| Tour Diary |
Eastbound and Down
We left Cardiff at about midday on Monday, having had a great weekend. We
were both sorry to leave and the mood on the journey reflected that. I was due
to play in Milton Keynes on Wednesday, having been booked for about 6
weeks. I messaged the promoter just before I left home, just to double-check
everything was still ok, but didn’t hear back from him. Milton Keynes was too far
out of my way to travel to without having the guarantee of a gig, so I cancelled
it. I have never heard back from the promoter, no apology for not messaging
me, nothing. That’s another one off the list, along with the Green Room.
So, the idea now was that we would take a slow drive across Devon and Dorset
and into Hampshire over the next couple of days, ending up with relatives in
Sussex on Thursday. We spent the night just outside Weymouth and it was
bloody freezing and neither of us slept well. I wanted to visit the lost village of
Tyneham, having been there when I was young (before it turned
into a museum) and on the way thought it would be nice to visit Durdle Door and
Lulworth Cove. What a disappointment they both were. I don’t mean the natural
wonders, they were beautiful, of course. Consider that this was a cold day in
mid-November with no-one around, yet still Lulworth Estate demands
you pay £3 to park for an hour to look at each place. Bloody hell, all I wanted to
do was a 5 minute peek at both, it was too cold to be standing around. The car
park at Durdle Door is through a caravan park and felt like you were on private
property. It would have been a great place to park for the night but they would
have probably been out with pitchforks to run us out of town (or burn us at the
stake). All over the signs at Durdle Door were prohibitions including one in
particular that caught my attention. Apparently, if you want to photograph Durdle
Door (a rock formation, not an actual door) and use the pictures for publication,
you need to seek permission from the Lulworth Estate first.
Excuse me? If I take a photo of ANYTHING, I own the copyright and do not
need permission to publish it where I please, whether for profit or not. On top of
that, define ‘publish’? Publishing on Facebook? Does that count?? I
understand that if you want to film at the location then yes, some form of
permission would need to be sought. But a photo?? This left us with a bad
feeling as we headed past the red flags and machine gun sounds of Lulworth
notifying us that we could be shot or bombed at any moment. Add to this that
the only road to Tyneham was closed due to military exercises meaning we
couldn’t look round there (a ‘public’ place), we were both starting to get a bit
pissed off. In the end, we decided another night in a freezing cold van could
really turn bad so decided to head for my mum’s in Sussex a couple of days
early.
Pompey
After a few days of catching up with various relatives and old mates (including
a look round the Goldmark Craft Beer Brewery near Arundel, check out their
excellent range of ales) it was time to head down to Portsmouth for my
penultimate gig at the Barn at the Milton Arms. To be honest, I was looking
forward to getting back on the road but it had been too long since my previous
gig and didn’t really feel like I was on tour anymore so was not really in the right
frame of mind to play. It happens sometimes. We arrived at the venue and I
helped the other bands load in. Everyone seemed to know each other and all
kept to themselves and I felt a bit out of place and wondered if I could actually
be bothered with the night. Jon, the promoter, introduced himself and we had a
chat and I felt a bit more at ease. A couple of the other bands had a
soundcheck and I got a quick line check, just to make sure the guitar sounded
good. Jon then said that I would be on third after two local bands and before
the two touring bands. This was good of him as he said that I’d travelled a long
way to be there and it would be good for me to get a crowd. My mood slowly
started to lift and I was itching to get onstage. During the second band’s set, I
got a tap on the shoulder and turned round to see an old friend, Robin, who I
hadn’t seen for years (we reckon at least 17). His dad and my dad did National
Service together and remained in contact afterwards. They also played in the
Chichester City band together (as did Robin and myself) and we would
occasionally visit each others’ houses. It was great to see him and catch up and
I was grateful he came down (despite the music of the night probably not being
to his taste!)
We left Cardiff at about midday on Monday, having had a great weekend. We
were both sorry to leave and the mood on the journey reflected that. I was due
to play in Milton Keynes on Wednesday, having been booked for about 6
weeks. I messaged the promoter just before I left home, just to double-check
everything was still ok, but didn’t hear back from him. Milton Keynes was too far
out of my way to travel to without having the guarantee of a gig, so I cancelled
it. I have never heard back from the promoter, no apology for not messaging
me, nothing. That’s another one off the list, along with the Green Room.
So, the idea now was that we would take a slow drive across Devon and Dorset
and into Hampshire over the next couple of days, ending up with relatives in
Sussex on Thursday. We spent the night just outside Weymouth and it was
bloody freezing and neither of us slept well. I wanted to visit the lost village of
Tyneham, having been there when I was young (before it turned
into a museum) and on the way thought it would be nice to visit Durdle Door and
Lulworth Cove. What a disappointment they both were. I don’t mean the natural
wonders, they were beautiful, of course. Consider that this was a cold day in
mid-November with no-one around, yet still Lulworth Estate demands
you pay £3 to park for an hour to look at each place. Bloody hell, all I wanted to
do was a 5 minute peek at both, it was too cold to be standing around. The car
park at Durdle Door is through a caravan park and felt like you were on private
property. It would have been a great place to park for the night but they would
have probably been out with pitchforks to run us out of town (or burn us at the
stake). All over the signs at Durdle Door were prohibitions including one in
particular that caught my attention. Apparently, if you want to photograph Durdle
Door (a rock formation, not an actual door) and use the pictures for publication,
you need to seek permission from the Lulworth Estate first.
Excuse me? If I take a photo of ANYTHING, I own the copyright and do not
need permission to publish it where I please, whether for profit or not. On top of
that, define ‘publish’? Publishing on Facebook? Does that count?? I
understand that if you want to film at the location then yes, some form of
permission would need to be sought. But a photo?? This left us with a bad
feeling as we headed past the red flags and machine gun sounds of Lulworth
notifying us that we could be shot or bombed at any moment. Add to this that
the only road to Tyneham was closed due to military exercises meaning we
couldn’t look round there (a ‘public’ place), we were both starting to get a bit
pissed off. In the end, we decided another night in a freezing cold van could
really turn bad so decided to head for my mum’s in Sussex a couple of days
early.
Pompey
After a few days of catching up with various relatives and old mates (including
a look round the Goldmark Craft Beer Brewery near Arundel, check out their
excellent range of ales) it was time to head down to Portsmouth for my
penultimate gig at the Barn at the Milton Arms. To be honest, I was looking
forward to getting back on the road but it had been too long since my previous
gig and didn’t really feel like I was on tour anymore so was not really in the right
frame of mind to play. It happens sometimes. We arrived at the venue and I
helped the other bands load in. Everyone seemed to know each other and all
kept to themselves and I felt a bit out of place and wondered if I could actually
be bothered with the night. Jon, the promoter, introduced himself and we had a
chat and I felt a bit more at ease. A couple of the other bands had a
soundcheck and I got a quick line check, just to make sure the guitar sounded
good. Jon then said that I would be on third after two local bands and before
the two touring bands. This was good of him as he said that I’d travelled a long
way to be there and it would be good for me to get a crowd. My mood slowly
started to lift and I was itching to get onstage. During the second band’s set, I
got a tap on the shoulder and turned round to see an old friend, Robin, who I
hadn’t seen for years (we reckon at least 17). His dad and my dad did National
Service together and remained in contact afterwards. They also played in the
Chichester City band together (as did Robin and myself) and we would
occasionally visit each others’ houses. It was great to see him and catch up and
I was grateful he came down (despite the music of the night probably not being
to his taste!)
Once on stage, it felt great. I had a
decent size crowd in to listen (and they
did actually listen as usually the more
people that are in, the louder the
talking) and I really enjoyed playing and
ranting. Once my set was done, a
number of people came up and said
they had enjoyed it, one lady asking if I
had anything for sale. I directed her
over to Rags and they started speaking
and, by the time I was off stage, she’d
disappeared! It was like Plymouth all
over again. Thankfully, she did return
and bought 2 of my CDs, I also sold a
few more too.
I loved my first gig in Portsmouth and
can’t wait to return.
| Copyright Mark Ayling 2018 |
The gig was reviewed by Louder Than War, read it HERE