This was the only day where I had a lie in, didn't get up till about half three. Considered going to the beach for the parties but instead settled in an Irish bar in order to watch the 20/20 World Cup Final. There were many in there who would normally not enter a den of iniquity. Pakistan won and probably rightly so - match was closer than it needed to be.
Initially not intending to drink, blonde barmaid kept plying me, this in turn led to a night of a great deal of booze in the hostel. With Simon and Julian? from South Africa, 'stalian lovely, some English from Hamburg (including irritating freshed faced, intelligent and rather lovely girl from Grantham - ooh if only I'd have been ten years younger she could have knocked me back), Blanca and Yvette (how was very german on her beer run). What started as a couple of drinks ended in me not going to bed till five in the morning playing silly card games with Americans.
My brother got hideously hideously drunk he must have asked the same girl fourteen times where she was from and was wrestling other peoples drinks off them...hmmm...that's a no no - I pretended he wasn't there.
Sunday, June 21, 2009
Saturday, June 20, 2009
Sonar 2009 - Day Five - Saturday
Once again my brother had to return to his bed because he can't handle the pace, we did look around the funny instruments section of Sonar some of them were pretty cool to play with, the REACTable is pretty cool.
The music at this years Sonar for me personally was pretty average, I really don't think that I saw a stand out act or anyone that make music that I'd not heard before despite the Advanced Music part of the festivals title. I think the fact that I spent two hours lounging around in the pro area charging my phone lays testament to this. The only act I can remember watching on the Saturday afternoon was a scottish guy make extremely loud Mogwai style soundscapes in the Church hall part of the festival.
The evening was pretty cool, we met some nice people on the roof, a fit (in both senses of the word) young lady from 'stralia, two kiwis, Blanca from Macedonia and Yvette from Germany. We drank fair few beers before heading out to the night part of the festival. Again it seem to go in a flash and the same as the day part I really can't remember watching anything. I was quite chilled out though and was sitting down listening to whatever was playing but every spanish person that walked past me decided that I needed to stand up, maybe I looked ill or something. There was a bizarre incident with two people sitting atop a white horse with ghost style sheets on their heads. Hmmm.
Orbital played...Edward reckoned they were too tinny. I saw bits of Moderat and Jeff Mills and probably everything else but was a bit indifferent to it all. I wasted a lot of money on the Dodgems.
Then the festival was over.
Not as fun as other years I don't think, too much weeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee duh duh duh duh weeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeh....and not enough floaty house music for my liking. Can't say I had a bad time though but four years in a row probably too much. Next year somewhere else I think.
The music at this years Sonar for me personally was pretty average, I really don't think that I saw a stand out act or anyone that make music that I'd not heard before despite the Advanced Music part of the festivals title. I think the fact that I spent two hours lounging around in the pro area charging my phone lays testament to this. The only act I can remember watching on the Saturday afternoon was a scottish guy make extremely loud Mogwai style soundscapes in the Church hall part of the festival.
The evening was pretty cool, we met some nice people on the roof, a fit (in both senses of the word) young lady from 'stralia, two kiwis, Blanca from Macedonia and Yvette from Germany. We drank fair few beers before heading out to the night part of the festival. Again it seem to go in a flash and the same as the day part I really can't remember watching anything. I was quite chilled out though and was sitting down listening to whatever was playing but every spanish person that walked past me decided that I needed to stand up, maybe I looked ill or something. There was a bizarre incident with two people sitting atop a white horse with ghost style sheets on their heads. Hmmm.
Orbital played...Edward reckoned they were too tinny. I saw bits of Moderat and Jeff Mills and probably everything else but was a bit indifferent to it all. I wasted a lot of money on the Dodgems.
Then the festival was over.
Not as fun as other years I don't think, too much weeeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeeeeeee duh duh duh duh weeeeeeeeeee eeeeeeeeeeeeh....and not enough floaty house music for my liking. Can't say I had a bad time though but four years in a row probably too much. Next year somewhere else I think.
Friday, June 19, 2009
Sonar 2009 - Friday
So this morning I had the unenviable task of dragging my blind sibling across Barcelona to find an opticians that would replace his glasses on the same day. The girl on the hostel desk couldn't help us so I caught the Metro to the Eixample and luckily we discovered one with not too much of a problem. My brother went into the screening room while I chatted to the girl on the desk who was also going to Sonar that evening.
The screening went like this:
Sharp intake of breath.
You shouldn't go anywhere without a spare pair of glasses.
We can't your prescription made the same day.
You'll have to have a weaker pair.
That'll be three hundred euros purleees.
Come back at seven this evening.
So I handed over the cash we left.
My brother told me that he wanted to go back to the room. Apparently you can't listen to music if you can't see. So back we went. And after a bite to eat figured I should go and see some music.
On the main stage was Mark Jones dressed in a huge pink afro wig, he played mostly crowd pleasers and party tunes much to the enjoyment of the crowd prancing around. After a bit of this and that and a lot of wandering and a few beers I caught Dorian Concept in the tent who was really rather good, bleep core! I got chatting to a group from London and discussed how gorgeous Barcelona's dustbin ladies where, dirty I guess, he. I think most of my afternoon was spent in a lying down position watching girls wiggle their pert behinds, I can think of worse ways to waste time.
I figured it was probably time to go grab Edward and go and get his glasses and had no interest in seeing La Roux whatsoever. The service was pretty good and both opticians rather tasty too and I was pretty relieved when the spectacles were ready to collect when we arrived. Hopefully we can claim them on the travel insurance...
We went back to Sonar in time to not see a great deal, I had wanted to see Bass Clef but just missed him, we danced around one of the stages to some Spanish DJ who was 100% house. Overall the music that day had been a little indifferent. Time for beers and food and babyfoot.
The night flashed by, I remember walking in and seeing Grace Jones a-wailing, then walking over to see Little Boots, then dancing Mary Anne Hobbs and briefly disco dancing to James Murphy. But then I don't remember anything for about three hours other than getting really really really tired. Then at about five in the morning getting a second wind after talking to some chaps from Scotland. I vaguely recall dancing a little to Richie Hawtin before he finished and hmmmm racing around in a bumper car while Erol Alkan was doing his thing. Then it started raining, I remember my brother wanted to see Don Rimini but he was rubbish.
Then it was home time and amazingly we had no difficulty getting a bus home despite scuffles in other queues.
The screening went like this:
Sharp intake of breath.
You shouldn't go anywhere without a spare pair of glasses.
We can't your prescription made the same day.
You'll have to have a weaker pair.
That'll be three hundred euros purleees.
Come back at seven this evening.
So I handed over the cash we left.
My brother told me that he wanted to go back to the room. Apparently you can't listen to music if you can't see. So back we went. And after a bite to eat figured I should go and see some music.
On the main stage was Mark Jones dressed in a huge pink afro wig, he played mostly crowd pleasers and party tunes much to the enjoyment of the crowd prancing around. After a bit of this and that and a lot of wandering and a few beers I caught Dorian Concept in the tent who was really rather good, bleep core! I got chatting to a group from London and discussed how gorgeous Barcelona's dustbin ladies where, dirty I guess, he. I think most of my afternoon was spent in a lying down position watching girls wiggle their pert behinds, I can think of worse ways to waste time.
I figured it was probably time to go grab Edward and go and get his glasses and had no interest in seeing La Roux whatsoever. The service was pretty good and both opticians rather tasty too and I was pretty relieved when the spectacles were ready to collect when we arrived. Hopefully we can claim them on the travel insurance...
We went back to Sonar in time to not see a great deal, I had wanted to see Bass Clef but just missed him, we danced around one of the stages to some Spanish DJ who was 100% house. Overall the music that day had been a little indifferent. Time for beers and food and babyfoot.
The night flashed by, I remember walking in and seeing Grace Jones a-wailing, then walking over to see Little Boots, then dancing Mary Anne Hobbs and briefly disco dancing to James Murphy. But then I don't remember anything for about three hours other than getting really really really tired. Then at about five in the morning getting a second wind after talking to some chaps from Scotland. I vaguely recall dancing a little to Richie Hawtin before he finished and hmmmm racing around in a bumper car while Erol Alkan was doing his thing. Then it started raining, I remember my brother wanted to see Don Rimini but he was rubbish.
Then it was home time and amazingly we had no difficulty getting a bus home despite scuffles in other queues.
Thursday, June 18, 2009
Sonar 2009 - Day 3 - Geniunely Ill
Started off the morning at a leisurely pace by catching the funicular up Montjuic walking down through some of the gardens, up to the Olympic Stadium and back down towards the MNAC and Mies Van de Rohe Pavillo before back to the hostel for some brunch.
All well and good. So we head off to Sonar and my brother lasts one song of the first act we see. Great. "I feel sick" says he.
"well you shouldn't really have stayed out til five in the morning on the piss when you knew you had things to do next morning". "I'm not hungover, I felt like this yesterday" he whines. "Yeah well you were quite pissed the night before as well" I think but don't say aloud. "I'm hot, I need to go to sleep".
So we walk back to the hostel, I follow him just in case he is "genuinely" ill and he goes to bed. Time to start again. I get back to the festival site just in time for Jeff Mills' jumpity bumpity old skool hip hop set, I can't remember the last time I heard Doug E Fresh, a most entertaining set but after an hour of bouncing around I was in need of some liquid refreshment and I took myself off to the VIP area to cool down.
I got chatting to guy called Darko who put parties both illegal and legal on around london, he told me that people didn't want to go clubbing anymore and parties needed that extra something about them, parties on roof tops, caves, churches were always full but clubs nah you couldn't rely on them. Told me that everyone in the game was out to fuck you over and I was lucky to have be working with a brother, he wished that his wasn't so straight.
I made my excuses and headed off to watch some more stuff, I caught d'J'w who seemed a pretty decent DJ, then over to see Luomo and Jake Shears.
It was time I thought to call my brother a) to make sure that his "geniune" illness wasn't geniune and b) to wake him up. He arrived about thirty minutes later with a bottle of cava - so much for being ill.
We waited for Konono No.1 where we bumped into Mauricio who we had met the previous summer in Rome, small world. Konono No.1 were hot and bouncy and sticky and cool and very African. My brother sloped off. We then jumped from stage to stage watching bits and bobs of everything and nothing. After an hour of this I decided I was pretty hungry and it was time to head back to the hostel where the evening reverted to that of the previous type.
Somehow we again found ourselves in the same bar as before and again we discovered Magnus and again this time he was very drunk and again he insulted me however this time I did not ignore him and pointed out that only a moron would walk around in Barcelona's Raval barrio in his state, without company, passport and money hanging out, turning into dark streets with groups of men lurking in alleyways. I then used the greek terms that he had been using with me. This he did not like and stormed out of the bar.
He returned ten minutes later to tell me that he did not like being insulted and told that he was a fool. And he liked even less that I turned my back on him in order to talk someone else. After no response from me he then went up to my brother and told him what a dangerous man he was. The man was a fool.
After the bar shut there was a decision to go to a club, but after much waiting around and some kind of an argument between two girls from the USA and some blokes from Warrington I figured that I didn't particularly like company and decided to use the free tickets I had been given for the Nitsa opening party, bad move.
We walked in. The music was good. We had a drink. And then my brothers glasses flew across the room after an accidental knock. I enlisted the help of some spanish people but no one could find them. My brother can't see. We head home. Game over.
All well and good. So we head off to Sonar and my brother lasts one song of the first act we see. Great. "I feel sick" says he.
"well you shouldn't really have stayed out til five in the morning on the piss when you knew you had things to do next morning". "I'm not hungover, I felt like this yesterday" he whines. "Yeah well you were quite pissed the night before as well" I think but don't say aloud. "I'm hot, I need to go to sleep".
So we walk back to the hostel, I follow him just in case he is "genuinely" ill and he goes to bed. Time to start again. I get back to the festival site just in time for Jeff Mills' jumpity bumpity old skool hip hop set, I can't remember the last time I heard Doug E Fresh, a most entertaining set but after an hour of bouncing around I was in need of some liquid refreshment and I took myself off to the VIP area to cool down.
I got chatting to guy called Darko who put parties both illegal and legal on around london, he told me that people didn't want to go clubbing anymore and parties needed that extra something about them, parties on roof tops, caves, churches were always full but clubs nah you couldn't rely on them. Told me that everyone in the game was out to fuck you over and I was lucky to have be working with a brother, he wished that his wasn't so straight.
I made my excuses and headed off to watch some more stuff, I caught d'J'w who seemed a pretty decent DJ, then over to see Luomo and Jake Shears.
It was time I thought to call my brother a) to make sure that his "geniune" illness wasn't geniune and b) to wake him up. He arrived about thirty minutes later with a bottle of cava - so much for being ill.
We waited for Konono No.1 where we bumped into Mauricio who we had met the previous summer in Rome, small world. Konono No.1 were hot and bouncy and sticky and cool and very African. My brother sloped off. We then jumped from stage to stage watching bits and bobs of everything and nothing. After an hour of this I decided I was pretty hungry and it was time to head back to the hostel where the evening reverted to that of the previous type.
Somehow we again found ourselves in the same bar as before and again we discovered Magnus and again this time he was very drunk and again he insulted me however this time I did not ignore him and pointed out that only a moron would walk around in Barcelona's Raval barrio in his state, without company, passport and money hanging out, turning into dark streets with groups of men lurking in alleyways. I then used the greek terms that he had been using with me. This he did not like and stormed out of the bar.
He returned ten minutes later to tell me that he did not like being insulted and told that he was a fool. And he liked even less that I turned my back on him in order to talk someone else. After no response from me he then went up to my brother and told him what a dangerous man he was. The man was a fool.
After the bar shut there was a decision to go to a club, but after much waiting around and some kind of an argument between two girls from the USA and some blokes from Warrington I figured that I didn't particularly like company and decided to use the free tickets I had been given for the Nitsa opening party, bad move.
We walked in. The music was good. We had a drink. And then my brothers glasses flew across the room after an accidental knock. I enlisted the help of some spanish people but no one could find them. My brother can't see. We head home. Game over.
Wednesday, June 17, 2009
Sonar 2009 - Day Two - And a Fairly Lazy One Too.
I woke up with that taste that only comes with stale Estrella lager, I feel that there is nothing so bad as it, this was mixed with the lovely feeling you get when you requre around a barrel of water to quench your thirst. I wouldn't have minded having this feeling had I drunk an exceptionally large quantity of beer the night before but I hadn't and had mostly stuck to Spanish quarter litre glasses.
After a fairly lazy morning around the hostel I dragged my brother to Park Guell to ensure that he had at least seen one cultural sight and we followed this with more laziness by spending the afternoon on the beach. The evening following a similar pattern to the previous one. Food, roof terrace and bar hopping.
We again finished in the same bar as the previous night (it was on the route back to the hostel). I discussed Sonar with a pretty American barmaid who was visiting on the Saturday night and met a nice group Irish lads who had come for the Sonar fringe parties but not for the festival itself and supped on a few beers.
Again I wasn't up for the big drinking session as I knew what was about to come. My brother on the other hand decided that he was going to stay out and "Get more BOOZE!" as he put it. Leaving Magnus-in-training I trundled off to bed.
After a fairly lazy morning around the hostel I dragged my brother to Park Guell to ensure that he had at least seen one cultural sight and we followed this with more laziness by spending the afternoon on the beach. The evening following a similar pattern to the previous one. Food, roof terrace and bar hopping.
We again finished in the same bar as the previous night (it was on the route back to the hostel). I discussed Sonar with a pretty American barmaid who was visiting on the Saturday night and met a nice group Irish lads who had come for the Sonar fringe parties but not for the festival itself and supped on a few beers.
Again I wasn't up for the big drinking session as I knew what was about to come. My brother on the other hand decided that he was going to stay out and "Get more BOOZE!" as he put it. Leaving Magnus-in-training I trundled off to bed.
Tuesday, June 16, 2009
Sonar 2009 - Day One - Arrival
We arrived in spain to be greeted by a warm but cloudy day, I was wearing a jumper and a lost spanish girl assumed that I was a local I attempted to help her but my accent must be truly dreadful and she walked off looking more bemused than she did before.
The Aerobus machine didn't work,the driver didn't want to let us on with change and thrust his hand out and drove off so instead we caught a train and metro to our destination instead. On arrival the receptionist had locked himself out of the hostel and we had to hang around until a nice help young lady opened the door for us. Our room was reasonably OK and had nice secure lockers to bung everything in negating the need to carry around things that could be annoying if lost.
My brother immediately wanted to hit a bar, I probably should have let him and taught him that it doesn't pay to be a drunken englishman before in Barca before the Catalans had even finished work. I didn't need to however as this was graphically displayed some time later.
We meandered through the streets of the old town and walked down to the harbour which was looking pretty dirty unfortunately. We then stopped at a cafe and drank a caña before grabbing some food to prepare from the supermarket.
The hostel we stayed in had a nice but small roof terrace which overlooked the city and mountain, it would have been relaxing if not for the constant drone of the air conditioning fans surrounding us. Regardless it was still a pleasant place to have a beer and watch the sunset.
We were joined on the roof by a Dane called Magnus, he swayed, he slurred and he staggered about, he told us that he had been in the pub all afternoon drinking and had drunk at least 20 pints of lager. He was a little annoying but left us after discovering that we did not own a lighter for his cigarette.
Bar hopping was the course of the evening, I don't remember now where we visited, mostly haunts from previous trips to the city, I was in no mind for a raging beer session given that it was only Tuesday but my brother I fear would have gotten as drunken as Magnus with whom we met up with in our final ale house.
Magnus by this time could now not stand up and was slumped against a bar stool holding himself up by sheer will at the bar. He kept dropping his wallet, passport and money. Everytime I returned them to me he would call me me something derogatory in one of the various languages that he spoke, mostly in Greek I am told. He thanked me for buying him a drink even though I had handed him his glass of water. I tried to tell him to go home but all he kept saying was that he wanted some whizz up his nose.
After half an hour of this the barman decided it was time he left. We found out the following day that he had walked around the corner and was robbed, then again on the following corner and once more as he circled back towards the hostel, losing his money, driving licence, mobile phone, credit cards and passport. I think Magnus is a fine example of why an Englishman (or a Dane or anyone else) should not start drinking in Barcelona until way after the locals have left the office.
The Aerobus machine didn't work,the driver didn't want to let us on with change and thrust his hand out and drove off so instead we caught a train and metro to our destination instead. On arrival the receptionist had locked himself out of the hostel and we had to hang around until a nice help young lady opened the door for us. Our room was reasonably OK and had nice secure lockers to bung everything in negating the need to carry around things that could be annoying if lost.
My brother immediately wanted to hit a bar, I probably should have let him and taught him that it doesn't pay to be a drunken englishman before in Barca before the Catalans had even finished work. I didn't need to however as this was graphically displayed some time later.
We meandered through the streets of the old town and walked down to the harbour which was looking pretty dirty unfortunately. We then stopped at a cafe and drank a caña before grabbing some food to prepare from the supermarket.
The hostel we stayed in had a nice but small roof terrace which overlooked the city and mountain, it would have been relaxing if not for the constant drone of the air conditioning fans surrounding us. Regardless it was still a pleasant place to have a beer and watch the sunset.
We were joined on the roof by a Dane called Magnus, he swayed, he slurred and he staggered about, he told us that he had been in the pub all afternoon drinking and had drunk at least 20 pints of lager. He was a little annoying but left us after discovering that we did not own a lighter for his cigarette.
Bar hopping was the course of the evening, I don't remember now where we visited, mostly haunts from previous trips to the city, I was in no mind for a raging beer session given that it was only Tuesday but my brother I fear would have gotten as drunken as Magnus with whom we met up with in our final ale house.
Magnus by this time could now not stand up and was slumped against a bar stool holding himself up by sheer will at the bar. He kept dropping his wallet, passport and money. Everytime I returned them to me he would call me me something derogatory in one of the various languages that he spoke, mostly in Greek I am told. He thanked me for buying him a drink even though I had handed him his glass of water. I tried to tell him to go home but all he kept saying was that he wanted some whizz up his nose.
After half an hour of this the barman decided it was time he left. We found out the following day that he had walked around the corner and was robbed, then again on the following corner and once more as he circled back towards the hostel, losing his money, driving licence, mobile phone, credit cards and passport. I think Magnus is a fine example of why an Englishman (or a Dane or anyone else) should not start drinking in Barcelona until way after the locals have left the office.
Thursday, June 11, 2009
I have never experienced time like this.
I think that this might quite possibly be the slowest week that I've ever had at work and its not yet finished...I've knocked off early four out of four days so far but that's not made the slightest bit of difference, every minute feels like ten. I really want it to be finished.
Staying in tonight, need a decent kip, Monday night I started playing Fallout 3 on my xbox, the next minute it was about 2.45 in the morning, it took me at least another two hours to get to sleep. Tuesday was comedy night at the British Oak and while I don't feel that I had particularly overindulged I felt thoroughly rubbish come Wednesday morning. Last night I met Paul, Phil and Dave in the Country Girl and even though I definately didn't over indulge when I got home I sat listening to Spiritualized and became quite morose and couldn't drag myself up to bed. Needless to say I am feeling a little bit knackered.
Anyway sat at this desk bored out of my tiny mind really isn't helping the situation. I might bog off early again but cackling witches are here..
Happy Happy Joy Joy.
The soundtrack to my day has been Badmarsh and Shri, Bonobo, Badly Drawn Boy, Underworld, Matthew Dear (as Audion) and Boys Noize
Staying in tonight, need a decent kip, Monday night I started playing Fallout 3 on my xbox, the next minute it was about 2.45 in the morning, it took me at least another two hours to get to sleep. Tuesday was comedy night at the British Oak and while I don't feel that I had particularly overindulged I felt thoroughly rubbish come Wednesday morning. Last night I met Paul, Phil and Dave in the Country Girl and even though I definately didn't over indulge when I got home I sat listening to Spiritualized and became quite morose and couldn't drag myself up to bed. Needless to say I am feeling a little bit knackered.
Anyway sat at this desk bored out of my tiny mind really isn't helping the situation. I might bog off early again but cackling witches are here..
Happy Happy Joy Joy.
The soundtrack to my day has been Badmarsh and Shri, Bonobo, Badly Drawn Boy, Underworld, Matthew Dear (as Audion) and Boys Noize
Wednesday, June 10, 2009
Devon
Last week was spent mostly on the beach in the many places of Torbay in what according to the taxi driver on the way to the train station was the best weather they'd had in that area for three years. It was mostly gorgeous and I didn't do a great deal.
It took just over a day at work to feel like I'd never had a break...great eh?
Not that that's too much of problem I've only got three and a half (possibly two and half if I take Monday off) before I head off to Sonar for the fourth time.
It took just over a day at work to feel like I'd never had a break...great eh?
Not that that's too much of problem I've only got three and a half (possibly two and half if I take Monday off) before I head off to Sonar for the fourth time.
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