Well it was a taut occasion, starting well, rapidly descending into something appalling and then rising to a crescendo that raised the roof.

I am, of course, talking about Spurs' match with Aston Villa on Monday night where we came back from 4-1 down after 70 minutes and snatched a draw in the last minute. Here's goal hero Kaboul celebrating in a incredibly homoerotic way:

And even though it was only a draw, it felt like a win. Well, probably. I can't really remember what a league win feels like....

Last night I cooked Spicy Thai Prawn and Shiitake Mushroom soup, a Thai Green Chicken Curry and a veggie Potato and Tomato Dopiaza (from scratch - no pastes for moi) for 18 people. Not a single one has died either (yet, anyway). This is because I am astonishingly multi-talented. I amaze myself sometimes.... :-P

So Sunday and the Bristol gig. My contact in the band community (an american woman who lives in Bristol) texted me mid-afternoon to say that they were meeting the band for a drink after the sound check if I wanted to meet them. I got down to the pub opposite the venue about 6:30pm but was unable to find my contact (and couldn't get through on the phone). I did see several members of the band but never having met them before it was a bit strange to just introduce myself, so I waited for her in the pub. Luckily a few friends of mine were there so I chatted to them for about an hour until the guys and girls I was going to the gig with turned up before 8. Still having heard nothing from my contact we headed into the venue as the pub was playing death metal at ear-bleeding volume.

No sooner had we entered the venue (and were unable to leave) then, of course, I get a text saying they're in some random pub with the band. After asking around it turns out they were in a separate bar that was part of the pub I'd been in for over an hour but with no signal to tell me. Aaaaaaaaarrrrrgh!

The gig itself was amazing, much better than the Birmingham gig as the sound quality was superb and the crowd really got into it. A few pics....

After several more beers and a bit of a dance the gig was over and we all wanted to go to the aftershow party as we'd been invited. Eventually I met my contact outside (by dint of spotting the only american talking loudly into her phone) and met the rest of the really serious fans who go to most of the concerts. I do believe the phrase is 'an eclectic bunch'.

I got the address of the aftershow party and went back to inform my friends (after briefly meeting one of the guitarists who was a nice guy) of where it was. Two of the three women left immediately upon hearing where it was and it took the third to explain to the rest of us that it was a Hells Angels pub in the roughest part of Bristol (and believe me, 'rough' does not do Lawrence Hill justice).

So in the end they all decided that it wasn't worth it. I ummed and aahed, but really wanted to meet the band so decided to jump in a taxi with a bunch of people I'd never met before and head into an area taxi-drivers are reluctant to go to (though had I known that at the time I may have changed my mind).

The rock club where the aftershow was seemed fairly normal when we got there. If normal includes two huge guys wearing incredibly subtle 'Hells Angels' t-shirts standing as doormen. Luckily we're on the guest list otherwise I doubt we'd have got in. The club itself was full of bikers and some astonishingly fit women, though common sense told me that they weren't unattached.

The band still hadn't turned up so we made small talk over a few beers. At this point I realised I was with a bunch of people with whom the only thing I had in common with was the band we'd all just seen. It was a bit surreal. I drank more beers. The band turned up!

Only, they didn't. It appeared that since Monday was their only day off in the tour, 5 out of 9 of the band had gone straight back to London on the first bus (including Devlin Love :( ). I did get chatting to Larry Love and Rock Freebase (the former being so wasted he would've chatted to a wall and the latter friendly but very sober) several times, but Steve the Engineer (who plays the other guitar) was being rather guarded of the groupie he was attempting to get in to so was less chatty. They disappeared quite early too, so it obviously worked :)

I can honestly say that I only feared for my life about seven times, the first of which was when I was trying to find the toilets (it was a fairly largish club with lots of rooms) and stumbled around a corner into a dead-end corridor with three bikers having an 'earnest' conversation. I looked about as non-biker as I could and had gone for the clean shaven look that night which always makes me look more baby-faced than normal. The looks I got from them were, well, the opposite of friendly.

"What do you want?"

"Um, any idea where the toilets are?"

"Why, are you an undercover cop?"

At this point I should point out that I was drunk and for some reason the following sentence crept out of my mouth with my brain running along behind it frantically flapping its arms to stop it.

"No, I just look like one."

I thought I was going to die. :-/


At one point in the night Larry Love did go up on stage with a band playing a loud and not very tuneful set. I took a photo, caught the disproving looks from some of the clientele and kept my phone in my pocket for the rest of the night:

I vaguely remember coming home at 6am via someone's house and woke up on Monday afternoon with a painful liver, an eye infection and a nasty hangover.

I'm not sure I've recovered yet. Time for a lengthy spell off the beers......