace and their “The sacred trusts” rooms. In those rooms was not only some very interesting panels explaining some of Koran and the Muslim Old testament beliefs (I have never finished reading the Koran myself, although I intend to one day!) but also Abrahams saucepan, St John the Baptists arm, Somebody else’s turban (sorry! Joseph's! As in he had a coat of many colours!) and The Prophet Mohammed’s cape (sorry, its a blessed mantle). Or at least lots of boxes that may have housed his Blessed mantle.

I like this idea of religious artefacts. Its fun. Humans need tangiable things to look at. But I do think that it was one of the 10 commandements something about idolatry. Oh no wait false idols. So does that include statues of Jesus, St John the Baptists arm, a splinter of the cross, the Turin shroud and the Prophet Mohammed’s cape? Or does it just refer to Pop Idol, Golden calves and the Pantheon of Greek gods in painted marble?

Out of all the religious artefacts I’ve seen I most like St. John the Baptist’s arm at the Topkapi, and the idea of St. Therese’s bones (these are in Liseux) cause they have magic (sorry, not magic, holy) powers that can heal!

Hell yes!

I mean Heavens yes!

I am the worst kind of sceptic. A sarcastic one.

Oh maybe I am the best kind of sceptic. An interested one.

The Topkapi treasury is very impressive too, talking of golden idols, the jewels the sultan wore are amazing!

I especially was a fan of the Topkapi dagger with the HUGE emeralds.

Amazing!

We took a ferry and crossed over to Asia for a few hours. (It takes 20 mins) but I enjoyed the “other side”, it had some interesting markets, and everything seemed to be a bit cheaper than the European side.

Also the view of the hazy skyline of Istanbul that is so recognisable because of the hundreds of Mosques, maybe even thousands is great from the ferry.

The weather wasn’t that great, as it was February, But it was warmer than snowy

England

which was a welcome break, and it felt like I hadn’t seen the sun in forever! So I was very happy to drink apple tea with my face in the sun by the Bosphorous!

Oh, and I suppose I should mention that Apple tea has to be one of my new favourite things and I think I’ll go and make myself a cup right now!

p.s. Please note my little cats of Istanbul photo diary:

Cat on photos

Cat chased up tree by dogs who look very proud of themselves

Two cats, and lots of fish

Paris Paris

2010-02-26T10:55:00.000Z

Paris Paris

I do have a love affair with Paris. I love affair with the people there that I adore (I am vehemently against this sentiment of a lot of British people “Oh I love

France

, but unfortunately it’s full of French” 1. Generally speaking I find French people lovely 2. Some of my family and best friends are French 3. The snooty French are hilarious! Loosen up!) and with the Paris that I see through films like “Les amants du pont neuf” and “Subway” and “Amelie”, and also with the great memories I have from Paris. Plus of course the general French culture and the specific Parisian culture, that is oh-so-more-impressive right? Paris Paris

Anyway, its rare that I have a band play in Paris, for all its delights, it doesn’t attract metal bands all that often, especially not those under a certain level… and that level is generally very different in France to in the UK as French metal culture is a really strange fish.

I’ve been trying to study French metal culture for… a long time now. Probably at least 10 years.

I used to think that for a metal band to work in France they used to have to be beautiful, artistic, or politically active.

That’s what I used to think. And to a certain degree it still holds true, but it’s so much more complex than that. Taking into account the French laws about airplay of songs in French and the national support of French bands before those from abroad, the whole approach is different.

I would like to theorise that it’s something to do with the influence or lack of influence of the 1950’s teenage confidential style rebellion that happened in the States. Unlike in the UK or the US the parental power structure didn’t seem to be undermined to such and extent and the respect for your elders, and the natural chic obeissance seemed to continue unabashed with the new rock n roll / beatnik / free thinkers being acceptable by the artistic French rather than repelled.

But that of course would be too huge of a generalisation, and it’s to a degree an unfounded hypothesis.

I have thought about these things and wondered though. The 80’s seemed to be missing the impact in France that it had in the UK. No Maggie Thatcher. And their best attempt at Heavy metal was … Trust?

You’d think some industrial town like Le Mans or something could have produced a Black Sabbath? Or as opposed to actually going on strike the French workers could have voiced their dispute through thinly veiled satanic references and slowed down, heavied out blues rock?

Come on then you french readers – tell me what happened? What went wrong in the evolution of French heavy metal culture?

Wrong you say? Wrong? There’s nothing wrong with French Heavy metal culture…

Well… it’s true recently there’s been Gojira who’ve risen over all other French heavy metal bands to make it onto the world stage. But still the evolution of Heavy metal culture in France is a puzzle to me.

One that I don’t know any of the answers to, and will continue to make half cocked theories about.

And so the advent of Hellfest comes around. The first proper metal festival in

France

. And it goes from strength to strength every year. But its not in Paris, its in Clisson. Because there really couldn’t possibly be a heavy metal festival in Paris… Paris is way too chic!

But really – I think metal is regarded a way more provincial than it is in the UK with only bands like Ulver really hitting the target with a French Parisian crowd. (Are they metal at all these days?) With their arty political beautiful ex-black metal musings they are perfect for a French audience.
And I was lucky to see them at La Cigale in Paris last week.

And I was lucky to see Evile. One of my first thrash bands to play Paris ever. I had to go and try and get French press there to see them. Ulver and Evile, you couldn’t get two more different bands. One at Glaz’Art – a small venue near Porte de la Villette on the Wednesday night, the other at La Cigale in Pigalle on the Friday night (in a sit down theatre).

Thrash is apparently coming back in France.

I wonder where it went in France.

I know it disappeared into Metalcore and grunge and all sorts in the UK.

I don’t really know where it went in France, because sometimes I’m not sure it was ever there in the first place. As thrash per se.

I’m sure that Metallica could sell out shows in secondes in France, but I suspect they may be termed “Hard Rock” and not metal or thrash at all.

Anyway, the French metal scene will remain a conundrum to me.

Not to mention the appearance of the dreaded hippy. (and I mean with dreads and dogs who juggle)

So, I spent 4 days in Paris last week, flying the thrash (which is pronounced trash in French, which makes it sound like glam and/or rubbish) banner and once again trying to work out

What is French metal culture anyway?

Evile in Paris

Hellfest meets Terrorizer and Gallimard in Paris

Joel birthday celebrations in Paris, bless him - 1st Evile tour, becomes a dad for the first time on the first day of tour, then celebrates his birthday in Paris!

2010-02-26T10:42:00.000Z

Recent travels

So we’re already well into February and I still haven’t written down any new year’s resolutions, and I haven’t written a list of places to visit in 2010 either… not that that’s stopped me travelling – I’m writing this from my second plane journey this year on my way to Istanbul!

My first holiday of the year, and my first holiday since the Himalayas, I’m very excited! And very unprepared! I haven’t done my research!

All I can tell you is that Istanbul was on my list of places to go last year along with Argentina and Tibet. And that I achieved the other two. So when the opportunity came up to go to Istanbul with my boyfriend and his family I said yes please!

But firstly let me tell you about what I’ve been up to so far this year.

Dublin:

I went to Dublin for 1 day in January! How extravagant! I left very early one Saturday morning and came back late the same night for a Gama Bomb photoshoot and interview for Kerrang magazine. It was the preference of the photographer to do the trip all in one day, and the flight to Dublin is under an hour, so I didn’t mind, although travelling is really exhausting and so I felt pretty wiped out the next few days after that.

All I saw of Dublin really was the airport, a café, a pub, another pub, the cold, the river and the airport again. Which was a bit rubbish as far as writing about travel adventures go. It was the second time I’d visited Dublin though, the first time having been with school to take part in the “Model United Nations” conference where I was representing France on the issue of Nuclear Disarmament (I think I was 17). All I can say about Dublin then, was it involved drinking, and snogging two boys, one Irish and one Brazilian, and passing hundreds of notes around the conference which contained suggestive national pastimes of the French to delegates from other schools / countries.

I would like to think my notes worked, as I did end up improving international relations through kissing.

Anyway, my experience of Dublin was limited both times and I apologise to Dubliners for that, as I know your city is beautiful and I was woefully sidetracked both visits.

Anyway, Gama Bomb – the photoshoot was for a Kerrang feature on them after the release of their new album “Tales from The Grave in Space” which we (Earache) firstly released for free last November (2009). The day was very cold! Our photographer was the lovely Ashley Maile, and everything went very smoothly I’m delighted to say. Gama Bomb are one of those bands who I’m lucky to work with, as they are a right bunch of characters and Philly is a real card, who knows the difference between a trilby and a fedora, and could tell you how best to cut a figure in a waistcoat. Which maybe aren’t the normal traits you would associate with the frontman of a thrash band?

Anyway, first trip out of the UK in 2010 done and dusted.

Festivals 2009 / Festivals 2010

2010-01-18T12:33:00.000Z

Last year i went to 8 festivals:
Hammerfest (April)
Legacy festival (May)
Rock Hard festival (May)
Download festival (June)
Hellfest (June)
Metal Town (June)
Sonisphere festival (July)
Bloodstock festival (August)

(+ Damnation)

And that seemed to me quite a lot - more than i've ever done in one summer before.
This year, 2010 i think may be even better (worse!)
And I'm looking forward to it already!

Advert in Kathmandu

2010-01-18T12:13:00.000Z

I've been meaning to post these photos for a while, my friend in Nepal sent them to me. All the time i was in Kathmandu i kept trying to take a photo of this big advertising board at a crossroads there saying "China Forever" with a big picture of the Potala palace. But Kathmandu traffic doesn't really let you stop for photos. Kindly my friend Sunil did it for me! Thank you!

Why did i want a photo of these hoardings? Well, its just a reminder of the China tourism machine, that is brazenly promoting the Potala and Tibet as a part of the great Chinese empirical history. Its as much bollocks as the advert above it! If not more!

Still wanna go back though!

Last years resolutions

2010-01-18T12:04:00.000Z

I like making New Year's resolutions. I like having a plan.
I tried to have a plan last year in 2009. Not only did i have 7 New years resolutions, but i also had a London paper horoscope for 2009 which i thought was a good plan to try and stick to.

SO - how did my plans go?

I agree, i think 2010 was a fortunate year...

But i didn't set up my own business, but i did plan some long-haul holidays...

I didn't find my soulmate, and i didn't fall pregnant...

But, hell it was a good plan right? Haha!

So how did i do with my own resolutions that weren't according to the stars?

I did visit Tibet and Buenos Aires, but i didn't visit Istanbul.

I didn't do much jogging. Its crap.

I did do my hip exercises. Sometimes.

I never passed my skating assessments.

I didn't email a radio demo every fortnight. (But i really should have done)

And i still don't have a paid radio show...

BUT you know, even if you don't achieve all of your plans, its good to have some goals, and a list.

I like ticking things off, and i like having things to look forward to.

So now i have to think about 2010. I'm not relying on the London paper horoscope this year. Instead i've bought a 2010 horoscope guide for £5.99. Surely the extra £5.99 will mean that its all BOUND to come true right?

But now after having been to Tibet, i need to work out where i want to go this year, as after having done something you've been waiting to do for so long its difficult to know where to go next!

At least i know i still have to get to Istanbul!

Talita

2010-01-18T12:01:00.000Z

I've been meaning to write something about my name for a long time now, as i'm always getting asked about it, and its a subject that's obviously gonna be of interest to me.
So, i was named from a book of the stars my Dad had for navigation, that he'd picked up in Finland - or it was a Finnish book of stars - one or the other.
My brother Rigel, and sister Capella are also named after stars.
My Dad always told me my name meant "Third leap of the little gazelle" but actually it is the third leap in a row of stars that are called the "Three leaps of the little gazelle"

My Dad sent this to me last year when he found it online:
"In addition to the famous seven stars of Ursa Major there are three pairs of stars that mark the feet of the bear. The Arabs imagined these as forming the tracks of a leaping gazelle. The pair Nu and Xi Ursae Majoris are called Alula Borealis and Alula Australis. The word Alula comes from an Arabic phrase meaning ‘first leap’; the distinctions ‘northern’ (Borealis) and ‘southern’ (Australis) are added in Latin. The second leap is represented by Lambda and Mu Ursae Majoris, known as Tania Borealis and Tania Australis, while the third leap is represented by Iota and Kappa Ursae Majoris, although Iota alone bears the name Talitha, from the Arabic meaning ‘third’."

I realised a couple of years ago that 'Mark the Evangelist' wrote in the Gospel of Mark:
"And Jesus took the damsel by the hand and said to her "Talitha Kumi" which means "Little Girl I say unto thee arise."
So in the story of Jesus' miracles he brought a girl back from the dead by saying "Talitha Kumi" (although she may have just been sleeping... ;-)
Little girl, get up!

Here's St. Mark. Hiya!

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Mark_the_Evangelist

Talitha (Kumi) is Aramaic; Talitha means 'Little girl' - Aramaic is the language that Jesus spoke.

Pretty looking eh? I don't speak it, its a "dead language". But i find it fascinating - and would really like to see what Talita (Talitha - they're the same basically) would look like written down.

So...bears, gazelles, Aramaic, Arabic, the number 3, dead girls
and a star in the heel of the great bear, Ursa Major.

I assume that "Talita" as opposed to "Talitha" is the Finnish or Nordic version, but that i don't know.

So this is what i do know about my name and where it comes from.

And no, my parents weren't hippies.

And any other information always appreciated!

Can't stop, won't stop - no rest for the Wicked!

2010-01-01T12:58:00.000Z

I hadn't blogged about "normal" life since my return from the Himalayas really, not because i wasn't having a normal life, but because i was too busy having my "normal" life...
So here's a few photos from my life since the return that i've neglected to talk about before....

2 Days after getting home from the Himalayas my dear friend Myra arrived and we whizzed off with Lucy to see Cauldron with Wolf. I missed the whole Wolf/Cauldron tour apart from the very last date which happened to be in.... Dudley. 2 very different worlds, Buddhist Kingdoms and Heavy metal, but i love them both!

Weekend after the Himalayas! Gatecrashing my sister's 40th birthday with some of my best buddies!

Caught in the Crossfire Halloween party where i DJed with Lady Starlight

www.caughtinthecrossfire.com

Paris where i visited my sister and her family and my dear Cecile!

The Mike Alexander Memorial shows which i helped run with Ol from Evile in Leeds

Leeds show with Joan, Mike's Mum

London show with all the bands that played - Seregon, Mutant, Gama Bomb and the covers team!

Earache Xmas party 2009!

Seamus - the best dyslexic Santa ever!

Thanks Myra for helping me out with the Mike shows, and Lucy for the party and all of my friends for being so ace!! x

Crisis at Christmas

2009-12-31T02:54:00.001Z

This Christmas is the first i have spent in central London ever. So the perfect time to try something i had been meaning to do for a long time (and i'm sure everyone says that) - and that's "help the homeless at Christmas". A bit of a cliche maybe, but for a long time i've felt that the music business is way too cynical and self obsessed with the narcissistic and frankly unnecessary bureaucracy and mechanisms that forget the human element - and for me, especially coming from a background of doing Youth work and working with Young Carers sometimes it all feels a bit empty.

So i can safely say that it was with totally selfish motives i signed up to work at Crisis at Christmas this year. I signed up for 3 days 23, 26 and 27 December. Unfortunately i had a chest infection after all the hedonism of recent weeks and so didn't go on the 23rd. But i ended up going in on the last day the 29th too - so 3 days it was. And i think if i hadn't missed the 23rd i probably wouldn't have been ready for Christmas at my house - you know they say charity begins at home, and also i don't think i would have made friends with my new buddy Tara.

Crisis:

"Crisis is the national charity for single homeless people. We are dedicated to ending homelessness by delivering life-changing services and campaigning for change"

http://www.crisis.org.uk/gallery.php/14/crisis-christmas-2009#/gallery-image-large/14/DSC_7233.jpg

Crisis says:

"Homelessness is an isolating and destructive experience and homeless people are some of the most vulnerable and socially excluded in our society.Homelessness is a problem throughout the UK, although it is more prevalent in urban centres, especially in London.Homelessness is about more than rooflessness. A home is not just a physical space, it also has a legal and social dimension. A home provides roots, identity, a sense of belonging and a place of emotional wellbeing. Homelessness is about the loss of these. Homelessness is costly to the individual, society and the state."

http://www.crisis.org.uk/

A crisis - a crucial or decisive point or situation; a turning point. An emotionally stressful event or traumatic change in a person's life. A point in a story or drama when a conflict reaches its highest tension and must be resolved.

Its actually quite relaxing to go and volunteer somewhere where Im not in charge and not responsible for what's going on. All i had to do was do the jobs allocated with a smile on my face, which mainly meant guarding entrances and exits and chatting. It was no trouble and not hard.

In fact, there were a lot of volunteers there - more than the "guests" at times it seemed. I chose the Hammersmith Day centre because it was closest to me, but in actual fact it occurred to me when faced with the reality that a Day centre is possibly the opposite of what's needed - a night centre would be better! But there was Crisis night centres too... just not the Hammersmith one - and to be honest, that i was before i understood a little bit more.

I'm a chatty person, if i wasn't i would have difficulty doing a radio show. So its natural for me to chat chat and make friends, and it doesn't bother me if they have a roof over their heads at night or not, its just a learning curve and maybe a way to spread some positivity.

I've been very lucky to travel a lot this year, and everywhere i go i like to try and understand. I think its normal to want to understand, and it was no different with "guests" at Crisis. I don't want to fall into the volunteer trap who's desperate for juicy stories of hardship, but of course as soon as i made friends its normal to want to know about each other, and wonder how this happened. I don't think anyone would choose to be on the streets. But from what i understand, the longer you are on the streets, the more difficult it is to get off them.

I suppose i should examine the terms i use, and people use to describe the homeless.

The Homeless... just that term - ideas of a huge advancing or stationary army with fingerless gloves?

One of the Crisis guests and my new friends i'll call him "A" for the purposes of this blog told me that some of his friends call themselves Tramps. But he doesn't say he's a tramp, he says he's unfortunate. He's just had a run of bad luck and been unfortunate with the way things have turned out.

I say my new friends but it is very much a case of "us" and "them". You can't avoid the fact that there is a huge gulf between volunteers and guests. Us smarmy do-gooders and the people who are actually facing shit. Its easy really to take time out from University hols, office hols, Xmas hols to volunteer. I'm sure everyone volunteering was touched by the people they met and the things they saw. But the volunteers have the volunteer room that they go back to, and as we were reminded in the briefing everyday a fully stocked fridge to go home to.

"They" have no home.

Every time i hear "they" and "them" in situations like this alarm bells ring. "Otherness" is a concept which permeates thought in situations of divison and doesn't aid moving forward in communication.

But as we were told many times - "don't give out your phone number or personal details to guests, here at Crisis this week you have a safety net... outside in the big wide world you don't"

It's inevitable however much you don't want the chasm to exist between "guests" and "volunteers", that it stands large in the room like an elephant no one points out; its there and we all know it. Volunteers might feel guilty about their affluent lifestyle, guests may feel embarrassed. There's a whole minefield of potential faux-pas to trip you up.

However, the best thing to do is to go and be yourself and ignore that elephant as best you can, and in my opinion bring humour to the situation as much as possible.

Homeless in French "Sans Abri" - Without shelter. I suppose metaphorically and physically its true.

I remember watching a movie at University when studying the Nouveau vague or 80's cinema called "Sans toit ni loi" (without roof or law) which kept coming back to me this week. That film painted such a bleak horrid picture, with such a sense of hopelessness its hard not to think of it in terms of the people i've met and worry

There are a few "guests" that stand out to me who i had the pleasure of talking to a lot. And i can honestly say that i won't forget them. Firstly theres "J". A chap who Tara and I spoke to first of all. He appears now in retrospect slightly shady, but very well versed in politics and geography and economics. Mr. Commerce.

He said he taught himself English from his 2 dictionaries he took with him when he left "The Soviet Union" English-Russian, and Russian-English. He sat with his 2 dictionaries in the library with a copy of Newsweek and TIME every day he said looking up words, and gradually learning to speak English.

He taught himself Dutch when he got to The Netherlands from sitting in a train station, and asking passengers waiting for their train to help him read a paragraph of the Dutch newspaper.

He taught himself French the same way.

He has a flat in The Netherlands he said and will go back there soon.

With a totally different temperament, and little to no interest in politics or commerce i suspect, unless to sell his paintings is "A"

*A has a broken arm cause some arseholes jumped on it whilst he was asleep in Covent Garden. They kicked him in the face too. He likes being tickled. He likes talking about his paintings. Someone told him that he has real talent. He likes talking about posh people and taking the piss. He likes just chitchatting.

He sleeps rough every night. He smiles all the time (pretty much). He likes a bit of drama.

He kicked a bag of rubbish cause someone woke him up one morning too early. The bag of rubbish was full of bottles and he stubbed his toe. It still hurts.

The day i didn't go to Crisis, i wondered about him, and looked forward to seeing him again, just like *D

Here's my (bad) drawing of him:

What a sweetheart. First chatted about wrestling. Luckily because of Landphil i know a bit about it. *D likes the Undertaker

Especially his fight with Kane and when he came in on a bike.
*D loves the trains, that's where he sleeps at night. Trains or night buses.
He keeps himself to himself because he can't trust other people. Other homeless people steal his stuff he says. He has long fingernails that i looked at too much.
*D tells us he got into debt, owed too many people money, and can't face them now. I told him he should declare bankruptcy and sort it out. He said he thinks he's going to go and visit his parents for New Year, but he's scared they're mad at him. I hope he can sort it out, i hope i told him the right thing - visit Citizens advice bureau!
He's a real sweet guy, so clearly aware of the dangers on the streets
Although According to *G of A+G it's not as bad as i might think it is, if you know what you're doing.
I didn't realise how shelters worked until speaking to *G. There's 30 places, in a different venue every night in West London. A+G have a map. And 30 people turn up at 8pm have food and can sleep indoors on the floor of a church/hall/community centre. There are normally 10 people waiting outside to see if someone doesn't turn up. If you don't turn up by 8pm you lose your place.
You get turfed out at 7am and then A+G make a coffee last a long time in Maccy D's. A tea in a greasy spoon. The boredom, G tells me is a killer.
G was doing a degree in philosophy when he faced a series of unfortunate events. I dont know the nature of these events i never asked. But whether its because he's ashamed of his position or its just his way or ashamed of what happened or of the big elephant in the room G doens't look me in the eye alot, even though we spend a long time chatting over a few days. I tell him that i am curious about people everywhere, that i love to travel and find out about new cultures, and that sometimes i wonder if being street-wise translates as a culture, and if he can afford to look at people with curiousity. He tells me he tries to stay positive and not to pigeon hole or stereotype. Tries not to say "this person did this to me, and this person and this person, and they're all from the same place so that place must be bad". He grew up in West London, and when i ask him about safety on the streets, and tell him about what happened to me in Buenos Aires, and how i've thought a lot about it and if you know your territory you're always less vulnerable than a new comer - he told me its not as bad as i think out there and started talking to me about homeless people not being all bad. I said i didn't mean homeless people being bad, i meant the guys tanked up coming out the pub at 11pm looking for a fight. He told me that was why he always makes it by 8pm to the shelter, because its safer indoors at night time.
Without giving me any details - i didn't ask for any, or want any - we talk about what a short slippery slope of unfortunate events it is to end up on the streets. I've decided its a lot closer possibility than most people think.
And it seems to me, that the main thing, the main barrier which protects you is family.
When the going gets tough, its rare to find someone in local councils who will go out of their way for you, days of queuing make no difference, especially to a single male on a housing list.
Thats where irrespective of the elephant in the room, volunteers at places like Crisis can help, because its not a question of queuing, its a question of volunteers doing what they can, and as opposed to worrying about the chasm inside the centre, its more about working on the chasm that exists outside the shelter, as i can see without some of "our reality" the "street reality" becomes further and further away from hope, and what is needed to get off the streets.

Crisis was well worth doing, i will hope to do it again next year, not just because it made me think, but because there's a good bunch of people both sides of that chasm, and its well worth keeping your eyes open and not being ignorant to it, especially at Christmas*

So, Crisis! Thanks for letting me be involved! And for making new friends
:-)

*see other post!

Winter Solstice, Seasons Greetings and Merry Christmas

2009-12-30T22:55:00.001Z

December 21st 2009 was the Winter Solstice - the shortest day of 2009. When the earth's axial tilt is furthest away from the sun, and when "traditionally" in Great Britain we would celebrate Yuletide....

But what is tradition? How many years does it take to make a tradition?

In 46 BC Julius Caesar established Dec 25th as the date of the Winter Solstice (now we know exactly what day is the shortest), since then the date has moved with varying calendars established by the church, and its strange to think, when we think about Christmas and the date of the solstice, that its not just the date of the pagan festivals that Christmas is celebrated on, but the existence of the date that is 25th December on the calendar which was dictated by the church.

I ask what makes a tradition - now its a tradition that Santa Claus wears red - and we've all heard that this was because Coca Cola dressed him in red - but Sinterklaas in dutch folklore wore red robes and Tomte, who started to deliver Xmas presents in the 1840's in Denmark wore a red cap. The urban legend that Santa Claus wore red because of Coca-Cola is not infact totally true apparently Santa Claus wore a variety of colours prior to the Coca-Cola campaign but our current depiction of Santa Claus is probably more thanks to this chap:

http://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Thomas_Nast

Anyway, what makes a tradition?

Here we are on the 25th December celebrating Christmas or Christ's Mass, the birth of the Messiah, Jesus Christ, the Christian God born as man from a virgin. But as we dont know his birth, and as all religions subsume other religious practises of the region that went before, Jesus was born on December 25th just as Coca-Cola is associated with Santa Claus.

Old festivals such as Jul/Yule are part of how we now celebrate Christmas - feasting, singing etc.

But I can't help but feel a bit fraudulent

A tradition doesn't have to date back centuries, but to someone who isn't Christian, its hard to tell what we're actually celebrating, don't get me wrong i'm grateful for a break. But i like to do it right.

Mean Geimhridh, Celtic Midwinter "The point of roughness" is when in Welsh mythology Rhiannon (The horse Godess) was supposed to give birth to Pyderi. Interestingly enough Pyderi (after disappearing) appeared outside some stables.

Mummer's Day - on Dec 26 - you could blacken your faces - Wren day on Dec 26th in Ireland - you could kill a wren and take it from house to house stopping for feasting

Alban Arthan - a Neodruidic English festival from 18thC gave gifts to the needy

Yule - from the Vikings and Germanic cultures began on the lunar midwinter and culminated on the arrivale of Juletid on midwinter. The Yule celebrations amalgamated alot of the traditions from all over Europe. A Yule log was burnt for Thor and feasting would continue as long as the log was burning (talk about heart burn).

Wiccan Yule, which i would love to explore more, is i suppose a neopagan amalgamation now. It is observed as one of the 8 solar holidays or Sabbat. Celebrated as the rebirth of the Great God and the newborn sun.

So here we have a load of festivals all together to basically try and give hope in the dark and cold time (i assume realistically the opposite should be celebrated in Australia!). A missing birth certificate of Yeshua of Nazareth (what would they put for the father anyway?), an adopted date of 25th December and some adopted rituals - yule log, holly, ivy, mistletoe, giving gifts - celebration in a Bacchian style, celebration in a Pagan style and now celebration in a commercial style. Its funny to think that in Early USA in Massachusetts Puritans band Christmas because it was too heathen.

Now we have an amalgam not only of Pagan, Christian, Celtic celebrations but also a mixture of stories from Dickens and films and all sorts that make Christmas what it is now. Not to mention adverts, commercial pressure and family pressure. (family love!)

Strange to think that commerical pressure now has the same effect on us that religion once did.

I like the idea of Alban Arthuan - the end of the month of the Elder tree, and the start of the month of the birch. The Elder and Birch stand at the entrance to Annwn the Celtic Underworld where all life was formed. What i would do with an Elder and a birch i dont know? Burn them like a yule log?

These things are what you make of them i suppose. In every sugary sickening Christmas movie they talk about "The spirit of Christmas". The spirit of Christmas  seems to me to be the spirit of many things and the spirit of none.

December 8th this year was Bodhi Day, or Rohatsu. (Beginning of every December) The day that celebrates Buddha's enlightenment under the Bodhi tree in 596 BCE. He sat under the Bodhi tree for 8 days and on the morning of the 8th day he realized that everyone suffers due to ignorance, and that ignorance can be overcome through the Eightfold path.

I don't know what ignorance at Christmas does but maybe on this day that most people have off work and that is relevant in so many paths, where familial and financial situations are highlighted it is important to remember those who are less fortunate to try to give hope for the future.

The Eightfold path is:

DivisionEightfold Path factorsAcquired factorsWisdom (Sanskrit: prajñā, Pāli: paññā)1. Right view9. Right knowledge2. Right intention10. Right liberationEthical conduct (Sanskrit: śīla, Pāli: sīla)3. Right speech
4. Right action
5. Right livelihood
Concentration (Sanskrit and Pāli: samādhi)6. Right effort
7. Right mindfulness
8. Right concentration

Bodhi Day is maybe the birth of Buddhism (although its origins were laid down way before), the day where Buddha suggested a way out from the endless cycle of birth, death and rebirth and became Enlightened

Strange that the way out that most of us are offered today is at the shops, and especially at Christmas.

Anyway, whatever and however you celebrate i hope you have a peaceful, hopeful and enjoyable time. With or without faith, but hopefully with feasting and maybe a Yule log.

And maybe you may enjoy SSS's witty Xmas ditty

http://rapidshare.com/files/321679834/SSS_-_Merry_ChristmaSSS.mp3


Bodhi tree in Bhutan, Sept 2009

Elder tree

and Birch tree

And a whole load of Holly

A month since the Himalayas

2009-11-15T18:32:00.000Z

I assumed that when i returned from the Himalayas i would have time to think. To digest comfortably in my mind the wonderful things i'd seen like savouring a great chocolate and rasperry pudding. But oh no! Life doesn't stop so you can enjoy your memories... until you're old and can hardly remember them anymore!

I've pretty much written about the whole trip as much as i can without naming names of people it might jeopardise and without boring you to death too much i hope!

But i know there's a lot more to say and that eventually i'll think it all through.

I recieved this postcard in an email from that charming dog that bit me in Kathmandu. Nice to see he's thinking of me and survived to tell the tale (tail?)

I've stayed in contact with the people i met in Tibet, Bhutan and Kathmandu, and with all the people i went with. I believe one of them was responsible for this postcard above, and for these two videos below; which are loads better than the stuff i filmed!
So thanks Peter and Jill!

Tibet

Bhutan

My last morning in Tibet. Heading home.

2009-11-07T17:45:00.000Z

I woke up really early desperate to make the most of my last few hours in Tibet only to find that the front doors to the hotel were locked and i couldn't get out!

I went up on the hotel roof and stood looking at the Potala in the dark:

We had to leave at 7.30am. I eventually made it out of the hotel at 6.45, put my hood up, hurried down the pre-dawn roads past the armed guards, past the Tibetan lady roadsweepers, past a couple of people on their way to or from the Jokhang, past the empty market stalls to the Jokhang itself. What a site before dawn. I wanted to do another "Kora" of the temple before i left; with all the Tibetans and without the hustle and bustle of the markets later on.

With my hood up i was so obviously a westerner as i didn't want to disturb people in their morning ritual i just wanted to breathe it in and enjoy my last few hours in Tibet. I kept my camera on video round my neck in the hopes that people may understand what the Jokhang is like in the morning, especially those who don't have the chance to get to Tibet, because of visas or because of exile. So apologies for this video being a bit ropey, but i didn't want it to be obvious that i was filming because it would have changed the dynamics of the situation, and also if i got seen by the troops i would have got in big trouble.

Note the sounds of the Tibetans doing full prostrations and the prayer wheels they spin and the silence of the Jokhang before the dawn.

I got back to the hotel in time for a quick cup of (green)tea before getting in the bus to the airport. I still can't believe it was over so quickly. We arrived back to the heat in Kathmandu, had a swim, went shopping in Thamel, ate a plate of chips, avoided the hotel dog, managed to pack everything up in one bag and then had a huge 6 course meal sitting on cushions on the floor with everyone from the group. Then before you know it it's Goodbye Himalayas i'm off back to London.

My birthday party in Lhasa, Tibet

2009-11-07T14:12:00.000Z

October 9th, Roof of the world, Lhasa, Tibet
Thanks so much to all my group and my Tibetan friends for giving me such a great day!
Here's some photos:

My Tibetan dress (no apron cause i'm not married - boooo!)

My cake box!! Nong Nong!!

Look at my amazing cake! Holy shit! Yes!

And i got a crown!

And i got a singing flower candle!

And i got to eat it!!!! (not all to myself of course...)

My birthday outside the Potala... still wearing the crown, full of cake and at the top of the world!!

Thank you so much David and Mountain Kingdoms, all the Tibetan contingent (no names!), Tessa, Toni, Jayne, Peter, Jill, Ruth, Flea, Rob, Graham, Helene and David

p.s. yes you can still get very excited about birthday cake at 29 years old!

Afternoon Jokhang. (my birthday part 2)

2009-11-07T13:32:00.000Z

I had been told that the Jokhang was and still is the beating heart of Tibet.

Pilgrims prostrate themselves in front of its squat square exterieur, Tibetans continuously do laps of the temple as a "kora" in a clockwise direction.

During its history its seen many Dalai Lamas, witnessed many festivals with butter sculptures and thousands of monks and pilgrims, and i'm sure as it does today seen many market stalls - But then unlike now it wasn't situated on a big tiled Chinese square. Complete with 60th anniversary celebratory flowers and 4 units of soldiers.

I first visited the Jokhang the night before. It was colder than i expected, and the square was lit by really orange street lamps, and populated by so many soldiers it was almost a scary experience. Its a shame the "heart" of Tibetans religious passion has to be so heavily armed. Apparently many Chinese walk in an anti-clockwise direction round the Jokhang to show irreverance, or just because they dont care. (I saw this many times) Apparently there are so many guards because there have been incidents where Kampas have attacked Chinese for their anti-clockwise behaviour. I would say the whole of Tibet seems heavily populated by armed guards, and the concentration of them seems directly related to how important the place is to the Tibetans.

As time goes on unfortunately my trip becomes more like a memory and less like real life.

So to return to the Jokhang the afternoon of my birthday, the sky still blue as forever i went with the other tourists inside the Jokhang. There are less pilgrims and prostrations during the day time than there is in the evening or the morning, as i guess people are at work. There were once again many Chinese parties of tourists. When you step inside you realise its like a courtyard within a courtyard. And a lot of it is being worked on. Or demolished and rebuilt.

The inner room is square with giant paintings on the walls and different buddhas housed in each room around the periphery. In one of the rooms is the statue that the Chinese Princess brought from China with her - this is particularly popular with the Chinese tourists.

In the outer courtyard the pickaxes are weilded on the roof of the building being altered. And on the rest of roof you get the most fantastic view.

I can imagine that the Jokhang was once teeming with monks. I dont know the exact numbers but at the Jokhang that afternoon there were only a handful of monks. One of them was very friendly in front of the big statue of Buddha and Padhmasambava in the inner temple. He was very smiley, but the atmosphere quickly changed as this young (maybe 20?) Chinese guy stood right next to him and listened and questioned everything he said to me. It was unreal how aggressive this guys whole stance was. I only wanted to ask the monk about Buddhism, i was well aware i shouldn't ask anything provocative, especially not with a guy like that listening in. I felt very sorry for the monks in the Jokhang, not only are they not allowed to wear normal robes anymore, and no only have their numbers dwindled from the thousands to under a hundred, but they are caged and spied on - its horrendous really. On my way out of the temple there was a door ajar on the right hand side and i peered in, and it was full of led lights and buttons and cctv equipment. Like a big panel you see in James Bond movies to trigger a nuclear explosion. Stuck in the Jokhang temple to spy on people. Charming.

I'm trying not to be hard on the Chinese and i understand the situation is so fraught and difficult. And i know its not all Chinese, i've said all that in my previous blogs, but it all comes across very much as if the temples and traditions of the Tibetans are only tolerated a) for tourism and b) to aid oppression
Anyway, back to my day!

The views from the roof of the Jokhang are really spectacular, and its where i saw the few monks that still inhabit the temple. They even posed for some photos with Chinese tourists.

The Jokhang is surrounded by market stalls and shops, and i was determined to get my sister a birthday present whilst in Lhasa.

"Lookey lookey" the ladies call out as you walk past. I dislike being the tourist in the market, and such an obvious target, but with Tess it was quite a lot of fun, and i soon saw myself parting with money for a load of bracelets for my friends and just as i was heading back to the hotel, a spent all the rest of my Yen on a necklace for my sister. I still have no idea if i got a good deal, but i had a lot of fun bargaining for it, and my sister likes it - here's the lady i bought it off - i met her whole family in the process!

I went into some of the shops surrounding the Jokhang thinking i would get my sister something there, but as you walk further into the shop, you see that they are clearly Chinese establishments and so i walked out. Again, and again.

So, Potala, Norbulingka, Jokhang and shopping on my birthday and next i had a "suprise" to get ready for in my traditional Tibetan costume.

Vice Heavy Metal Roadshow part 1

2009-11-06T22:32:00.000Z

I'm only in this vbs.tv documentary ain't i!!

Thanks Iano! x

Turning 29 at the top of the world (my birthday in Tibet part 1)

2009-10-27T15:48:00.000Z

Turning 29 at the top of the world.

It’s a once in a lifetime chance – to go into your 30th year in one of the highest cities in the world – Lhasa, Tibet.

I’ve been meaning to write about it for a while, since its 2 weeks since I’ve been back now. But writing about it means that I have to accept it’s all over, and I don’t want to! I’m in denial!

I wanted to write about my two friends Brain and Mike first too, because both of those tragedies came before this, and my birthday, despite the occupation, and the tragic history of Tibetans and despite the death of my friends, my birthday was a one off, the day was perfect. And I think you can only appreciate its perfection when you know what had gone before and how sad id felt.

I’d already realised that being sad and wearing a frown didn’t help anyone, least of which the Tibetans. “Gross national happiness begins with a smile” they say in Bhutan, and it’s a great attitude. And how can you not smile when you wake up 29, the sky is that deep blue you’ve seen in fairytale photos of Tibet dotted with a few graphic art clouds that only illustrate how high up you are and how big the sky is, and how underneath that panorama the Potala palace with the morning sun shining on it majestically, is still and will always be the dream and the symbol of Tibet and the hopes for what was and still could be. And today, my birthday was my lucky day, the day I got to visit the Potala, home of the Dalai Lamas, built by King Songsten Gampo, finished 12 years after he died in secret, holder and keeper of so many secrets, great library (although most of the writings now destroyed), great place of learning and great home. Just great.

But not just the Potala, today I would also go to the Norbulingka and the Jokhang. The Norbulingka I’d always been fascinated with as it was the Dalai Lama’s summer palace and from reading the biography of the Dalai Lama (14th) I knew how much HH loved the place, and I’d read about its beauty in the Summer when the Dalai Lama and all the officials and government would change their address from the Potala to the Norbulingka. I wanted to see if his Koi Carp are still in their pond or whether they’d been eaten!! Then I would get to go to the Jokhang. The most important temple in Tibet. Where the Dalai Lama became the Dalai Lama.

So you can imagine, I was very excited. I’d come to terms with the difficulties in Tibet, and the contradictions, and the necessity to just continue with life – well as much as you can come to terms with it in a few days, and I knew that I was now going to experience the Potala, which as the national symbol of Tibet, was also the place of most propaganda and mystery, and changes in the actual time line & history!

In order to get into the Potala, as with any of the temples in Tibet you need a permit. Nowadays the Potala has more restrictions, which left me waking up the morning of my birthday from a nightmare about rushing round a dark temple, missing all the things that had the potential to move me, and change my life and being pushed out the door without having seen the most important parts!

As I lay in bed in my Tibetan hotel (run by Tibetans) early that morning, I knew how totally lucky and jammy I was, it was still dark outside, and I opened my birthday card from my Mum and Dad, and I felt very grateful to them for enabling me to get to Lhasa on my birthday as I had hoped and planned for such a long time. What? You don’t honestly think that I could afford to do this trip as Earache’s press manager without help from my Mum and Dad do you? Pah!

I’d gone with my Tibetan friend to the dress shop near the hotel the night before when we arrived in Lhasa, and bought my traditional Tibetan outfit (but without the apron – they’re only for MARRIED women! Pah!) I had planned to wear my new Tibetan gear out that night on my birthday, as I had a feeling there was something planned and I think it’s really cool to wear that country’s national dress when you’re there. Its not the same as wearing a band t-shirt of the band you’ve gone to see at one of their shows, and hang the embarrassment factor a lot of people in Tibet (Tibetans) still wear traditional dress, and I hope that its taken as a compliment that I would want to aswell.

I didn’t want to wear my new silk outfit round the Potala though, as I knew that there would be a lot of stairs and probably quite a bit of dust.

(i'm wearing heart shaped sun glasses to show love)

We got to the Potala, and there were already a lot of Tibetans doing a Kora (circumambulation) round the Potala. These days getting inside the Potala is restricted access, as I mentioned already, but this is also applicable to Tibetans, maybe even moreso from what I understand. Although there were more Chinese tourists visiting the Potala than anyone else, with loud Chinese guides (probably explaining a Chinese version of history) there were one or two Tibetan families I saw going round too. You get stopped at the entrance by a Chinese lady sitting at a fold up table who looks thoroughly bored. She checked our passports, our visa, and our permit to visit the Potala. Then we were ushered through a room with cabinets containing confiscated liquids in all forms, and even an oxygen tank through a brightly lit room with an x-ray machine that x-rayed our bags. Then we went through the outside garden, which has a few buildings that used to be part of the administrative heart of the Tibetan government and affords a magnificent view of the Potala. The gardens were in bloom, the sky was blue, and Potala hunkered like a huge white stone giant in front of us. It was pretty exciting. It’s difficult for Tibetan guides I should think. Not only to be heard over the shrill Chinese tour guides, but also to not lose hope when visiting such important historic landmarks that are getting a very different take on history from an invading (sorry, liberating!) nation’s guides. I felt awe and reverence at the majesty and the weight of history going up the stairs of the Potala. I don’t know if every group there felt the same. But maybe it doesn’t matter, maybe its enough that there are people from China real, taking an interest. Who knows?

Anyway, you may already know, there are quite a lot of steps up to the Potala. Its not wheel chair friendly, its not hobble bad leg friendly. But at the same time, it’s not so bad. I didn’t really find it much of a problem. It is quite high up though so you get out of breath quicker than you think you should. And after 3 big flights of stairs the little concrete bench is welcome before hopping up the rest. By the little concrete bench these is a tree, all through the tree is lumps of cotton strewn amongst the branches. I had a feeling what I thought these might be, and I was correct – prayer flags have been disallowed in the Potala now, and these funny clumps of cotton were/are the Tibetan people’s way round that new rule. So we carry on up the steps.

There are only about 20 rooms open to tourists of the Potala out of its 500 or so. No one seems to know what’s in the other 480 rooms. No one knows how much of the treasure and the library still exists. Even the monks and Dalai Lamas didn’t frequent all the rooms under Tibetan rule, so one can only hope that some of the original rooms and contents survive in the rest of the palace. After all the Potala was “saved” from destruction by a Chinese premier named Zhou Enlai who supposedly deployed his own troops to protect it.

Our papers are checked again, and we go up more stairs into the courtyard below the Dalai Lama’s quarters (the rooms that are painted yellow on the outside of the Potala)

The timer starts from when we enter the Dalai Lama’s quarters from the top of the wooden stairs.

We get 1 hour and 1 hour only to do the 20 rooms. If we do the tour in more than one hour the company our guide works for will lose their ability to take a group to the Potala the next time. They’ll have their permit revoked. The race is on. I don’t like this pressure. There are people in my tour group who are slow, there are people in my tour group that don’t listen when we have things explained, and ask to have it all explained again. There are people in my tour group who go totally off subject and ask about things that aren’t relevant. None of this would normally bother me, but we are about to enter the Potala palace.

A place I have waited to see for a very long time. (I’m sure they’ve wanted to visit for a long time too) but we are on a fucking time limit! Man, I don’t want to get stressed out here – but here’s 20 rooms or so full of the treasures of Tibetan history and culture, where HHDL himself lived as a child, where he received state visitors, where he walked, prayed and pondered what to do about the advancing Chinese, where he stood on the roof with his telescope and watched his people go about their business in Lhasa around the Jokhang and in the market square – we’re about to enter the Potala palace – one of the most amazing places on earth, and we have a TIME LIMIT!!! Ughhhh!!! I tried not to worry, but as we hurried through rooms, and missed explanations I did think about my nightmare in the early hours of that morning and it wasn’t far off. But at least I was in the Potala. I saw the Dalai Lama’s apartments. I’d heard that the Chinese were keen to have them on display to show how bourgeois he was as if this would impact the Tibetan people’s opinion of him. I did see a lot of the Chinese groups stop specifically at his radio (also in the Norbulingka) and make a big thing of it. Really when you’d visited a lot of temples already the grandness of the apartments didn’t seem all that much. They look very much like the inside of a temple. Golden coloured statues, Red, blue, green, yellow. Tara, Manjushri, Avaloketishvara, Amitayus, Medicine Buddha etc. Thangkas and a little single bed.

I was worried. Worried about the time we had, worried about what I could and couldn’t ask our guide, desperate to see it all, but worried I wasn’t taking enough of it in. The signs explaining what was in each room invariably had an explanation which referred to a certain Chinese emperor or Dynasty, especially if there was anything that was linked to the Chinese princess that once wed a Tibetan king (more relevant at the Jokhang later that day, but nevertheless an event that holds a lot of interest for modern Chinese audiences and tour guides)

Up and down we went through little rooms belonging to different Dalai Lamas, seeing their Stupas and tombs, their favourite rooms, their gifts from foreign rulers. Waiting for others from our group to catch up, wanting to cram as much info in as I possibly could. Getting mixed up with Chinese groups, looking intently at statues as if I could somehow burn their appearance into my mind if I looked that much harder. It didn’t really work. I can’t remember everything I saw already, and its only 2 weeks ago. We were through the apartments of the Dalai Lamas within 58mins and I felt very frustrated that we didn’t have longer. It really was quite a lot like my nightmare! But it wasn’t gonna bother me on my birthday, especially when I was well aware of how lucky I was to be there at all. Not only is it still relatively difficult to get into Tibet, but there are thousands upon thousands of Tibetans in exile who would have probably given their right arm to have an hour in the Potala, and its their birth right pretty much to be there – but instead I was! And frustrated about the one hour I did get! I bought a book from the Potala about the Potala, written by the Chinese. Partly because I wanted the propaganda. I bought a book of postcards because photos were of course prohibited, and I thought they might help me remember the wonders I’d seen.

I wandered down the steps, now off the clock, down to our little bus waiting for us. On the way I passed by some tablets with Tibetan carved into them laid out on the grass. They’d been smashed during the “cultural revolution” and now were propped up because they’d been preserved.

So off to the Norbulingka – The Summer Palace

I was as excited about the Norbulingka as the Potala. Because I know how much the current Dalai Lama loved it from books, and I think it’s almost as important as the Potala. It was the place where the Dalai Lama’s projection room was housed, and it was, and to my surprise still is, the place that houses the Tibetan Opera each year. I’ve already mentioned what a lovely day it was, and this was all the more enjoyable in the gardens of the Norbulingka. The first part of the Norbulingka we visited was the 8th Dalai Lama’s palace. You walked through the gardens to big doors with big knockers

and then you enter a little peaceful place that seems a world away from the dark corners of the Potala. There was a lovely White Tara Thangka, and the whole place had been painted by a renowned Tibetan artist that I can’t find the name of ANYWHERE! My postcard book of photos of course doesn’t mention him, and the lonely planet doesn’t know.

We then went to visit the 14th Dalai Lama’s palace. I’d stared at photos of this part of the Norbulingka for a long time before visiting, and it didn’t disappoint.

You enter into a large hallway, which now has a giftshop on the right hand side, and then you go up some wooden stairs into a reception room at the top, that has the most wonderful painting on the wall of Tibetan history in 301 scenes. From the monkeys and first field that I’d seen a few days before at Tsedang to the 14th Dalai Lama. This painting was also by this great Tibetan artist - unfortunately there are no photos or books of this painting, although it would make a great children’s book, I’m not sure it’s a version of history that would sell very well to the Chinese.

I got to see HHDL’s other little single bed, and another radio that again the Chinese tour guides were very interesting (I won’t mention the ooos and aaaahs when they got to the gramophone! – which was a present from Nehru I believe) and the route that you walk through the palace also took you through HHDL’s throne room. And when I say throne room, I mean the royal throne …. And bath, and sink. All of which had money on them as offerings. I know my Mum would approve of this as one does like to wish people to be productive in that department… right Mum?

There is a wonderful ‘assembly hall’ with paintings on the walls with faces of 14th Dalai Lamas government that look like cartoons, I wish there was postcards of them too – and its so strange seeing the paintings, and knowing the history, and also knowing that this place – the New Summer Palace at the Norbulinkga was where the Dalai Lama escaped from disguised as a soldier when he left Tibet 50 years ago this year.

The Tibetan Opera still continues outside in the gardens of the Norbulinkga each year. They still perform towards the New Summer Palace as if the Dalai Lama was still there. But it now seems to be sponsored by Budweiser.

I was keen to see if HHDL’s Koi Carp were still in the pond, and I’m glad to report there are many many koi carp in the pond. I took photos as proof.

So far so good, a rushed Potala, and a peaceful Norbulinkga, both before lunch – not a bad start to a 29th birthday in Tibet!

Mike Alexander website

2009-10-26T23:26:00.000Z

Mike Alexander memorial website:

http://www.mikealexander.co.uk/

Mike Alexander R.I.P.

2009-10-26T23:12:00.000Z

Mike Alexander R.I.P.

I’d got an email from Lucy saying Evile were leaving the Amon Amarth tour whilst I was in the hotel in Kathmandu, Nepal. I thought to myself “Shit what bad luck have the guys got into now? I hope Ol’s been eating right and not breaking his jaw, I hope they’ve managed to get the ferry, I hope none of them have got ill” I was frustrated, thinking about Ol’s bad feeling about the tour before they started thinking “Come on guys whatever it is you’ve got to stick it out” So I wrote back to Lucy from Kathmandu saying “Tell me what’s going on”

I didn’t get a reply until I reached Tibet and my Blackberry started working. The first thing I read upon arrival. Mike’s dead.

Evile didn’t want to tell me, they didn’t want to spoil my holiday, but they were worried I would see it on Facebook and not hear it from them.

I’d just landed in a really surreal place and I was getting really surreal news.

I still don’t think it’s sunk in for me. I still don’t know what to write.

Mike was a very private person. I only found out that he had a daughter about 6 months ago. I’d been drinking with him enough, I’d laughed with him enough, but his private life was his private life, and in some ways Mike was the quiet one in Evile. Until you went out on the piss with him. Or until you had one of those natural moments of hilarity with Mike where his easy going sense of humour caught the room.

Mike was a giggler. He didn’t have a big booming laugh, he giggled. Please note this example when we were in the woods doing the Evile photoshoot for Infected Nations. I’d told the boys this story about Mad Bess. (Just like my guide leader had told me the story about Mad Bess when I was a girl guide) and whilst we were waiting to take photos (it was fucking pissing it down) we did this YouTube clip. Mike’s trying to hold himself together and not dissolve into laughter. I’m trying to hold it together and not dissolve in to laughter from looking at Mike (although you can still hear me giggle behind the camera)

Mike wasn’t the guy I would contact to get press done with Evile; he certainly wasn’t the guy who would respond to emails quickest if ever. He never had a facebook; he didn’t really like his mobile phone. He always wore headphones. He wasn’t really one to take the lead or to be confrontational. He was a King Diamond virgin until Louise and I initiated him to the King in the car from Bloodstock to a Supermarket one hungry morning at the festival. Louise and I tortured him without mercy by singing Madonna classics at him all the way home from Bloodstock. But he actually didn’t seem to mind, said it reminded him of his sisters. He was the guy everyone wanted to hang out with especially when press were in town, he was the guy everyone wanted to be around because he was so easy going. It was never any fuss or stress with him. Everything was done with no bother; anything you did for him was always received so gratefully and humbly. He was never one of those guys to be disappointed with a rider at a show, he was always grateful there was anything at all. He was never the one to be in bed early, he was the one who used to like to party, in his own understated hilarious way.

I feel bad I didn’t get to know him better, to make the most of his fun loving, no hassle personality. I always loved the way his eyes lit up mischievously when he would witness something cheeky. Those eyes gave away so much.

He was the first Evile member to dress up in stupid masks with me at Bloodstock. He danced Reggae with me outside some market stall. He was a really good guy. He was a really solid guy.

All that without even mentioning what a talented bass player he was.

I can’t imagine how hard it is for his brothers in Evile. Ben, I know you’ll make it through this ok, Ol you’re so brave, and Matt I’m glad you’ve all got each other. I know you’ll be back on stage soon enough, as I’m sure Mike would never have wanted you to stop, and I know that nothing and no one will be able to replace him, as he was so special, but I also know that everything Mike gave to the band will carry on with you, and his sound will carry on when you play the tracks he wrote with you and when you get on stage and see the fans that were fans of him too, and love you all still. The support Evile have from fans has always been huge because they are such genuine nice guys. Thankful and grateful and sweet, and enjoying every minute of their career with the band. And you guys will enjoy it again, even though Mike will be no longer with you physically, you know he’ll be there every time you play in your heads and hearts and in the minds and hearts of the fans too.

I’m writing this on the train, and we’re just going through Market Harborough near where Evile recorded the album Infected Nations. Near where this video happened where Mike pops through looking cheeky.
Near where he tasted a chilli in the Indian restaurant by the recording studio (on the Evile DVD)

Something about him was so magic, he had a self-awareness and comic timing in everything, whilst still in many ways being the “quiet one”. I hope that his work lives on in his music and his kids. Having met Tom at the weekend, I know his sense of humour lives on, and I see with Tom and Matt both that his love of metal will continue. My heart goes out to his family, to his Mum and Hayley and his Lumpy Georgie, I hope you can take solace in how much he was loved all over the world and that his memory will live on in his music and with his fans.

It’s still so hard to believe no one will hear his giggle ever again.

Uncle Brain R.I.P.

2009-10-26T21:50:00.000Z

Brian Redman R.I.P.

I can’t pretend that Uncle Brain and I hung out all the time cause we actually only met the one time. I can’t believe that! Looking back, I would have thought that we’d hung out a whole bunch. But the truth of it is, that we only hung out face to face that first night I met 3 inches of Blood in London. But we got on pretty fucking well. I adopted him as a big brother soon after, but then later christened him Uncle as everyone needs an Uncle that behaves badly. I had 2 – Uncle Bob Slayer and Uncle Brain. We kept in touch with emails, I called him now and again, he helped me with my love life, I stayed in touch when he left 3 inches of Blood, as he was and is one of my favourite members that band has had. No offense to the others but Brain was the man. We had a mutual love of Pinky and the Brain. I was Pinky, he was Brain. We had a Pinky and the Brain referencing friendship. We had a talking shit friendship. We had a talking Black metal friendship. I tried to get to visit him in Tacoma, but I didn’t have the time or the money in the end last year. He was gonna come to London in January. When we discovered facebook we had a “poke” ing friendship. When we discovered we both had Blackberry messenger we had a “BBM” ing friendship. I spoke to him on BBM when I was in Delhi a few hours before he died. He sent me this photo:

He told me “I want to molest China”

As I was on my way to Tibet.

That was the last I heard from him.

Uncle Brain was a guest on my radio show. I wanted to phone him every week. Sometimes I couldn’t get hold of him cause he was sleeping. Sometimes he picked up and was fuckin funny. 2 weeks before he died from a moped accident he was on my show talking about bike accidents. My friend Lucy had been hit by a car whilst on her bike in Camden. She was shaken up but reasonably unhurt. I dedicated my radio show to her as she’s one of my best friends and we played various accident related tracks. I phoned Uncle Brain; he picked up and was on the show about half an hour discussing accidents and telling stories. He told me a story about how a car went into him once when he was drunk cycling home. He got real mad and got up off the floor ready to fight the guy behind the wheel who’d knocked him off the bike, only to find out that the car was parked and there was no one behind the wheel – it had been stationary the whole time. Doh!

Uncle Brain was a party animal. But I only got to party with him once. What a fucking loser I am I should have made the journey out to see him. It’s the nature of friends in this business, sometimes you meet people who you get on with so well, you know you’ll be friends for life, and just hope your paths cross again soon. Well, life was a shorter time than I expected. And our paths didn’t cross again as soon as I hoped they would. I know that all the people who got to spend more time with him, and Dana who I know loved him to bits must miss him a whole bunch because I miss him and I only hung out with him that one time face to face. I hope you all can treasure the memories and times you’ve had with him – all I have is a photo of his smelly feet and Pinky and Brain cartoons.

What a fucking awesome guy. I’m so sad you’re not around to make the world more rock n roll.

Arriving in Lhasa

2009-10-21T11:14:00.000+01:00

Lhasa.
The forbidden city. The capital of Tibet. The home of the Dalai Lamas. The Potala palace. The Jokhang. The Norbulinka.
I ride on the bus towards the Forbidden city listening to Kansas and the big chinese billboards pass by the divine Tibetan landscape. Its very strange.

We get stopped by the police 3 or 4 times on our way to the big smoke. They check our passports, they check our visa, they check out our driver and guide.

We drive along round the mountains, by the lake and it looks so magic.

On the sides of the mountains and hills are ladders painted in white, wishing people long life. There are paintings of buddha on the sides of the mountains and hills too. But no political graffiti.

After passing the last 'traditional' Tibetan house and going through the new tunnel through the mountain we get into Lhasa.

There are 60th anniversary decorations everywhere celebrating the 'liberation' of Tibet in 1949.

There are shopping malls and stalls and people and wide roads and steak houses and alot of armed guards. Platoons of them patrol the streets. But people just get on with their business.

Dirty old prayer flags hang from the bridge going across into town. I know that putting prayer flags up in a lot of Lhasa is now forbidden. The once Forbidden city is now open to tourists, but closed to prayer flags.

Irrespective of the gulf between what Lhasa was and what it is now, i was very upbeat, think of all the travellers that went before me, all the amazing events that took place in this great city, the sadness, the happiness, the culture that lived untouched for so long.

And then you get treated to something that i'll never forget. My first view of the Potala palace. I didn't take a photo right at that moment cause i was too busy enjoying it. It is truley magnificent. Totally majestic sitting high up and looking down on all the crap that's happened. It's totally awesome. And the next day i was gonna turn 29 and go and visit it.

Here's a photo from the top of our hotel the next morning, so you get the picture.

Samye on the way

2009-10-19T15:58:00.001+01:00

So i'm catching up with blogs and trying to remember every little thing that happened whilst i was on my trip.

I blogged about Samye already from Tibet whilst i was in the bus on the way to Lhasa. Taking the tiller of that little boat across the lake/river to Samye that day was one highlights of my time in Tibet up until that point. And Samye was such an interesting monastery, especially as a lot of it was original build, and in light of my 2 friends passing away its meant to be where souls go to rest before they get reincarnated. Not that i believe in that, but it was nice to think about, and i spun a lot of prayer wheels in the hopes my friends were somewhere near.

Tibet - the hope

2009-10-16T13:26:00.000+01:00

I've written about how it was strange and sad to land in Tibet, and why. And i've written about the confusion i experienced and what a headf**k it was, and still is - but i've tried to write in chronological order and those weren't the overall feelings i experienced or what i now think, although it is still confusing dealing with the contradictions and the emotions and the oppression.

After our first night in Tsedang, capital of the Yarlung valley, and ghost town of the Chinese tiles we set off for the fortress/chapel of Yumbulakhang. I had seen photos of this building high on the hill, and i was excited to see it. Its been rebuilt of course, so it's not the original anymore, and to be honest although i was worrying about all the things i've spoken about in my previous blogs and didn't know what to think. This is the chapel with the vacant seat of the Panchen lama and where i was first struck by the Mao money everywhere. But it also has the most magnificent vista, and infront of the temple in a field to the left is where the first cultivated field in Tibet was supposed to be sewn from the first Tibetans who in their beliefs descended from monkeys.

I climbed up to the top of the mountain behind the temple and watched the few pilgrims go up the path. Its really quite incredible, and now i'm home i can't believe that last week i was standing there with the wind in my hair looking out over the Tibetan fields below.

Here's a picture of some of the money collected in the temple

And the view from the top of the hill of a older monastery now covered in dust

Monk population in this little temple = 3 i think. Monk populations all over Tibet are dwindling. Temples without monks are a very sad affair.

Next stop was the Traduk monastery which is being rebuilt after being mostly destroyed during the 'Cultural revolution' (occupation)

On the back of my ticket into the temple it says "Traduk Lamasery is one of the twelve Tibetan Buddhist lama temples buillt by the Tibetan king Songtsen Gampo in the 7th century as well as one of the important sacred places among the three sacred pagodas, three sacred caves and three sacred places Yarlung Valley. The temple was constantly maintained in the different stages of history. It remains what it is after is was renovated and added to on a large scale during the time of Tahle Lama X. It is a major national culture relic worthy of preservation."

* Postage stamp on the back of the card from The People's Republic of China

Translation by cynical Londoner: tourists will like this place, so we are rebuilding it after having destroyed it

It was however in this temple under what was a very grey sky i began to get a feel for the fact that Tibetan culture still lives. As although the vistas and views are spectacular it was the people and warmth and smiles i wanted to see. Then we were lucky enough to witness some ladies laying the new floor on the upstairs of the temple. This wasn't something organised by the Chinese for tourists, this was just something we walked in on.

And from that point on my time in Tibet got a lot brighter.

We went to the Tomb of the Tibetan Kings where there was a new old monastery (circa 1982) and i made friends with a Tibetan lady who'd gone a bit mad and she gave me a crystal. Then we made friends with some people in the fields and i tried to make friends with some Yak.

I began to get a feel for the Tibetan people and started trying to understand who was who and what their intentions were. From being utterly shocked when we first got to Tibet, i started being incredibly happy and grateful to be here, witnessing the real geniune smiles of the Tibetans in their own land.

The Road to Lhasa

2009-10-14T13:19:00.000+01:00

The Pilgrim's progress: from this world to that which is yet to come: delivered under the similtude of a dream

The Dalai Lama often states in his books that its best to stay with the religion of your parents if you can. For me, even as a confirmed and baptised Christian, Christianity hasn't been an option since i was 13.
At one point in my patchwork religious history, i used to go to a Hare Krisna temple.
My mother isn't Jewish, and i've never converted so that wasn't on the cards.
I work in death metal and heavy metal, so hatred of all religions and faiths is always an option. And i like Black metal, so Satanism is an option too.
Hell, i have a lot of options.
I've even taken part in a pagan naming ceremony on Stone Henge courtesy of my brother and sister in law, so i could go with the ancient tradition of the British or i could just ignore it all.
Truth is however, that i'm interested in it all, i'm fascinated by religion and rituals, and i've grown to think that a place where people have faith is a special place irrespective or religion.
I dont think people who have faith are weak or stupid, which is a common misconception here in the west. You dont have to blindly follow a religion to believe in better things...
But a pilgrimage doesnt mean i've chosen a religion to follow or i'm compliant in all teachings. Although in many ways i'm on a Buddhist path. After all Buddha taught that all his teachings should be questions anyway.
In religion and spirituality, a pilgrimage is a long journey or search of great moral significance.
Buddhism normally offers four sites of pilgrimage: the Buddha's birthplace at Lumbini, the site where he attained Enlightenment at Bodh Gaya, where he first preached at Sarnath, and where he achieved Parinirvana at Kusinagara.
None of these places were where i was aiming at althought we nearly ended up going to Lumbini when we thought our Tibetan visas wouldn't come though. I wanted to get to Tibet which was, and is for me a place of great moral significance.
So along the road to Lhasa, i saw what Tibet could have been when i saw Bhutan, i gave up meat (because it was also convinient) and i travelled by plane. So i guess the hardship wasn't at all great. I stayed in hotels, i didn't go it alone maybe this wasn't much of a pilgrimage?
But i had wanted to get to Tibet for so long, even my Mum had wanted to get to Tibet since she read 'Seven years in Tibet' - i had read books, watched films, been to teachings by the Dalai Lama, listened to monks tell stories about the occupation. I was certainly very interested, and i made it my goal to be in Lhasa for my 29th birthday, which i was - past the visa trouble, the tummy trouble, the dog trouble, the mortal coil trouble, the insurrection trouble, on the 9th October 2009 i woke up in Lhasa.
And when i went up to the roof of the hotel, look what i saw:

Tibet Headf**k

2009-10-13T15:35:00.002+01:00

After flying over such beautiful landscape its a shock when you land in the pristine (still being finished) white tiled expanse that is Lasa airport. Situated in a valley surrounded by those velvety mountains i loved so much from above it leaves an impression, or a dent in the psyche of what's to come. Armed with Chinese soldiers, inspectors, H1N1 specialists, and passport inspectors together with their service rating machines on their passport desks (like the ones you get in service station toilets to rate the cleanliness of loos on the M1) - arriving in Tibet is just like... well, arriving in central China.
As i arrived in Tibet, i found out about Mike Alexander passing away, as my Blackberry started to work for the first time since i'd left Delhi. Another illustration of the technology that courses through Tibet courtesy of China Mobile, and a very sad beginning to my time in a land that was once inaccessible and forbidden.
Everywhere we travelled there were different measures to combat H1N1 Swine flu. In Tibet you walk through a metal doorway, stand on the footprints and get your temperature measured whilst being surveyed by Chinese uniform guards. None of the people that work in Lasa airport are Tibetan, at least they don't look it, and i would think you can number the amount of Tibetans in the Chinese army on one hand. However, this is where the head f**k bit starts, when you start thinking its been 60 years, and most of the employees of this airport in Chinese uniform were born in Tibet. Infact, the head f**k starts before the plane even lands with the 60th anniversary posters in the plane and the article in the China air magazine about the ~~invasion~~ sorry liberation of Tibet.
I knew that visiting Tibet was liable to be depressing. And from the point where i'd recieved an email containing horrific news on the China mobile network, to walking through the space ship airport with the monotone uniformed staff i really thought the culture that i had so longed to see have been mown down by the oppression of the model uniformed employees smiley face service button and the bathroom tiles of China.
I stayed in this sad mood all the way to Tsedang city which did nothing to raise my spirits as it was so f**king weird. (i apologise for all the swearing, but you gotta understand how strange this place was)
HUGE tiled (yes again with the tiling) buildings, office blocks, China post, China mobile, China billboards and EMPTY. The whole place seemed totally EMPTY!!
You come out of Lasa airport past a few barbie doll shops, avoiding the trench in the ground toilet, picking up a packet of crisps to munch on the way through straight into Tibetan countryside in the dry heat and farmers and Tibetans in the fields ploughing with cattle and yaks, and two story Tibetan houses with washed out prayer flags and the Chinese flag, and painted doorways into Robocop city. Empty Robocop city.
I can't tell you how strange it is. There's the odd Tibetan, complete with apron, and horse and cart, or tractor engine and buggy, and then the odd mercedes complete with Chinese business man, but mostly the place was empty. Apparently as it was the celebration of 60years since the Chinese ~~invasion~~ liberation of Tibet (1949) most Chinese had gone back to ~~China~~ sorry, we're already in China, i meant Beijing for the holidays. (To celebrate invading you go back home) Then we get to the hotel. Where i would guess apart from us there's 6 other people staying. And this place has 6 floors and looks like a tiled palace. Its all so weird, and i felt so tired and sad. I really didn't want to end up feeling angry, but in Tsedang city with the emptiness and the lack of good feeling anywhere, that first day in Tibet was very low.
Don't get me wrong i was excited to be in Tibet at all, and very lucky. What i hadn't mentioned before in my blog before was the total nightmare problem we had getting visas. We found out the night before at 9.20pm that we were leaving for Tibet for definate at 6am the next day. As Tibet was closed because of the Chinese celebration of the ~~invasion~~ liberation of Tibet, they thought it wise to not let foreigners in, in case trouble started and there was someone to witness it. But believe me, with the amount of armed, uniformed personell in ~~China~~ Tibet, there was no way that our bunch of farming friends were going to be trouble. It was more likely to be me - but this isn't my homeland, and although i've seen all the dvds and read the books, and met monks like Palden Gyatso, i have never been willing to stand up for a cause without seeing things for myself and weighing up the balance of the situation. I decided not to write about the neon office blocks, and the tiled buildings and the emptiness straight away, because i didn't know who was reading it, and i hoped that the next day i would feel a lot brighter, after all i'd just heard about my friend Mike, so i was bound to feel blue.
I'd heard people say that the situation in Tibet isn't all bad, that the Chinese government have invested billions in the area, that there's clean water, a communications network, higher standard of living, schools etc.
When i heard them say this i leapt to the defense of the Tibetans because its easier sometimes to see things in black and white, but i dont think that helps anything. And the truth is this is a very complicated situation. Especially with the Chinese propaghanda machine on top of it all muddying the water (i'll give examples of this later) so that even some Tibetans dont know the reality anymore. Parents dont talk about what happened to their children because they're worried their children will get angry and then get in trouble. Children have to illegally leave the country and go to India to listen to accounts of the ~~invasion~~ liberation and then sneak back and try to continue to exist in an ~~occupied~~ liberated country.
And then whats more of a headf**k is the Chinese are rebuilding a lot of the temples they destroyed in the ~~invasion~~ liberation with Tibetan workers, but for tourists.
If you believe the films and accounts of Tibetans, then you'll know that religion - Buddhism, was and is central to Tibetan life. I've seen this with my own eyes, and i know it to be true. Whatever you think of religion, it is the Tibetans lifeblood, and when the atrocities occured in the monasterys and the buildings were destroyed and the monks and nuns tortured and imprisoned it must have caused unimaginable pain to the Tibetan population. But now the temples are being rebuilt. But for tourists. But they are being rebuilt, and in the traditional way. But for money from the Chinese and (other) foreign tourists. Or maybe for the happiness of the Tibetan population. I dont understand. Irrespective, the Tibetans that are still in Tibet i believe are glad that the temples are being rebuilt.
But there is a pervasive emptiness about the new temples, and i dont mean that they are literally empty like the big office buildings in Tsedang, i mean they feel empty, like the worship and centuries of care that had been destroyed cannot be rebuilt by breeze blocks and concrete in 10 years. Alot of the temples i visited on the first day in Tibet after arriving had been built in 1982. Year of the tourist. They looked and smelt like temples and even looked old, as it doesnt take long with butter lamps burning for colours to be dulled but it didn't feel quite right. I felt uneasy. I didn't understand why Tibetans would stay here when it felt so wrong. I didn't know who i could talk to about my questions because i knew that sometimes there are spies, and i didn't understand. I saw malicious intent in Chinese tourists visiting Tsedang temple the first temple built in Tibet (reconstructed) and where the Buddhist teachings landed when they apparently fell from the sky. I kept trying to understand. When you are inside the Tsedang temple you will see a throne of the Panchen Lama. The other highest ruler in Tibet, next to the Dalai Lama. The throne is empty of course, expect for the photo of the 10th Panchen Lama, and of the 2nd 11th Panchen Lama. (The 1st 11th Panchen Lama disappeared the day after he was chosen by the Dalai Lama 20 years ago and hasn't been seen since, the 11th Panchen Lama in the photo is the one the Chinese chose). I feel odd talking about these things as this isn't my country, and although i've learnt about them the English government ~~has had~~ has its errors. I protested against the Iraq war and they did it anyway, it wasn't in my name, i dissassociated myself from it. But the Iraqis will never know that. Hell it was the English government who partly started the whole problems with the Chinese in Tibet in the first place. But for some reason i feel very moved by Tibet, and very saddened by it, and now ive been to Tibet and i've looked and i've seen, and now i'm trying to work out what a headf**k it is.
The temples are filled with money, stuffed in the laps and in the frames of the different statues of the deities and kings in the temples. The money has Chairman Mao's head on it. Chairman Mao stares around from his papery financial disposition stuck to the silk of Tsongtsen Gampo's lap and i think he probably laughs.
Funnily enough however the Tibetans do too, cause they have such a smiley happy disposition generally as a people that my jaw is aching from grinning at Tibetans walking up the hills to the monasteries.
I still don't understand.
So i keep thinking about it, and i'm still thinking about it, and i will write more about it until i understand. All i can say is that for the first 24hours in Tibet it was a huge headfuck. Such conflicting strange feelings and contradictions that its hard to tell whats going on. Just when you think its all dark and gloomy you see light at the end of them tunnel. The situation isn't black and white. And not all these Chinese in uniform are to blame.
However, i didn't see one Tibetan in uniform, one Tibetan in a position of authority, one Tibetan talking happily without pressure or duress or neccisity to the Chinese. Most Tibetans i saw were doing manual labour, hardly any Tibetans i saw even round the Jokhang owned the shops there. But more on this later. My mind was so sandblasted by the first 24hours in Tibet, that...
I went bowling. The empty bowling lanes across the square from the hotel seemed a very fitting past time after such a weird day. The very sweet lady opened them up specially for us and i heroically lost a game. I went bowling in Tibet on our 2nd night in Tsedang. In my mind there seems something very wrong with that, but that's because of my preconcieved ideas of what Tibet was all about. Clearly the Chinese pre-1949 had none of the preconceptions i did, and consequentally none of the hangups or headf**ks since.
Well, some of the Chinese anyway.
(You see what i mean about Headfuck?)

Things left unsaid

2009-10-12T15:49:00.000+01:00

So now i'm back in London after my adventures in 3 different countries on the other side of the globe. I'm extremely lucky to have had the chance to go to Tibet, Bhutan and Nepal - especially Tibet. Some of what i saw in Tibet i didn't blog about at the time as i didn't want to get anyone or myself into trouble whilst i was out there, and i do think that it would have been possible that communication from behind the Great firewall of China was read and could have led to difficulties - at Lasa airport the Chinese authorities/customs were confiscating travel books on Tibet and cds of prayers or anything that could have been "propaghanda" haahaha what a joke.

So i'll be blogging about what Tibet was actually like in the next few days, but its taking a while to assimulate all the information to give a proper fair opinion. I don't want to seem like i hate the Chinese, i really don't and i don't think that kind of reaction helps anyone at all.

Also, whilst i was away, after all that talk about jabs I GOT BITTEN BY A DOG. For real. Luckily it was the hotel dog at Dwarikas in Kathmandu. And it had had rabies shots, so i wasn't as risk from rabies.

BLOODY ALSATIAN! I like dogs too, but it came along and bit the back of my leg. Ugh! It gave me quite a shock, i haven't mentioned it before as i didn't want to worry my Mum whilst i was away. I was so lucky it had been vaccinated.

Priya - if you read this - do you remember that Alsatian chasing us through your garden when we were about 8 yrs old? This one didn't even chase me, i was only walking back from breakfast, i was still in PJ's, i didn't even say Hi to him. In retrospect however, i did have Catwoman PJ's so maybe that was why.

Another thing i haven't mentioned are the two very sad losses one Monday after another the 2 weeks i was away. Firstly my lovely friend Brian Redman, old bassist of 3 inches of blood, who i'd only spoken to in Delhi died the next day in a moped accident, he deserves, and will get a blog of his own very soon. And then this last week Mike Alexander, bassist of Evile, died very suddenly in Sweden whilst on tour. I will write more about that soon too. I didn't write about either of their deaths whilst i was away as i couldn't bring myself to, and i didn't have the time i would have liked to give to them both when writing about them, which i do now i'm home.

Samye monastery

2009-10-08T09:34:00.000+01:00

Its about 4pm here and we're driving along by the Bhramaputra river after coming back from the Samye monastery. I haven't been able to blog so far because I haven't been able to find the right words, but here we are after a fantastic day and I thought I would tell u about the perfect scenery and the wonderful monastery. If you look up Samye monastery I'm sure you'll find lots about its significance that I can't write here as a refuge and also as the oldest monastery in Tibet. A lot of the original building remains including a huge mural depicting Padmabhamsava (Guru Rinpoche) when he brought Buddhism to Tibet. To get to the monastery you have to cross the Bhramaputra on these little wooden boats with a dodgy petrol engine. When we arrived one of the skippers was emptying the water out of the boat with a pot. It was very encouraging. The river is quite shallow, full of sandbanks and currents. The skipper let me take the tiller and drive the boat most of the way there. We tried to race the other boat, and in the end we won (thanks to my wonderful navigation - honest! The skipper was on his mobile phone not paying the slightest bit of attention to me or the direction of the boat!)
Its very dry here, we woke to snow of the tops of the hills (mountains as they're higher than anything in Europe I can assure u). The ground is sandy dust which gets everywhere, some of this area looks like desert its so arid, there are patches of just sand. This morning it was quite chilly so I got to wear my warm jacket for the first time on this trip (thanks Mum!) And getting on that boat to cross to Samye was such a joy. After a bumpy shuttle the other side and saying bye to my new skipper friend we got to Samye in time to hear the monks chanting their prayers. I was totally transfixed. It was the first time I'd seen it in Tibet, and it is totally awesome.
I forgot to mention on my way in I bought a caddy of hot butter to top up the butter lamps on my way round the monastery. I love monks with big grins, and one of the monks let me past the cordon in front of the gold statue of Shakyamuni Buddha to top up the lamps there. Everything has an amazing smell in the temple. Some find the soot coming off the butter lamps a bit overwhelming but I love it all. We went to the room of 1000 Padmasanbava, then the room of 1000 Amitayus (Buddha of longevity) then up to the Tara temple at the top covered in 1000 of the 21 Tara but it was shut - the top levels were worst damaged. In another room there were a lot of old artefacts saved from destruction, and in yet another room a bed where HHDL slept with a 1000 year old painting of what Samye once looked like. After finishing off my canister of hot butter and chatting to some pilgrims including a Khampa man with 3 wives we went to have lunch (noodles and veg as don't fancy yak much and still going veggie) then I ran back to the temple to do a kora and spin all the prayer wheels.
We got the boat back and now we're heading off to Lhasa! Soon I will see the great Potala palace! Can't wait! Although everything here is sad and happy too. Wide roads, sign posts, "China life" "China mobile" "air china" ads along the a road. I guess ill stop now and write more later.

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Tibet - first impressions

2009-10-07T14:39:00.000+01:00

This place is so strange at times I've been totally lost for words and then other times I think there's so much to write about that my mind might explode. Flying in to Tibet my heart leapt at the landscape below, yellow/green velvet arid mountains, deep blue lakes, brown/purple valleys untouched. On the ground however its a different story. I'm going to save my words for a later date but suffice to say, the Tibetan people are a credit to this beautiful land and my mind is working overtime to put this all in context.
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On my way to Tibet!

2009-10-06T04:09:00.000+01:00

Tashi Delek!
I'm at Kathmandu airport once again, but this time on my way to Tibet! We heard at 9.20pm last night that we had the visas to go, and i'm beyond excited. Our flight leaves in 2 hours, i've had about 3 hours sleep as i went out on an adventure last night to find the Swede in Thamel with Tessa. We ended up in a bar called Tom and Jerry's and i think it was possibly one of the most hilarious few hours i've ever had. But anyway, the most important thing is that i'm on my way. I shall still reserve a 0.05% worry until i've actually landed in Tibet, but so far so good.

Do Kathmandu

2009-10-05T12:57:00.000+01:00

I arrived back in crazy Kathmandu yesterday from peaceful and tranquil Bhutan. Druk air (The only airline that flys to Bhutan) is an experience in itself, and the flight across the Himalaya where you can see Everest is really something. Upon arrival in Kathmandu however all calm is dispelled with the traffic, people, and mish mash of colours, smells, dirt and bumpy roads. The amount of cars, mopeds, bikes, motorbikes, minivans with people hanging out the sides, bikes with 2 kids and mum and dad, all beeping and swerving is quite a blast when coming in from Paro. Its also a lot hotter here in Kathmandu than in the Kingdom of the Dragon. Anyway, we arrive at the airport and have our passports collected by Sunil our Nepali tour guide to sort the Tibet visa out. Then we head back to Dwarika's hotel to dump stuff and get sorted.
Dwarikas is the crazy posh hotel made with bits of old buildings in an Indiana Jones style.
We were due a "free afternoon" yesterday but decided to all go to Bhaktapur with a guide instead. Bhaktapur is a world heritage site and i'm very glad we had a guide, not only to explain but because the place is like a maze and it would have been easy to get lost. Everywhere here seems so full of bustle and people and colour. You have to dodge motobikes and bikes laden with bananas or unknown items in baskets on your way through the streets whilst also taking in the amazing carvings and architecture. The mixture of Hinduism and Buddhism is very interesting to me, and i bought an (expensive) book at the Peacock book shop that had been totally hand made and hand printed about Nepali Hinduism and Tibetan Buddhism.
There is a lot of dust everywhere, but some of the colourful dust in the temples is this Tika powder paint that's all over the statues. I'm trying to learn the different Hindu Gods and their manifestations. I've read the Mahabarata, and some of the Gita and i remember the stories of Rama and Sita and Hanuman, but it's all very confusing. Brahma, Vishnu, Shiva and all their manifestations... And the "spiritual consorts"... all covered in red powder and topped with bits of grass from the festival last week. Not to mention the animal blood you find in some places from where male animals have been offered as they represent demons. (They're eaten afterwards, its just their blood that's offered)
Last night we went out to Ramdoodles which is the place where all the trekkers go before going up Everest, and its covered in these big cardboard feet signed by different expeditions. I ate a tuna and sweetcorn pizza, which was a highlight, as i've been living off of rice and vegetables for quite a while now, and it was nice to have something i'm more used to (even though i don't actually eat pizza at home!)
On the subject of food, i should mention that there's not many people on my trip who haven't had some kind of dodgy tummy, and i am no exception. Although, it hasn't really been a hinderance so far, and i'm just taking it easy. I haven't eaten any meat really since i go here, as i'm hoping to do a Kora (have i spelt this right?) in Tibet, and i want to be "pure".
Talking of purity, i didn't finish telling you about Tiger's nest in Bhutan, It was truly magnificent, i think i mentioned that, and we took poneys half the way up, but from that point you have to get to the top of the mountain, its really quite steep, but a lot of it is steps and no problem. Along the way i saw a small lady coming out of this hole in the cliff, and i was informed that if you managed to get through the hole in the cave/cliff there you were absolved of all sin. As i have rather a hoard of sin, i thought i would try it, and i came through no problem (apart from Mum's hiking boots that got a bit stuck) I just kinda launched myself head first through this crack in the cliff from the cave behind. Peter (one of the chaps on this adventure, who used to be a banker) and i decided i should go into the cave again and pop out at the right time to scare all the rest of the slow-coach party on their way down the hill. Which i did, whilst doing my best tiger impression to shock and appaul. Win.
I should also mention the 16yr old monk i made friends with at Tigers Nest. I asked him if he was good at meditating and he said no. I said i was total crap and we had a laugh. He was very interested in London and my life. He's been a monk for 11yrs and posted at Tigers nest for 2months. He has to get up at 3am and he goes to bed at 6pm. I wish i could remember his name. Dammit. He was very sweet and when i left Tigers nest and was on the side of the mountain facing the monastery, he was outside waving at me.

Anyway, back to Kathmandu. Today we went to the Monkey temple (Swayambhunath) and Bodnath. Both of which are world heritage sites. There are really lots of monkeys at Swayambhunath, but i didn't spend a lot of time looking at the Stupa as i went into the Buddhist temple and lit a candle for poor Uncle Brain who passed away a week ago (who used to guest on my show and was the bassist in 3 inches of blood) and then i met a monk called Jigme who was interested to why i like Manjushri. I got nervous and couldn't explain why i thought Manjushri is so interesting (Manjushri, slayer of ignorance). Anyway, he sat me down and started teaching me, but then our group leader showed up and i had to go. Jigme has my email address, so i hope we'll stay in contact.
Bodnath is a bigger Stupa than Swayambhunath, and its where a lot of the Tibetan refugees live. There are a lot of Tibetan ladies and gents doing laps clockwise round the Stupa, and even some Tibetans doing full prostrations in front of the Buddha's all seeing eyes. I visited a Thangka painting school and got taught about singing bowls, and spun lots of prayer wheels, with good reason, and i need to go and find out if my lighting butter lamps and spinning prayer wheels worked now.
So i'll write again soon.

Tigers Nest

2009-10-04T03:53:00.001+01:00

While i have wifi, let me just tell you quick about one of the highlights of my time in Bhutan yesterday - trekking up to `"Tigers nest" monastery near Paro in Bhutan. Its called TIGERS NEST because one of the manifestations of Guru Rinpoche (the man who brought Buddhism to Bhutan) had a "spiritul consort" who manifested herself as a Tiger GRRRRRR and the temple was built where Guru Rinpoche mediated in a cave for a few months before finding enlightenment. With the tiger. Grrr!
Tiger's nest is heavenly. It comes out of the side of a mountain, its about a 2 hour trek from "ground" level, and its mostly uphill, so its breath-taking in several ways.
Most of our group, including me, decided to do the first part of the trek by poney. My poney was called DAWA. And he was a lazy sod. But i really quite warmed to him. It wasn't that i couldn't walk up the mountain, but given a chance to ride a horse, i will take it, as there are few chances for me to do this, and it sounded like fun. And much hilarity did ensue. Including Jane slipping right off her horse. The Bhutanese chaps all around in their white cuffed national dress all ran to her aid. Tessa laughed alot, as did i, although Dawa and i were bringing up the rear, as i mentioned before Dawa was more than a bit lazy. Indeed, the most lively i saw him, was when i fed him biscuits when we got to the half way point where the poneys left us to go back down the hill. (The hill? Bloody mountain! Says Jane)

I'm going to post this now as we need to board the plane! Off to Nepal!!

Paro airport, Tashi Delek Bhutan

2009-10-04T03:30:00.000+01:00

I'm sitting in Paro airport and there's wifi up in this joint, so my first email blog about Kathmandu has just gone (its a week old)! I'm sad to leave Bhutan. I can't say its a country of contrasts but it is at odds with everything else I've experienced in life, and every other country I've travelled to. In so many ways its stuck in the past, but its a very appealing past anyone would want to be stuck in. I've made some friends here. Our guide Thinley and I will stay in touch I think - he's 25 and works as a guide in his hols from Uni in India (where he works part time in a call centre). Its amazing how genuinely lovely the people are here. I didn't feel under threat at all like in South America, and the guys were all so polite and sweet and I don't think exploitation crossed their mind in they way it does when travelling in North Africa. There's a good natured cheeky happy humour about everyone, even the monks if u give it a chance to be seen. I've hugely enjoyed making friends here. I've tried to have a chat with some monks at every temple we've been to, even if that chat just consists of laughter, hello, and hide n seek. I'm not sure Bhutan has many tourists in their 20's. And it certainly does have a lot of camera happy tourists - but with scenery like this, its to be expected. Yesterday whilst watching the archery in Paro we met a Prince of Bhutan. 1st cousin of the King. He was just competing in the archery tournament and hanging out (his team lost). He chatted to Tessa and told her he had tea with the Queen at Buckingham Palace 4 years ago. He asked her if we liked the country and Tessa was hugely enthusiastic, without realising she was talking to a Prince. (We told her afterwards)
I don't know how long Bhutan is going to be able to strike a balance between tourist income and western culture, whilst keeping their own values. I really hope the people can stay as warm and innocent and un-jaded as they are though. Because although Bhutan is a truly beautiful country its the beauty and spirit of the people that's the true magic and I really hope our cynical western ways don't damage this little paradise too much.
I hope Thinley and I will stay friends. I'm sure we will. And I will stay in touch with Nobru who worked in the gift shop, and last night gave me a present! So sweet!
Anyway, here I am at Paro airport saying goodbye to Bhutan! And Bhutan's last little present? Some wifi so I can tell you how lovely Bhutan is!
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Bhutan update

2009-10-02T16:13:00.001+01:00

So let me tell you how this holiday works. There's 13 of us. We have a planned route of things to see and places to go. We have limited time in Bhutan (6 days), we have an English tour guide (David) and a Bhutanese tour guide (Thimley) (he's only in the Bhutan part of this trip of course). We are staying in hotels, we have buffet food breakfast, lunch and dinner. We go round in a little bus driven by my new buddy Uygen who's very smiley and i think he thinks i'm hilarious.
I seem to be one of the youngest tourists in Bhutan at the moment. Bhutan likes tourists, but not too many.
You can't get in to Bhutan as a tourist unless you go as part of a group.
I don't care about your backpacking bravado, i'm a girl on my own and i'm safe and sleeping well, and i have limited time. This suits me fine.
I'm the youngest in our group by 10 years. I dont mind at all. Infact i love it, I have many adopted mums. There's a zoologist and 2 vets in our group, they're very interesting. We stopped and saw wild monkeys in the trees, and birds of prey in the air, and i get to hear all about them from experts. We went to the "zoo" which was actually a nature reserve with 2 animals in enclosures, deer and Takin. The old King once let the Takin out thinking it was mean to keep animals behind bars, but they wouldn't leave and created a nuisance in the roads, so now there's about 10-15 Takin in the park and they're very odd and interesting, and i got a detailed explanation from 3 experts. Interesting!! ;-)
No. Really. I love looking at animals.

Bhutan has exceptionally beautiful countryside, so unspoilt. And because all houses have to adhere to these traditional styles, everywhere looks so picturesque. Traditional dress, traditional houses, traditional deities and guardians in the temples too. Which get very confusing. I can spot Manjushri, Avaloketishvara, Buddha (of course), Tara (even some of her 21 manifestations) but then i come a bit unstuck. I can now tell Guru Rinpoche too, and the "Divine Madman" (normally cause he has a big phallus near him) - but the other 100's... i'm still stuck.
I have visited many of the places i was hoping to in Bhutan that are in the earlier blog's photos. But tomorrow we go up to the Tiger's nest monastery. It's about a 2.5 hr trek. I'm going to do some of it on a horse, just because i want to ride.
We travelled back from Punaka today to Paro where we started in Bhutan. Tomorrow is our last day (Saturday) as Sunday morning we're back to Kathmandu, and then hopefully Tuesday morning we're into Tibet. Fingers crossed.
It's 9.15pm here and we leave at 7.30am so i'm going to get going.

Chop chop the King the King!

2009-10-02T15:54:00.000+01:00

I just thought i would let you know as an aside that the King of Bhutan was educated at Oxford, and is 29, and single. He has a little palace by the side of the big Dzong in Thimphu and he's highly elligable. Members of my group are trying to set us up with no luck. They did suggest i ran past the guard to his palace, but i was wearing a long skirt having been in the temple, and that guard looked quick. And i think he knew what we were planning.
Apparently the King is very popular with Thai ladies. I can't tell you why.
According to Tessa and Toni on this tour he has "come to bed" eyes. They know this from the many many portrait photos of him in almost every room of every building in Bhutan.
People also wear badges with his face on. And he has a reserved seat in most of the temples it seems. A super posh gold seat with cushions.
So, i have one day left in Bhutan to hook up with the King. I don't think it's gonna happen somehow, but i think i would make a GREAT Bhutanese princess.

Heavy metal Bhutan

2009-10-02T15:49:00.000+01:00

So as always on my travels, i try to identify metal culture and compare and contrast the differences. Bhutan has never and maybe will never have Metallica or Iron Maiden play on their fertile soil, but our tour guide Thimley still loves Metallica. I leant him my i-pod last night so he could listen to some other bands. He loves AC/DC too.
Metal seems to be the cool thing for kids, especially apparently Korean metal and the Korean metal look. I only know of Cthonic from Korea, but Thimley didn't know about them.
I've seen fake Nightwish t-shirts, they seem popular here (WHY?!), I've seen Black label society, Cradle of Filth and Pantera t-shirts. And a monk in a t-shirt with a pretty grim looking pile of skulls with some (sick) tribal. I'm yet to hear metal being played anywhere, and i haven't seen any gig culture or venues. Although in Thimphu there are 5! Yes 5!! Discoteques. Which play bad house.
Anyway, i'm sure metal lives here!! I know it! And i'm still on the trail!

Bhutan, Thimphu and Punakha

2009-10-01T14:21:00.000+01:00

Bhutan is like waking up in a fairytale. The weather has been so clear and warm and beautiful, and the countryside is mostly untouched. The rice fields are a great yellow/green and the view of the mountains is fantastic. Its like a dream, i didn't really think a place like this of such beauty could exist in our day and age. Of course, it doesn't feel like our day and age. Not because of the national dress everyone wears, or because of the beautiful dzongs, stupas, temples, and buildings with the same (regimented) gorgeous style but because of the politness, the clean air and the general relaxed atmosphere, both to machinery, technology but also people.
I've been up to the temple by the river today and a monastery on a hill, we drove from Thimphu across the mountains and i got my binoculars (thanks mum) out and looked at the snow capped peaks on the border of Bhutan and Tibet. I walked round 108 stupas, i bowed infront of Buddha. I made a group of monks laugh.
I'm relaxed and happy.
I'll have to tell you in more detail when there isn't a queue for the computer (as this is the only one)

Land of the Thunder Dragon. Land of Studio Ghibli.

2009-09-29T13:52:00.001+01:00

Bhutan. Its like stepping back in time as well as going half a world away, but with a kind of modern outlook and modern day appreciation of old traditions. Most of the country is national park, there is a great respect for natural resources and the traditional way of life. It is so picturesque, if anywhere in the world was like walking into a Studio Ghibli movie, visiting Bhutan is. I half expect the racoons (of which i've seen none) to talk and Laputa to appear in the sky. The fields of rice are yellow like The Golden fields of Nausicaa, and the clouds roll in over the mountains and the mist covers the prayer flags in the morning. I've never been anywhere like it. So peaceful and... happy.
YET Heavy metal still lives! Our tour guide Thimley loves Metallica and i saw a kid in a Cradle of Filth t-shirt today. I threw him the horns from our bus.
We're now in Thimphu, 2 hour drive from Paro. Along the drive the landscape is just so majestic and beautiful, buildings like the bath house in Spirited Away, but all in White and red, sometimes with gold on the roofs. The people are so smiley, although i think slightly bewildered, and maybe even nonchalant about tourists now and again. The Bhutanese policy towards tourists is low number, high value.
Talking of value, i bought my "national dress" (which everyone has to wear in Bhutan to work or school or they get thrown out the building, but it does actually seem to be the preferred dress of most people anyway). It set me back $85 for the skirt, jacket and belt. But we bought it from the place where the skirts were being weaved, and i wanted to dress for the Tsechu tomorrow. Some of those skirts take 4 months to weave so i can't say that my plain one was bad value.
High value. Low number.
The weather is alpine, beautiful sun, refreshing rain, and everything is so green. I tried momo's today ( think that's how they're spelt) - Cheese dumplings! Yum!
Talking of food, its nearly 7pm here and i'm really hungry - so i'm gonna go eat. Food prediction: Rice, chillis, Vegtables.

Pashupatinath Temple, Kathmandu, Everest and arrival in Bhutan

2009-09-28T15:57:00.000+01:00

*n.b. Before reading this you must understand that there should have been a blog from Kathmandu yesterday, and although i wrote it, i could not send it because o2 doesn't seem to have any service here in the Himalayas, so my good plans of keeping my online diary and letting you know about my travels have already reached a large impediment. I will post the first blog at a later date when i have coverage.

So here i am sitting in the hotel in Paro, Bhutan typing this blog from the hotel computer behind reception where i've made friends with the 3 girls who would on the desk. One of them is called Nobru and is 23 and married with a son who is 1 year old. One of the girls is my age. She has 2 children. The girls are asking why my family isn't with me. I have explained i have no children, so i think they mean you Mum and Dad!
I have gone from very hot this morning in Kathmandu to rainy cool and alpine here this evening in Paro. But let me tell you about my day.
Our hotel in Kathmandu, Dwarikas, was very "premium" and constituted from pieces of older buildings and temples. Its really quite enchanting, but maybe 20mins out of the centre of Kathmandu, that i have yet to visit.
It was however rather near the river where the Nepalese conduct funeral rites by the Pashupatinath Temple.
So nearly all the group left Kathmandu for Bhutan at about 6am this morning, apart from 3 of us who were booked on a later flight. This may seem very odd, but The Royal Bhutan Druk air (I keep wanting to call it Drudkh air) do as they please. They are the only airline that fly to Bhutan, and you will fly when they say you will fly. So Tessa, Jayne and i flew out from Kathmandu this afternoon, which enabled us to have a bit of a sleep in, which was much needed, and to visit the Pashupatinath temple this morning.
The sun was really scorching this morning as we walked out of our hotel past ramshackle buildings and hoards of electric/communication cables stringing along the streets, cows, kids, beeping mopeds and buses with people hanging off the sides. It took us a little while to find our way, but it wasn't far and we made it down to the river where the bodies are burnt. It costs money to get in for tourists. I assume they tell who are tourists by looking at the colour of skin. We were accosted by a few people wanting to guide us before we got there, then once were paid of a ticket we kinda picked up a chap named Krisna who had been working there for 25 years (i assume he must have started there pretty young) who talked us through everything, Hinduism, Shiva, Kali, Sacrifice, Burning bodies, His personal social/political views, how many monkeys there are in Kathmandu (2000), Gurus, Sidhus etc. Pashupatinath was bigger than we expected and we didn't have all the time in the world, as you have to be at the airport 3 hours early for flights to Bhutan, by order of Drudkh air. Sorry, Druk air.
Monkey run wild, bodies are burnt, (i saw just the toes left) important people get burnt to the left of the bridge, more ordinary people to the right, but everyone can reach Nirvana if they have a funeral pyre at Pashupatinath. Its such a well desired end that there are several old people's homes in the complex, one of them run by the nuns of Mother Theresa. We went to meet some of the old people, bless 'em. I said Namaste and got some toothless grins, but mainly i dont think they noticed us at all until we made a somewhat compulsory donation.
Because it was a Monday, it was sacrifice day apparently, but we arrived too late to see the duck/chicken (not dog, monkey, or cow - if you eat/kill one of them you'll be reborn a women!! No!!!) being killed, we only saw it's pooled blood.
It was a festival day today in Kathmandu too, celebrating overcoming demons. Everyone had a tiki, and i didn't realise this until later that this was to make you lucky in love. I didn't get one. Ugh! Fail!
Anyway, after wandering round the temple with our guide Krisna and watching some bodies burn, and some kids and mothers bathe in the river opposite the bodies as the ashes fell into the water, we had to get back to the hotel to meet our lift to the airport. It was really pretty hot, and i was sweaty and tired. When we got to the airport Drudkh air was not ready to check us in yet, so we waited around for a while. I tried to get reception on my blackberry from the airport WIFI (wifey) no luck.
Anyway, after more forms, more paperwork and multiple frisking and bag searches, and a delay of about an hour during which i dropped off to sleep we were off! To Bhutan!
We managed to get a window seat on the right hand side of the plane, and not only were we afforded a fantastic view of Kathmandu as we flew away, but magnificent view of Everest! Awesome! Its almost level with the plane as you fly past peeking above the clouds. Everest! The highest mountain in the world! Quite spectaculour! And i've seen the top!
Then landing in Bhutan, only a 50 minute flight, but what a flight. Coming into Bhutan (Paro) airport is jaw dropping. You wind inbetween mountains all green and forested with the odd red and white house or temple dotted into the landscape and then you land at what looks like a temple. The airport is infact designed like a temple, and the immigration is like an altar! Not to mention the chap that goes round measuring your temperature to see if you have swine flu and whether you're allowed in or not. Everyone (working) wears national dress in Bhutan. Men in tunics to the knee and knee high socks, and women in long straight skirts and jackets. I've never been anywhere like it in my life. Its straight out of a studio Ghibli movie. Really enchanting. So now i've just had dinner and found a computer, and i'm going to go and crash out. We go to the capital Thimphu tomorrow and i want to get rid of a bit of jetlag and be on top form for choosing my national dress and finding out more about this amazing, isolated place.
So i hope i'll be able to find another computer soon.
Tashi delek!

Kathmandu - for the first time!

2009-09-27T20:44:00.000+01:00

I'm lying in bed in Dwarika's in Kathmandu, and I can't sleep, and my phone has no reception. So this blog is surely going to appear late.
Before I start telling you about this amazing place I've arrived at, let me first tell you about the journey. I spent the flight from London to Delhi with two Mamagi Grannies on their way home. We had some very smiley conversations even though they didn't speak any english and I don't speak any gujerati. Shamefully I didn't even know (still don't) if its gugerati they were speaking. I also spent the flight watching The Hangover, trying to sleep and oogling a guy a few rows ahead of me on the flight who had the most gorgeous arms/face/hair hahahaha
Anyway, before leaving London I'd met most of our group and already hit it off with Tessa who reminds me of my mum (hello mum!) www.tessapullen.co.uk and so when we got to Delhi to wait for our flight to Kathmandu Tessa, Jayne, Toni and I were hanging out. They said I should go and talk to the man with nice everything - but I'm pretty timid when it comes to approaching guys y'know...But ladies together are pushy... And then I kid you not, one of the airport staff came up to me and said "the man you are looking for is downstairs" I said "sorry?"
Thinking cynically I thought this was some kind of ambush, but Tessa took me by the arm and frog marched me to the downstairs departure gate, and sure enough there was the chap, waiting for the flight for Kathmandu. So Tessa asked him if it was at the right gate for Kathmandu then left me there to talk to this chap called Emil, who is Swedish and going to be a rafting guide in Nepal for 3 months.
We switched seats so we could sit next to each other for the flight, and all I can say about that is that I hope we will see each other again before I leave for London.
Now that's more "personal" info than I usually put on my blog but I know a few readers who will want to know this stuff and it was just so strange that I had to mention it before I speak about anything else.
My first 3 hours in India spent in Delhi airport I didn't get to see much. When I walked out with Emil to get the next flight I was hit my a huge wave of heat that I hadn't realised anything about in the terminal. It was 30degrees there or more, and it seemed quite flat and lush. The flight to Katmandu was maybe 2 hours in a smaller plane than London-Delhi. I had been told by the air hostess on the flight from L.A. earlier this year that landing in Kathmandu was an amazing experience. Unfortunatley it was pretty cloudy coming in to Nepal, but you could still see the huge tree covered hills rising out of the clouds with little houses dotted about. It looked so fantastic it was truley hard to take in, and still feel like its unreal.
Upon arrival in the airport that Emil thinks looks like a military bunker we're greeted with hand painted signs about Swine Flu and people in masks and an extra form to fill out asking whether we feel short of breath. Then there's the visa application and arrival form to fill out. The paper is very thin and my pen kept going through it. The visa application centre has no computers and long queues. I make friends with some french old boys going up a mountain. Emil and I are taking bets on which group of mountaineers look most likely to succeed with their escapades. The three Germans look like a good bet. Its humid and overcast in Kathmandu and not so hot as Delhi. I go through the pleasant confusion of getting a visa where the chap behind the desk likes my name very much and tries to let me jump the queue but the lady with the stapler and scissors gets a bit mad with him.
After picking up paddles and saying goodbye we're hearded off to our bus and greeted with scarves and a welcome to Nepal. I saw a bus with its roof covered in goats and monkeys, wild, sitting on the fence and fumes rising from the funeral pyres. What a mad place! We arrive at the hotel about 4pm, and I'm sorry to say I haven't seen much more of Katmandu yet. But this hotel is a wonder! Constitued from pieces of other old buildings its red brick and wood carving and trees and vines and really pretty enchanting. I jumped in the pool as soon as I could, then we ate dinner at the hotel and I got tired and went to bed! Having not slept on the flight though, its understandable. But now its the middle of the night and I'm awake. So I'm gonna give sleep another try now, as we leave for Bhutan tomorrow and I don't want to miss a thing!

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Departures

2009-09-26T19:35:00.000+01:00

My mum says she's never seen me so excited about anything. With excitement comes nerves. And I am very nervous. My mums worried that I'm so excited it will be a dissapointment. I'm worried now that I've started on this adventure that it will be over too soon.
So here I am sitting here in the departure lounge waiting for the flight. I'm with my new friend Tessa who's talking to her daughter on the phone about make up she had to buy her in duty free.
There's a load of Princes trust women on this flight who's matching tshirts say that they're changing young people's lives. Thing I've noticed about female Prince's trust volunteers - they all wear sensible knickers and zippy off trousers I despise (no I still don't have a pair of zippy trousers)
There's a lady with purple hair in my group. They all seem good fun.
I'm getting less nervous now after eating Toblerone. It'll be my first time in India - if only for a few hours in Delhi before leaving for Kathmandu.
Still can't think straight about all this. I'm going to Kathmandu! Hahaha wooo!

Sent from my BlackBerry® wireless device

Where am i going exactly?

2009-09-23T00:17:00.004+01:00

Whilst i sip on my mint and camomile tea in my comfy bed safe(!) in London and think on what i've forgotten to do before i leave on holiday, i thought i might take 5 mins to post some pictures of things i might see over the next couple of weeks.

I will be updating this blog from my travels by email, and i may be able to drop in a photo or two on http://www.talitatwoshoes.tumblr.com/ but really i just want to keep a travel diary so that i can remember the adventures.

So as a prelude:

KATHMANDU in NEPAL

PARO in BHUTAN

THIMPHU in BHUTAN

A TSECHU in BHUTAN

PUNAKHA in BHUTAN

THE POTALA PALACE in TIBET

TSEDANG in TIBET

THE YARLUNG VALLEY in TIBET

SAMYE MONASTERY in TIBET

THE JOKHANG TEMPLE in TIBET
And The NORBULINGKA in TIBET

If i ever ever think that life is unfair or that i have a rough deal, i am very foolish.

I can only hope its even a tenth of how amazing it looks in these photos.

I am a very lucky girl.

QUAKE!

2009-09-21T13:05:00.002+01:00

So it's the Monday before the trip. 5 days to go, and an earthquake has just hit Bhutan. Apparently the epicentre was 110 miles east of Thimphu where i will be going next week.

It measured 6.3 on the Richter scale, and apparently has caused damage to temples and blocked roads, but there are no reports of large-scale damage, so at the moment i'm still heading to Bhutan next week.

Strangely enough, there was an earthquake the day before i arrived in L.A. this year too. I'm beginning to feel like a harbinger of doom.

Shangri-La

2009-09-18T09:57:00.003+01:00

Its recently occured to me that i'm visiting the area that has mythically been called Shangri-La. Shangri-La. A fictional place? Like a Utopia.

I remember studying Thomas Moore's Utopia at school. Utopia meaning No place. An ideal.
I'm not an idealist. I've never thought of going to Tibet as some ideal, perfect forbidden city. It's a long way from that these days. I think i even expect to be saddened by how unlike the garden of eden it once was painted like it is in present day.
Thomas Moore's Utopia depicted his ideal political system and state, the best kind of republic.
I'm not sure Shangri-La had the same connotations, but its ironic if it did, as apparently Tibet (Tibet Autonomous region) , China and Pakistan have all claimed that Shangri-La was within their geographical boundaries.
Shangri-La was described in the 1933 novel 'Lost Horizon' by James Hilton, a book which i intend to read on holiday! The phrase "Shangri-La" most probably comes from the Tibetan ཞང་,"Shang - a district of Tsang, north of Tashilhunpo" + རི, pronounced "ri", "Mountain" = "Shang Mountain" + ལ, Mountain Pass, which suggests that the area is accessed to, or is named by, "Shang Mountain Pass".

Some think Bhutan is the last 'Shangri-La' now because of its unspoilt nature.

Some think Shangri-La is a state of mind.

I never thought i was going on a search for Shangri-La, i've heard of people doing that. I'm sure it was something that was really popular in the 1970's! But in some ways that's exactly what this is!

One week to go. I can still hadly think about it for being so moved.

Its nice to dream, some say its one of the things that differenciates humans from animals. But i think cats dream, and dogs dream, and orangutangs dream... animals dream.

But i dont think any of them are so stupid or naieve to dream of a Utopia. Wishful thinking. It's beautiful.

So much of my current life is taken up with thinking of 'the fall' and the temptation rather than the idea of the Garden of Eden.

Sex, drugs and rock n roll - i'm sure its some people's ideal, but it wasn't the Utopian place that has been dreamt of in this literature, and in sober moments i'm sure its not what metalheads would really want.

I'm a pretty sober person, who's practical, not so much a dreamer as a do-er.

So here i am going to the mythical Shangri-La. Will i dispell a myth? Or will i find out how what came before 'the fall' was so much better than the aftermath.

In terms of the myth of the Garden of Eden, the innocence Adam and Eve were supposed to have before Eve bit into the apple from the tree of knowledge... that kind of innocence of being un-aware - that doesn't seem like paradise to me. Ignorance, one of the 3 major poisons in Buddhism (Ignorance, Hatred and Lust). Ignorance, something we were meant to aspire to when wanting to return to a Garden of Eden like state.

The apple Eve took - from the Tree of knowledge of Good and Evil - that made (hu)man aware of lust, sin etc.

I have most surely partaken in that most dichordant apple as a daughter of Eve, but surely its only when you've seen that can you appreciate Utopia/Shangri-La - i dunno, do people in Bhutan think that they're in paradise?

And is it true that once you've partaken in the apple you can never return? And would you really want to if you could?

Well i'm getting on a plane in a week, i'm not ....returning! I'm just visiting.

And i can't wait.

Are you ready?

2009-09-03T08:32:00.003+01:00

Are you ready?

23 days to go! Am I ready? The easy answer is no. But I’m getting there.
In my mind I had a plan. I always have a plan. I planned that before I left for Tibet I would have read all the Tibet-related books on my shelves and understood some of the Buddhist philosophy I’ve been trying to understand, or more believe than understand. Such as “The Tibetan book of living and dying” by Sogyal Rinpoche. Which I haven’t got through… yet. And I can’t say I totally ‘get’ yet.
“Learning to live is learning to let go”
I understand the concept. But I am wary of one line generalisations. But it’s a good one. But you have to first hold on to things in order to have something to let go of.
I think its all well and good basing things in the mind and knowing that everything you do and see is filtered through your mind, and that mind is capricious etc and essentially unreal… but I want action. I am a girl of action. This year I wanted to take action, get things done tick them off the list. Accomplish. DO… stuff.
It says at the beginning of “The Tibetan book of living and dying” that there are different types of laziness and procrastination… those that sit around doing nothing, and those that fill their days with things to do avoiding whats important. Buzzing with things and avoiding the issue. But surely its a good feeling, ticking things off the list - like starting physio, or sorting out old boxes of books... etc.
And too much sitting around thinking makes me sad.
Introspection makes me sad. Doing makes me happy. Maybe i'm never gonna be a Buddhist.
Maybe that's not a bad thing.
Am i ready?
In my mind this trip is a big deal on every level. Not just financial, but personal, spiritual, physical, mental - definitely mental.
I've been thinking i should prepare myself, prepare my mind, but either i'm avoiding it or procrastinating or both - cause i'm not getting through these books very quick and i still haven't finished my injections! Or my insurance!
And now i'm avoiding cracking on cause i'm writing a fucking blog!
I better go... or i'm gonna end up shouting at myself!!

Hip hip hooray

2009-09-01T22:08:00.006+01:00

DISLOCATED HIPS

I was born with dislocated hips. When i was little i used to have to have to see a specialist. He was old and called Dr. Catterell. I had to see him every Friday, then every year, then every 5 years, then i stopped when i was 18. I guess Dr. Catterell is probably dead now, and i was never really that troubled by my hip problems - partly because i never really did any sport, and partly because i thought it was part of me being 'special'. Seriously. I think part of me was like 'oooh Talita, you are special cause you're hips dont work so well'
My sister also had dislocated hips, when she was born they put her in plaster and her hips set, the end. When i was in utereo my mum could hear my hips clicking so she knew i too had dislocated hips although the docs poo-hoo'ed her sure enough when i popped out my little legs were all over the place. The docs put me in a frog splint, which my mum knew was wrong, and complained and they gave her a kind of 'shut up nervous mum' attitude, but she could still hear my hips clicking, so she knew it wasn't right. After 6 months my hips hadn't set so they then put me in plaster and after i was a year it was all ok.
Obviously i don't remember this myself - this is the story so it goes.

Apparently with congenital dislocated hips-
" Some studies suggest a hormonal link. Specifically the hormone relaxin has been indicated.
A genetic factor is indicated by the trait running in families and increased occurrence in some ethnic populations (e.g. native Americans, Lapps/ Sami people). A locus has been described on chromosome 13. Beukes familial dysplasia, on the other hand, was found to map to an 11-cM region on chromosome 4q35. With nonpenetrant carriers not affected."

I don't know what a nonpenetrant carrier is, but i'm not Native American, Lapp or Sami.

Anyway, now and again throughout my life i've come into difficulty. Now and again one hip or the other would completely give way. But mostly its no problem. Just clicky clicky clicky.

But then again i have never been a sporty person. Partly because of laziness, partly because of embarrassement, partly because sometimes you have a choice of sport of music and i chose music and partly because lacrosse sucks.

However i do LOVE rollerskating. I have always loved rollerskating. I had a big 10 year break in rollerskating after i ruined both my knees skating outdoors down primrose hill with no knee pads and getting a twig stuck between my wheels.

I joined London Rollergirls 2 years ago. I wanted to skate more. As you can see from the little photo of me at the rollerdisco though, my knees bend inwards and i look a bit odd. Apparently i have been compensating for my hips through my knees etc for a long time. Not suprisingly when it came to crossovers i found them really difficult. In my own way i paid no attention though and just thought i was 'special' cause of my hips and that i would find a way round it.

I left London Rollergirls before Christmas as i was having more and more pain in my hips and i didn't have the time. I put of going for physio, then i got on a waiting list. Then my hips got a whole lot worse after the 14hr flight from Buenos Aires and i had an x-ray. Then after swapping docs and another wait, i eventually had physio yesterday for the first time ever.

I'm not sure they did physio so much in the 80's when i was little, but i learnt alot in a short space of time yesterday and had a bit of a shock. I mean, i guess i never thought about it all too much, but the muscles around my hips are shockingly bad apparently and i have been compensating in different ways for a long time - making my knees go bendy inwards (hence my duck waddle walk), using my ribcage and arms to get up more than my pelvis muscles etc.

So no i have 2 exercises i have to do 20 times a day, and then i have to go back in 2 weeks. She says i'll be able to skate and run and swim breaststroke again in 6 months if i'm good, but that i need to improve my muscletone and that now's the time to do it before i end up with arthritis.

So hip hip hooray for physio. Although it hurts a bit. Another thing i'm gonna get done in 2009. Honest guv.

Municipal Waste crowd surfing attempt @ Bloodstock

2009-08-25T09:54:00.003+01:00

I just found this on youtube and thought i would share:

Please look closely at the girl on stage with the blonde hair! hahahaha

Life's a beach!

2009-08-24T21:49:00.005+01:00

Here's some photos from my weekend at my parents new place!

Playing cricket! Got the fever! Now we've won The Ashes back!

Looks so idyllic!

Unfortunately this follows my Blackberry being nicked! So nice to have a break! Out of contact too! But damn those thieves!

Bloodstock Open Air 2009 - Festival number 8

2009-08-19T09:23:00.009+01:00

This was my first Bloodstock festival. I remember in previous years getting to the point of Bloodstock in August and being festivaled out and never going before. There's only so many festivals you can take right?
Wrong! Bring it on! I'm in swing of this now!!
So Tony Foresta (MW) flew into London for a Kerrang shoot and Ol Drake (Evile) was in London doing press so the 3 of us and Louise (Terrorizer) set off in the hire car Friday morning bright and early to get to Bloodstock.
I won't lie to you, i don't like driving hire cars. I don't like driving on the motorway, i don't like having such precious cargo or 3 rockstars, i don't like the fact that I'm personally and financially liable, i don't like the fact the car has only done 8 miles before (probably in rap lyrics)
AND i hate GPS. I'm meant to be looking at the road! And this pink road, red road, arrows going up and down etc is just annoying
Anyway, enough bitching about hire cars (this partially also stems from my first and only car i ever owned, my 1973 Fiat 126 which frequently fell apart at speeds over 60mph) after a smooth ride, picking up The Sun and The Metro on route (that had MW in) we arrive at Bloodstock, drive backstage and get everyone out. 3 hours before MW showtime. Press to do, booklets to sign, plans to make, records to break - plenty to do.
Because Municipal Waste had, onstage in Norway earlier that week at Oya festival, burnt a cardboard church onstage - http://www.dagbladet.no/2009/08/12/kultur/oyafestivalen/musikk/municipal_waste/7627076/
magazines had been asking what antics they would get up to at Bloodstock. The pressure was on. 20 mins before show time Tony decided. "Talita, you have a notepad, you're from the Guinness book of records we're gonna do a crowd surfing record attempt"
Ok win. No problem.
So the set looked like this:

Then after playing Black Ice, Tony tells the crowd how he has a special treat for them and introduces Gwendolyn... (that's me) i walk on stage with a little wave, sunglasses on, thinking "no one is gonna believe this crock of shit" Tony explains I'm there to record MW breaking the crowd surfing record attempt. I've seen record attempts before, they would have to define what crowd surfing is, explain what counts and doesn't count, and definitely have more than one person with a piece of paper and a pen to count the numbers properly.

As it is when the song kicks in, its impossible to count the numbers of legs, arms, flailing and waving and dumping themselves over the barriers. I try to keep up with ¦ ¦ ¦ ¦ ¦ written all over my page on my clipboard with my marker pen. But the truth is like many of those crowd surfing attempts out there, I'm drowning! No worries. This isn't for real and my anxious, counting face is playing its part. Half way through the track Tony stops, the bass and drums keep going, he comes over to me and says "look like you're saying something to me" and i say "like what?!" and he says "SHE SAYS WE HAVE 75 MORE TO GO!!" and they kick back in. More rapid ¦ ¦ ¦ ¦ ¦ scribbles.

At the end of the track when heaps of people, like lemmings, have gone over the barrier, more than the security staff could cope with, when injured, blooded Waste fans, hungry for more, had surfed their hearts out Tony comes up to me and says "How many we get?" i had been desperately trying to count my ¦ ¦ ¦ ¦ and I'd got to 128. "428!!!!" Tony screams for the stage "We've broken the record!!" win. Hahahaha. Municipal Waste are fucking winners! I love them. Yes!

I scurry offstage.

Later on during the signing session Tony ended up signing kids injuries from the record attempt. One or two asked for the total crowd surfers, he pointed at me and said "Ask Gwendolyn".

I just nodded politely, and looked like i didn't speak english.

Later on mucho hanging out. All MW apart from Tony were staying the rest of the weekend too. I found a bottle of vodka courtesy of Seregon, which ended up with Louise and i coming across a game called Forkie Forkie near the fair ground rides.

With the help of my friend Dutch Frank, Louise fell in love with this game about a fork and started eulogising about how wonderful and socially aware this game was, and how she never was a team player until now. Forkie forkie convert.

The next day was mainly taken up with Evile press. Then cocktail o'clock.
I like to think I'm good at making cocktails. Even if Evile weren't so sure.

Later on we ended up in the fairground, trying to do a shoot for Terrorizer.

At some point after the Waltzers and Dodgems, Louise and Lucy Darkness passed out.

So the last day of Bloodstock.

Headbanging, more Evile press, Sabaton, and driving back to London with Mike and Ol from Evile - Louise and i entertained them all the way home by singing Madonna at the top of our voices.

Here's the Earache crew at the stall.

And one last look at Bloodstock during Turisas' set.

First Bloodstock, probably not the last! 8th Festival this summer DONE!!

Only Reading and Leeds to go!

Jab jab poke poke 5 weeks to go!!

2009-08-19T08:59:00.005+01:00

So i now have 5 weeks to go until i leave for Nepal, Bhutan and Tibet. Even though I'm only away for just over 2 weeks i still have to have some jabs. Trying to work out which ones isn't so easy "consult your doctor" it says.
So i can tell you i definitely don't need the Yellow Fever jab - as that only occurs in South America and Africa.

I've had 2 jabs so far which are handily combined vaccines - Hepatitis A, & Typhoid fever and Diphtheria (which my Nan once collapsed of on the stairs when she was a kid), Tetanus and Polio.

Now i have to decide whether i want the Meningitis jab - The travel Meningitis jab isn't the same as the immunisation you get just for the UK - Here in the UK you get a meningitis C jab which lasts for life - the travel vaccine is A,C, U or something.
All this jab business is very complicated. You have to do your homework it seems.
Rabies is another one that takes a decision.

Its endemic in Asia, but it is in most places, even in Europe.If you get the jabs you need to get to a hospital within 24hours for a top up. If you don't get the jabs you need to get to a hospital within 24hours for jabs. I like animals and will probably want to stroke a cat or hug a monkey whilst I'm away... but do i need 3 jabs in advance... ugh i dunno. Can i not just control myself and not hug a bat?

Ahhh Malaria. Not a jab but tablets. Tablets that can make you sick. Bhutan has malaria, but only in the lower areas of the country that I'm not going to. Same with Kathmandu. So I've decided I'm not taking anti-malarials.

Oh jabs! What a lot of fun they are! There's still loads more disease-related stuff i have to read up on, and work out what precautions I'm meant to take against altitude sickness etc.
5 weeks to go, and I'm trying to be organised. I went to the docs too to get a repeat prescription for my inhalers - he said "5 weeks ahead! you're very organised!"
But i was there planning jabs anyway...
Now i look like a hypochondriac! I've never had jabs for travelling before. I've never bothered. But because I'm going by myself I'm just trying to be safe... cause although there's a hospital in Kathmandu and Thimphu there isn't anywhere else.
And at least if i get this out the way asap, then i can think about all the fun stuff to do with the trip!
I have no fear of needles, and jabs don't scare me at all, in fact i hardly felt them, just felt a bit weird for a few hours after but nothing major. I really want to be able to enjoy my trip as best i can. That's why i don't want to take anti-malarials!

Bye bye 169!!

2009-08-08T08:41:00.005+01:00

Bye bye 169!

Bye bye Dad's Dahlias and the acer tree and the fir trees and the willow tree that grew from a cutting of the tree near the Ickenham guide hut!

Bye bye conservatory that got lifted over the top of the house by a big crane that stopped traffic and caused a big hold up that i heard about on the radio on the way to school.

Bye bye kitchen that was once my playroom

Bye bye upstairs of the house and Mum on the landing of the upstairs of the house and the stairs that creaked and the wallpaper that was so flowery

Bye bye 169! I will miss you! But now we've left i feel sadder about Zosma my cat who is left buried in the garden for the new owners than i do about moving on. Life is change and this change was well overdue.

Ghosts from the past

2009-08-06T09:27:00.002+01:00

Recently i seem to be haunted by ghosts from the past. Not real ghosts but memories of errors and near-misses, and let downs, and even people. (Facebook has a way of doing that)
Its not a problem, it just makes me reflective and melancholy. Which is not my favourite default position. I think i'm in a state ready to remember because i'm about to have a huge change in my life, which is that 1pm tomorrow my parents move out of the house i grew up in. Up until yesterday i thought i would feel nothing, as i've been so busy it hasn't bothered me, then yesterday i started feeling sad about it. It really is the end of an era. My mum has been living in that house for over 50 years. It was the only house i knew until my twenties. It is a monument to the perfections and imperfections of my family and the trials and tribulations they've undergone over the years. Its big black and white majesty with the drive that's like a round-about that's a test for any potential boyfriend of a daughter to reverse round. Its chilly, its creaky, its improvised and not digitalised and full of christmases and first days of school.
My parents don't throw things away easily. Not even plastic bags. We've only ever had 2 cars in our house, the blue volvo and the white volvo. We still have the white volvo. I cried when we sold the blue volvo GLY 639T.
I'm going to say goodbye to 169 tonight after work.
I like to embrace change, but i think it may cause a few tears.

Sonisphere! Festival number 7

2009-08-04T17:21:00.010+01:00

My first festival of the summer where i wasn't working! Win!

And the first Sonisphere festival (in the UK) at Knebworth!

My first Knebworth festival to boot.

I went down Saturday morning with Louise, Kat (who's recently graduated as a nurse! well done Kat!), Marc, James and Khaled. Getting to spend a weekend with friends is such a treat! Especially my girls Kat and Louise!

So because i wasn't working and we were all going down together, i decided i should camp - hell! we should all camp together.

I was even excited about camping.

Khaled had a 12 person tipee, and inflatable chairs. Luxury camping!

Knebworth is about an hour from central London, so its no trouble to get to. We had some trouble with the VIP camping already being full, but after an hour or so wait (put to good use whilst drinking) - and you gotta expect some teething problems with a first year.

We got to see Sylosis before we waited for putting the tents up

And then Sylosis front man Jamie got a good beating with an inflatable Gladiator pugil stick courtesy of Mark back at the campsite. That'll show him for putting on a good show and getting a huge circle pit going during which i nearly got stuck to a half naked sweaty hairy man. Ugh.

Look at that peaceful campsite and sunset after torrential heavy rain that unfortunately fell down hard during Heaven and Hell's set
I <3>

I got to go and see my friend Nadia who works in the Dio camp later that night - i waved hi to Dio himself too - but hung out with Nadia as i don't get to see her alot.

It was nice to catch up with people i'd work with at festivals earlier on in the summer under less pressurised conditions.

Later on i was reminded why i hate camping.

So bloody cold! Ugh!

After a couple of hours sleep whilst freezing sun was up and it was boiling. Ugh! No happy medium!

Sunday was a great day at Sonisphere. Despite walking round like a hedge born unkempt lost zombie mess for the first few hours i soon got into the swing of it, and the lovely sunny day was a great improvement on the torrential rain of the day before. I ran into some friends from festivals earlier this year... which produced some hilarious afternoon moments

Sunday night was the mighty Metallica!

(It was Hetfields birthday and the end of tour so he got covered in cream pies by his kids - nice)

So, good end to my first non-work festival of the year! Win!

And so nice to have no-pressure hang time with my friends.

I really like Knebworth as a venue for a festival too. Hope it happens again next year!

Blondie!!

2009-08-04T16:13:00.007+01:00

BLONDES have more FUN!!

My absolute favourite blonde. Jayne Mansfield. Star of one of my favourite movies "The girl can't help it".

Sadly killed in a freak car accident in 1967 at the age of 34.

The most beautiful Marilyn Monroe.

Gorgeously curvy and vivacious. Gentlemen prefer blondes. So glamorous.

And why am i showing you my favourite blondes?

Including another movie star i love - Doris Day Calamity Jane

And Mitzy Gaynor - star of South Pacific....

And more up to date - Blondie herself...

Because I've recently chopped it all and gone completely blonde. I've wanted to for at least 5 years. Last week i just did it.

Los Angeles

2009-08-04T10:40:00.026+01:00

Sometimes it takes me a while to get around to writing up blogs, just because so much happened in such a short space of time it takes a while to compute properly so i get some kind of perspective.
L.A. was a whirlwind of Jon Leon (White Wizzard) High Speed G.T.O. (he actually picked us up from the airport in it!!)

To beaches, pools, valleys and the hot hot sun, not to mention the crazy antics of the band i went to visit - White Wizzard, and the drinking in the Rainbow and breakfasts of more carbohydrate and sugar than a gingerbread house.

Anyway, its hard to do an 11hour flight and 8 hour time difference without getting jet lag - and the shame of the short trip to L.A. is that you try to experience everything you can but sometimes there's weights strapped to your head trying to make you horizontal as quickly as possible - that said - its still great fun to travel and always a thrill to meet bands that i work with for the first time. So i was pleased to have the chance to meet them and make the journey out there for this Kerrang piece.

So first things first - we check in to the Andaz (what was the Riot Hyatt) and then go to Rainbow bar and grill. I get very drunk on what i thought was only a couple of drinks, but combined with plane food and jet lag i was out of it.

I couldn't even contemplate a huge breakfast the next morning with Jon, Lucy and Nick. Looking at "The Stack" of "Yellow brick road" pancakes was difficult enough, let alone eating anything.

We hung out by the pool

It was on the roof top of the hotel with a fantastic panoramic view of L.A.

And i managed to get my game face back on by the time the whole band were together and ready to do the Kerrang shoot

Here's a picture Neil Visel, the photographer took of us all together where the shoot took place - just off this windy hilly road in the hills 5 minutes from the beach.

Cars were driving by and tooting or "throwing the horns" the whole time. It was quite surreal. There we were parked in a lay by after a bend in the road, with a camera, lights, the GTO, 2 trucks and a load of metal dudes. And me and Lucy, bikinis still on (under our other clothes)chlorine in my hair, fussing about with leather and studs.

After the shoot we drove 5 mins to the beach

The beach was covered in these purple things that were not avocados (as Nick first thought) they moved and pulsated and had slimey protrusions and i tried to save some of them (they were washed up). Nick stepped on one and it bled purple.

Lucy and Jesse checked out the sand crabs

Riding in a High speed GTO on the freeway is pretty fucking windy.

There's no way you can have any kind of hair decorum left. Especially after pool and beach and shoot, i don't know how these movie stars do it. You do not look glamorous in the back of a convertible on the freeway.

We went to a German eatery to do the K! interview and get a beer. I was very awake in the back of the car with the wind blowing strong and Wyatt "screamin demon" (WW singer) and Chad (WW guitarist) on either side of me chatting shit down the freeway, but when we arrived in the warm i couldn't keep my eyes open!

I didn't eat this German sausage as i fell asleep on the seat. It makes a good face though.

Early night, early morning
Breakfast at Mel's diner on Sunset Blvd. I did eat these waffles!

Milkshakes for breakfast are an indulgence. But how can you not in a diner?

We hung out at the pool - our last full day in LA - With Erik (WW guitarist) and my friend Greg Marcks ( http://www.gregmarcks.com/Greg_Marcks/INTRO.html )

I thought it would be most rude if having travelled all the way to the other side of the planet i didn't make time to see my other L.A. band Bonded by blood, especially after having waited 3 hours for them at Heathrow and they'd never shown up (as they got lost / missed flights from Budapest at the end of their last tour) and i was so worried about them! So we arranged a WW BBB K! meet up that night at a Mexican restaurant of Jon Leon's choice.

Before meeting up with Bonded by blood we rifled through a second hand store by the Mexican restaurant. Lucy got bored and had a tattoo, but i was thrilled with trying on old American second hand clothes.

Here's Me, Erik and Nick sporting some jaunty head gear.

And looking very sun burnt to boot.

I think Lucy should have got this Cher tour bomber jacket. What a winning find. Hahaha.

So our last night in L.A. we met up at a Mexican restaurant, 2 bands together. Some lady in the loos wanted to know if there was anyone famous at our table. She told me she'd once slept with Jimi Hendrix. She looked about 70. Maybe she had.

Again, i was feeling the jet lag and lovely Jon Leon dropped me off for a cat nap whilst the others went off to Chad's to drink.

1.30am they picked me up from the hotel and we went to Rainbow bar and grill again - as BBB are so young (some of them are only 19) we couldn't all get in and it shut at 2am anyway! So stupidity continued on the streets!

One of the best moments of the trip. I have no idea who defaced that poster. Ahem. But that band wear wigs to do pastiche metal to people who want to pigeon hole longhairs. Nuff said.

The real metal bands - like White Wizzard are where it's at! Fuck off Steel Panther!

The next morning Lucy and I had breakfast with Eric off Hollywood Blvd and then got attacked by some Hollywood Blvd characters (i HATE horror movies hence my facial expression below!!)

Then the long flight back home to London.

Big thanks for White Wizzard for making us feel so welcome!

Here's the Kerrang article in print:

This is L.A.

2009-07-14T16:37:00.003+01:00

I'm sitting in bed at the Riot Hyatt feeling like my stomach and head are gonna twist out my ear after a night out at The Rainbow bar and grill.
I feel so rock n roll right now. I can't even tell you.

The Plane that Rocked

2009-07-14T16:33:00.001+01:00

The plane that rocked

So here I am flying over Godthab in Greenland on my way to L.A.
Godthab, Greenland. Home of the Vikings. Very inhospitable, cold, icy home.
And only a semi-permanent home upon excursions for pillage from Scandinavian shores.
It’s interesting the idea of launching and leaving for a better place when things get rough. Or looking for new horizons. It takes a lot of guts I think. It’s not just running away, its braving the unknown. Leaving known boundaries, rules, territory.
Can you imagine being in a time when there were still places on earth unexplored? What a rush! What a nerve. What a great hope.

I feel the same kind of jealousy for the joy of exploration and discovery when watching “The Boat that Rocked” and thinking about radio - I just saw there film here on the plane. Bringing rock to the masses, introducing people to Hendrix to people for the first time, whilst he was alive I can only imagine what that was like. Presenting radio back in 1966 wasn’t like it is now. At that point it was before the conventions and mainstays of radio existed, when every show was still a discovery, and every piece of vinyl that arrived in your letterbox a potential new treasure. When Djs were the listeners connection with music and new releases, when presenters had the ability to change the outlook of music totally, introduce new bands and new types of music – even import music like the blues, and through the presenters understanding and connection to it, thousands of new converts then came to the altar of rock n roll.
Nowadays, there are so many bands, so many demos, so many new tapes. Legends like John Peel managed to make their way through all or most of what was sent to them, but if you are a presenter with a very full time job too, it’s unrealistic to do that.
But the cynicism is what is more annoying – my cynicism to new arrivals in my letterbox, compared with my total admiration for old masters, and my fervent wish that I could play listeners music that would change their lives the way that the original radio presenters did at the dawn of rock n roll.
Rock n roll should be rebellious, now however radio is mostly inside the law. Especially in rock – and its ironic that the only pirate radio stations these days are pretty much jungle or reggae. It said at the end of “The boat that rocked” that there’s something like 299 stations in the UK now that play rock and pop 24/7. None of those I should think are pushing the boundaries and breaking the law like music radio did in the early days. I would love to be able to push the envelope with my shows more – but what is there to do that hasn’t been done already – Howard Stern took most things as far as they could go, and in reality his kind of shock jock is more about the jock than the music, and what I really love is being able to play people music that I love that they end up loving too.
A discovery. A new continent. Although I get the feeling that if Rock n roll was the Continent, Metal was a state, and nowadays I just got the crumbs.
That’s not to belittle the new bands out there that I love – Wolf, Grand Magus, Municipal Waste, Cauldron etc.
But when you compare the first spin of those records to the first hearing of Sabbath…ever.
Or the first time the blues was played on UK shores.
You can’t really say its on the same level.
Its like I was down on Greenland in the cold, and those moments at the beginning of the airwaves were at 10363m, like this plane is now.

It’s a great film though!

SHhhh!

2009-07-11T09:00:00.002+01:00

Shhh!

Keeping secrets and telling lies

I have never been one to keep my mouth shut. I have a big gob. I’m a radio presenter it comes with the territory. I kissed the blarney stone at age 8, and I’ve never looked back, I always talk back. It’s not just saying things out loud though; it’s an openness that I can’t do without. I have to get things off my chest, I find it very hard to hold my cards close, and I find it hurts to keep secrets.
I am such a big mouth I say too much sometimes – my father’s one big piece of advice to me before I went to University was
“Talita, why don’t you try and keep a bit of mystery about you? Try not to tell everyone everything straight away”
(In fact he had a similar piece of advice for me the first year I presented on Download radio for BBC 6, but keeping schtum isn’t a good plan when presenting on the radio).

When I say keep secrets, I don’t mean ones like a surprise birthday party, I mean things I’m not sure even I wanted to know in the first place. Events that you end up being party to, that you would have preferred to have avoided. Bad news. Even when keeping secrets as a favour to someone, in order to help them out I think sometimes it’s a heavy burden. It’s difficult to weigh up the pros and cons of keeping things hidden, especially when its goes against your essential nature.
You have to ask yourself why. Why am I doing this if I would rather just be honest? From my perspective keeping quiet is a trial.
Someone once said “the truth will out”. Is that always for the best?
I don’t know. Some things are better left unsaid.
And is it the same thing – keeping secrets and telling lies?
If you avoid the truth is it the same as being dishonest. I dunno. In my heart it feels the same, and in my mind it affects me the same.
As a favour though, all you can do is remind yourself of why you keep that person’s secrets and why you value them, and why some things are better left unsaid.
But oh! For the simple life!

I however am no saint. I am a loud mouth, as I’ve mentioned, loud and proud. And proud of my indiscretions, idiocies, idiosyncrasies and stupidity. Everyone ends up knowing my business. I tend to tell everyone about my fails.
Some people think this kind of approach is crazy, but I just think there’s humour in everything, and a smile is well worth it.
Talking of taboos, secrets and lies…
Although I understand “what goes on tour, stays on tour” etc. Do you really think that it does stay caught in time, caught in a bus or at a festival out there on tour? Action and consequence. There’s a ripple effect that’s undeniable.
I often think of guys on tour in comparison to sailors –a girl in every port. I can understand that impulse as a guy. Sew your wild oats.
I think girls can have that kind of impulse too, for sure. But there are a lot less girls who are sailors, and a lot less girls on tour than guys.
So as a girl who is on tour sometimes, works festivals, sees things how do you separate what you see and experience from your own opinion of men in general? And who do you blame when guys cheat? And are you meant to just shut your eyes to it or should you invoke the creed of sisterhood and say “hoes before bros” and tell your sistas.
It’s easy to become jaded, and think that all men act like that and therefore all men are scum. I see a lot of things I have to try and forget in order to still have faith in the essential good character of people and in order to not get involved in what isn’t my business due to my big gob.
Luckily I have been blessed with a very bad memory. I can’t remember shit. I put this down to too much going on in my life, and not enough time to properly store memories correctly. According to M. Scott Peck (I’m still reading that same book!) we never forget anything really, it just slips in to our unconscious mind and we can’t recall it.
But ignorance is clearly bliss.

Municipal Waste are gonna fuck you up

2009-07-11T08:31:00.004+01:00

When kids chant at shows “Municipal Waste are gonna fuck you up” over and over from the end of Born to Party, I always smile. I like the irony. Like an invading force’s marching song, at the precipice of leaving the barracks, leaving the country, entering new territory. “Municipal Waste are gonna fuck you up”. The Swedes shout it, the Germans shout it, and kids in clubs shout it when born to party gets played on the dance floor. And I smile. It is unclear what side the kids are on. Are they part of the invading force doing the fucking up? Are they the ones that are going to be fucked up? Have they already been fucked up and are advocating it as a good thing? Maybe they have been fucked up by the ‘Waste and are chanting it as a warning. Maybe they are just chanting it. In fact, I’m sure that it’s the latter. However, some of those kids out there, some people that hear that track have actually been fucked up with the ‘Waste – I don’t know if that constitutes Municipal Waste being responsible as in “Municipal Waste have fucked me up” but it is damn near it. Everyone seems to want to get fucked up with the Waste.
I’ve never worked with a band that seems to have so many friends everywhere. Partly through hard touring, partly from the fact that people party with the Waste and then are friends for life. I think it’s a great thing, as a band to engender the kind of feeling that comes with a festival party ambience. To break down the 4th wall that divides audience from band, to welcome people into the family – to get fucked up together.
However, I’ve seen this open armed approach backfire, not only from constant stage invasions which invariably leads to equipment being trashed especially pedals and a halt to proceedings due to technical difficulties, but also from the assumption that that’s all there is to the ‘Waste – when there is undeniably more there than just a spirit (spirits).
Anyway, irrespective of time moving on and the new album being called Massive Aggressive and not The Art of Partying anymore, the Waste still like to party, and I knew that when Ryan and Tony came to London for a week of press it was going to be full on. Because its not just drinking and hanging out its doing bucket loads of interviews and taking care of business, especially now that people are realising there’s more to the Waste than just the fact that they’re gonna fuck you up.
And it is a fact, I can vouch for that.
So we had a listening party at the Crobar to celebrate the new album. It was a nice hot summer day and the bar was packed. This was the 4th London party I’d arranged for the Waste – this one had no beer bongs, but it had a lot of laughter and hugs and was an all round good time.

26th September - Nepal, Bhutan and Tibet

2009-07-05T09:23:00.002+01:00

So 26th September i leave for Nepal, then Bhutan and Tibet. I have now paid 1/2 of the trip. 3 months to go.

How exciting!!

I'll turn 29 in the Potala Palace, Lhasa, Tibet. Entering my 30th year in one the of the highest places on Earth. Yes!

Festival number 6: Metal Town festival Sweden!

2009-06-30T09:48:00.006+01:00

Metal Town Sweden!

Only 2 nights in my own bed, and off again. Straight after Hellfest to Sweden to work with Municipal Waste. Ahhh Sweden! For 2 nights!

Municipal Waste are gearing up for the release of their new album MASSIVE AGGRESSIVE out Aug 24th 09 and with this in mind i have many trips and plans to sort the press.

Close up magazine was doing a shoot and interview at Metal Town Sweden, and i wanted to be there to ensure it happened and then to bring Tony Foresta and Ryan Waste back to London.

I really like Sweden, Scandinavia always makes me feel at home. The landscape and the people make me happy, and i have fond memories of Augustibuller in Sweden a couple of years ago with the Waste.
This was my first time in Gothenburg.

I came on the Thursday evening and met up with my friend Lisa who used to present on Totalrock in London and moved to Gothenburg. We had a great evening in Gothenburg catching up and relaxing and even hitching a ride! (that was the first time i've ever hitched, but apparently Sweden is very safe...)

The next day - Friday, Municipal Waste arrived around 1.30pm from Denmark. I got in the Van driven by the lovely Mira and went to the festival site. It was a very hot day - strangely hot for Sweden, and some of the time was spent trying to stay out of the sun.

There was something in the air, and we all knew it was going to be a funny night.

I updated the whole thing to the Earache Tumblr / Twitter www.earache.tumblr.com

The show was fantastic as always. Huge pit, and they all played in sunglasses. Respect.

I filmed, took photos and tumblr-d at the same time. Skill.

After the show we had to clear out the dressing room - here's Moe carrying the beer.
And the crisps.

After the show - the photoshoot and interview for Close up magazine.

And the start of the drinking. I knew Metal Town would be crazy. My bag of Vodka, Whisky and beer says i was right.

Phil and i getting CRAZY with glasses and Lisa and Ryan doing an Egyptian dance.

It was Lisa's birthday so we all sung a great ragga/stoner/rap rendition of Happy birthday.

And then i licked Lisa's lemon.

Here's Moe, Lisa and I.

All i can say about the rest of the night is that i fell in love with Summer in Gothenburg.

And i am great at getting out of vans in time to puke.

Oh, and i missed Tony running on stage during Disturbed's set but it was one of my favourite stories of the night.

I did try and speak Swedish, and Finnish.

And i believe i spoke a lot of drunk!

It was hard work to make it to the airport early the next morning with Tony and Ryan - but can't complain, totally self inflicted and totally awesome.

Festival number 6 done!