Tuesday, May 7 - Glasgow, Scotland
We had a big day of travel on our day off, with the rail journey to Scotland looming before us, and the sins of the night before riding on our shoulders (will there EVER be any time to sleep?) I was still chuckling over a small moment at the Eastgate Hotel in Oxford. Such nice people there, and so willing to please, but...the gap between our cultures is wide, and it looks like it is filled with ICE! SueC and I usually eschew dinner before a concert, generally having a small bite to get us through the evening (hard to jump up and down on a full stomach), and if I drink, I might doze off during ILS, so we tend to eat AFTER the concert. Hundreds of Waffle House employees across America can attest to this! We had a few things with us – chips, fruit, etc, but I wanted a cold Diet Coke and only a warm can was staring me in the face. Ice machines don’t seem to exist in England, and I’m pretty flexible, but gosh! I wanted a COLD Diet Coke so much that I called the front desk (no room service) and asked if there might be some ice in the sweetest and most endearing tones that I could muster. He kindly said that he would see what he could do, and someone soon knocked on our door. I opened it, and was greeted by a smiling and happy man holding out a (you guessed it) TINY cup of ice. I think there were four cubes in it. LOL I thanked him profusely, tipped him generously and offered to share my four cubes with SueC. She’s quite used to warm Diet Coke because of her devotion to the USPS, and so generously passed. I gloated over my crystal treasure, and held the glass closely to me, and enjoyed a perfect moment of Coca-Cola pleasure! The Oxford train station is one of the nicest and certainly the most modern that we have been to (and we’re racking them up). There was no line at the Starbucks inside and we took our coffee and chocolate croissants onto the platform to wait in the cool mist. There wasn’t a direct train to Edinburgh; we had to take a train to London Paddington (which I expected to be decorated with bears) and then taxied to the King’s Cross station. KC is not a nice area and I don’t need to go there again, though nothing has come up to the Paris Nord squalor. My discomfiture ended the moment we boarded  The
Flying Scotsman. They didn’t ask if we wanted champagne (leave that
to the French, God Bless Them!), but in every other way it was very close
to the Eurostar experience. Jill (my Parrothead travel agent) had
booked us into first class, and it was first class. The car was almost
empty, it was spacious, comfortable and the decor was very pleasant.
I wanted to nab one of the head covers, but the potential guilt was too
great and it didn’t have a thistle design so I passed. To our amazement,
it was one of the two cars on the train in which one could SMOKE!
WOO-HOO! We high-fived and prepared to light up in celebration when
we were crushed to find that there were no ashtrays, and the car was so
nice that we wouldn’t have considered flicking ashes on the carpet (we
are not desperate scum. Scum, perhaps, but not desperate scum!)
One of two nice ladies in charge of us came by and we pointed out that
we heard this was a smoking CAR, but where were the ashtrays? She
checked the arms of the seat and not finding what she was looking for,
said she would find us something. She did – she brought us a saucer!
LOL We soon ordered food: Sue, a breakfast baguette, me, a chicken
and crayfish tails sandwich with fruit. And coffee. Lots and
LOTS of coffee. We learned to be careful to place all china on the
rubber mat, and were happy we didn’t learn the hard way. What a wonderful
trip! The scenery was lovely, and included views along the coast
of the North Sea. We propped our feet on the chairs across from us,
and didn’t move except to raise our coffee cups to be filled. After
all, the poor ladies needed something to do, and we were the only ones
they had to take care of!
Life is good! LOL I could have stayed on The Flying Scotsman all day, but the four hour trip passed quickly and ended much too soon with our arrival at Edinburgh Waverley station. We reveled in the thick Scottish accent of our taxi driver and cajoled him into taking us on a quick tour around the city. It was a pretext to keep him TALKING as long as possible. I’m sorry to say that we both shamelessly chat people up everywhere we go, not caring WHAT they say, as long as they will keep talking so that we can swim in their accented English. If anyone is reading this who we’ve pulled this gentle trick on, please feel complimented by it, and don’t feel that you have been singled out. We do it to people in regions of the USA too – New Orleans comes to mind and the embarrassed waiter at the Napolean Cafe who fled to the kitchen with a hard blush at our confession. Similarly, we don’t necessarily like to TALK to members of The Band; we like to LISTEN to members of The Band talk! We’re not following a British band for no reason! The nice man at the ticket booth in Oxford station told me that Edinburgh is a city of stone, and that it is. Our hotel, The Balmoral (built in 1902) is an impressive edifice of hard gray limestone, as are most of the buildings in the vicinity. The city seems like an ancient fortress to me, built to deny invaders. The Balmoral has the same feeling as our favorite USA hotels – lovely, elegant and filled with the same aroma of lilies. It hits you the moment you enter the door held open for you by the elderly doorman in a kilt and lingers pleasantly in your nostrils as you waltz thru the lobby. : ) The fortress metaphor just hit me again! As I’m writing in my bed exactly three feet from the open window, a loud shot was just heard and Sue asked me if it was 13:00 (1pm – lol!) The guidebook says that since 1846 a single shot from a 25 lb gun set on a battery at Edinburgh Castle (which we can see from our window) is fired every day except Sunday at 1pm. The Scots remain ever ready for battle! Again, TEA crossed my mind, and we retired to the elegant Palm Court downstairs to judge their offering. Very nice! It was made unique by two lovely items: CHOCOLATE scones, and clotted cream chocolate fudge. The chocolate scones (regular scones were also served) were fabulous with more of a cocoa flavor and taste. They had the most lovely aroma imaginable! I chose not to sully them with strawberry jam, but broke mine open and simply dotted some clotted cream (a butter-type potted item) on the warm brown interior. What a delight! We walked around a bit, and browsed thru the nearby bookstores. I wanted to buy a few books in Edinburgh by Ian Rankin, the favorite son whose detective novels have been serialized on PBS. I didn’t have the chance to buy some Inspector Morse novels in Oxford, unfortunately! We bought some postcards and returned, spent from our travels, to our exquisite hotel room to rest. We had decided to make Edinburgh our home in Scotland. 
Most dates of the tour are one night stands, where one rushes to a city,
throws the bags into a hotel room, races to the concert and then searches
for food and ice. This has been one of our two extended stays of
the tour. Although the Balmoral doesn’t quite conform to the
promise I faithfully made hubby (the promise of modest hotels with the
satisfaction of England/Scotland as the backdrop), I know he will understand
the need for R&R. There are two things that make the Balmoral
special for me! OK, three, if you include the chocolate scones.
The most magnificent shower I have ever experienced, and a heated towel
rack. This towel rack has proven to be a BOON to the traveling fans,
who have taken this opportunity to do a bit of personal laundry.
Sue took her turn at it Tuesday morning and as we left, I joked that part
of that towel rack got quite hot (I had burned my hand when I brushed it)
and that it would be an AWFUL thing if her undies caught fire while we
were at the concert. We laughed at the time, but as we were drinking
our Diet Cokes in the Palm Court after the concert, the doors snapped closed
and the fire alarm began squealing wildly. I was too tired to care
and Margarita Mellow, but our waiter came to our table and said “It’s a
fire alarm”? I confusedly said I didn’t know, and he said, no, it
IS a fire alarm. He wanted us to LEAVE! (This is not a drill)
We still had our coats, having flopped down in the bar on our return from
Glasgow, and obediently put them on and filed outside in a manner reminiscent
to our fire and tornado drills in second grade. We were treated to
the arrival of the fire brigade in full firefighting regalia, took pictures
and leaned against the stone wall until we were given the all-clear.
I remembered SueC’s drying undies on the towel rack, and we laughed ourselves
sick with the humor and the horror of it. We were spared the embarrassment,
not to mention the bill of burning down the Balmoral, which apparently
was NOT on fire. The firemen left, and we gave up the ghost, returning
to our room to continue the Moody afterglow.
Waverley station turned out to be UNDERNEATH our hotel – we had left by the taxi entrance on our arrival Monday and would have driven around the block to the front door had we not highjacked our driver. It was nothing to walk out of the hotel, then down a flight of steps into the station. The rail trip was uneventful, about an hour to Glasgow. Glasgow is a modern, major city, and though it has its charm and some historical looking buildings and monuments, it’s a city that could be set down almost anywhere in America. 
It doesn’t have a distinctive personality. Edinburgh was the right
choice! Our concert tickets were at will-call and I am always
anxious to get my tickets in my hot little hand, and since the SECC website
had said food was available on site, we taxied off to Clyde Auditorium.
We tried in vain to get some information from our driver, a pleasant, though
skinhead looking pierced fellow, but alas! We couldn’t understand
a word he said! He was a an inoffensive guy, and TRIED to answer
our questions, and he seemed to understand us, but then I speak Perfectly
Unaccented Midwestern English and tho I have vast experience in other forms
of English, I couldn’t make it thru his brogue. We gave up and arrived
at the SECC.
The Venue The folks at the box office refer to Clyde Auditorium as “The Armadillo”. I laughed but agreed that the characterization is perfect! The venue is in a separate building (attached to the convention center by a forbidden walkway) and is torpedo shaped, with the top designed to look like overlapping plates. Like an armadillo! The box office was surrounded by a number of posters advertising their upcoming concerts which included: Rod Stewart, Enrique Iglesias, Barry Manilow, Neil Diamond, Kiley Minogue and World Wrestling All Stars! Several posters (one which the promotion office promised to send me – right!) advertised the Moodies. 
Clyde Auditorium seats 3000, and tho it wasn’t sold out, it sold well: all that was left were some balcony seats. It is a very modern facility. The large foyer had escalators to a bar upstairs that overlooked the foyer. The walls of the foyer were glass, and save for a few potted plants it was devoid of decoration. Other than a candy stand with the strangest candy I had ever seen (denture candies among other bizarre offerings) and the Moodies merchandise table, not much was there. There was quite a bit of security present in the foyer and I noticed guards watching the incoming patrons from their vantage point at the top of the escalator. A guard checked tickets and guided concert-goers to their entry. Guards were also kept busy informing groups of teenage girls that Westlife was performing over in the conference center proper. I can tell you THAT looked like a screaming crowd! Clyde Auditorium is a lovely facility, as pointed out by JL in his remarks to the crowd. It is easily comparable to facilities in Vegas. My ticket was torn at the door of the auditorium, and I was pleasantly surprised by the venue. As I entered the stalls (STILL haven’t figured out what THAT means!) I was struck by the stage. It was bathed in blue light and the drumkits were silhouetted against the pale blue fabric backdrops. Very pretty! A large balcony overhangs the stalls up to around row K, and small lights are set into the underside, reminding one of a night sky filled with small stars. The four foot high stage was wide, but not very deep. Speakers were hung from the proscenium at both sides of the stage, with additional smaller speakers hung around 6 feet lower. A 4x4 speaker box was onstage on both sides. The ceiling should fascinate Justin (for those who haven’t noticed, he spends a regular amount of time studying venue ceilings while onstage)! It was very high and seemed intended to carry over the modern/industrial theme. There were rows parallel to the stage of large oblong blocks across the ceiling, with HUGE nail-like objects hanging from them, four to a block. They looked like nails waiting to be hammered into a block of wood – a very post-revolution USSR effect. Few tickets were available for this venue! When we checked on upgrading at the box office, the second to the last row was all that was left on the floor. I couldn’t see the balcony, so I don’t know how full it was. The setlist was the same as the prior UK concerts, and included the performance of Forever Autumn prior to YWD to start the second half. It was performed with an intermission. The Fashion Report RT – Black on black, long slvd shirt, no change at half GE – Jimi Hendrix shirt, black slacks, car shirt second half JH – Waiter’s outfit, no change at half JL – White on white embroidered long slvd shirt, cuffs undone, leathers, boots, black long slvd shirt, cuffs undone second half The Battle of the Buttons Ain’t nothing happening here, girls! Sigh I hear the death knell for “Drugs, Sex and Rock ‘n Roll”. These days the drug is caffeine, sex is once a week with your wife and rock ‘n roll is a pitiful whimper, at least on stage in the UK. I might as well be watching freakin’ Barry Manilow. (Hey, I was being charitable here. I could have said Perry Como!) Maybe THAT’S what Justin means by “Sad and Sorry!” It’s an English Sunset. The Concert The concert was very good! The hall had a nice clear sound, balance was ok. We were able to get a better idea of the sound from the 5th row and plan to turn down any front row seats in the future. HAHAHAHA. Some notes...FML featured lovely, clear vocals by RT, and sparking accompaniment by Justin on the Olson. FML sounded like a little jewel at Clyde Auditorium. GE yelled “Go Ray! during Ray’s hornpipe. During ES, JH was bouncing his heel so hard that his whole body was moving with it. No teacup from RT in Glasgow. One of the highpoints of the concert was JL yelling “Scotland” instead of England. SueC asked me why JL doesn’t yell “America!” when they perform here! LOL. The Actor featured a LONG spoken intro by JH (reminding me that I previously said there could come a time when we CAN’T shut him up – lol) Chatty Justin responded to some yelled comment (which I didn’t hear) while he was changing his guitar box settings, saying that he had a lot of buttons to push and it was hard to do in the dark (very funny) RT responded with a wonderfully sarcastic “yeah, yeah, yeah”. I see JH repeatedly pressing the pedals on his box, and I have no idea what the hell he is doing or why! It looks complicated. I wish JH would write a couple of paragraphs on his website explaining what he is doing up there with it. Heck! I’m just glad when he remembers to turn the guitar ON! I am always loathe to mention Miss Bernie (shoeless or not) because of the witchhunt that ensues (where I am the witch), but imo her vocals on The Actor were too loud and overpowered Ray’s critical harmony. Let me hasten to say that I realize it is not HER fault, but the fault of the soundboard tech. Other than the musicians on stage for a performance, that job has the greatest impact on a concert, particularly for a group featuring delicate melodies and exquisite layered harmonies. The Moodies should hire the most outstanding and discerning tech in the business. Sometimes I’ve wondered if they’ve brought the bus driver in to work the soundboard. The one with the hearing aid! LOL Slide Zone saw Dan on stage working on JL’s Fender bass a bit during JH’s guitar solo. I made a point of noticing JH’s introduction to Forever Autumn in Glasgow: “Here’s a song you might remember”. It’s simple, but I like it. YWD got BIG applause from the Glasgowers. In GE’s intro to Nothing Changes, GE said “Don’t worry, I’m not going to sing!” and RT wiped his brow in mock relief. Very cute! The Glasgow audience was an extension of the British ones – they seemed to enjoy the concert, but also seemed like they had had a tiring day at work and just couldn’t get up. LOL!!! There were a number of people standing at various times and after songs, which I could see from my row F loser seats, and I was encouraged until SueC pointed out that the people standing were all American Fans! (and two “rowdy” Canadians that were nice people before they started hanging out with American lowlifes like myself) The crowd was different from the two I observed in England. I noticed a DEFINITE lack of applause at the announcement of English Sunset (I’m beginning to catch on regarding Scot views of their southern brothers). Those rowdy Vancouver Canadians in the second row (and you know who you are!) came armed with glowsticks and used them very effectively. They were the HIT of the concert hall! The locals craned their necks, pointed, and smiled at the sight, and seemed AMAZED! It was pretty obvious that they had never seen anything like it. I saw Justin give Jackie and Su (whoops! Did you want to stay anonymous? LOL!) a BIG smile and recognition for “their” performance. I’ll return what Jackie said to me before the concert: I HATE YOU! Saying it with love, of course! I did notice those glowsticks “quivering” during the guitar thrusts! All in all, it was a very good concert in a lovely facility, with enough unique moments to make it memorable. Thank God the Moodies finished up before the Westlife concert ended with its horde of young teenagers! It was raining when we got out of Clyde Auditorium, and taxis were having difficulty moving thru the crush. SueC and I were quite mindful of the fact that the last train left the station at 11:30, and SPRINTED out to the taxi stand to get a place in the queue (one must learn these terms to survive in the UK). The third taxi was ours and we got in just as the rain began to get heavy. We were able to make the 11pm train, and I fell asleep 5 minutes before we arrived in Edinburgh. (but it was restful sleep – lol) It took us a moment to figure out how to get out of the deserted station, with only the fellow on the Zamboni to keep us company, but a few minutes later we were sipping Diet Cokes in the Palm Court. I left out a Celebrity Sighting at Oxford – Uri Geller was seen in the audience and was pointed out to me as he left (apparently) backstage. Michael Jackson was not with him. LOL MaggieMay |