High Exposure
Warning: This entry retells an experience at a nudist/swinger event where I had to play solo piano/sing. For the simple sake of making sure that I don’t forget the details myself over time, I’m going to make this post as accurate as possible. There is adult material here, so if you’re under 18, don’t read this post. Likewise, if you don’t want to hear me talk about male and female genitalia, don’t read this post. If you don’t want to read about sexual acts, don’t read this post. But if you want some real vivid details about what the nudist/swinger underground society is like…enjoy!
It all begins with a phone call Sunday offering directions to the location. No address, just step by step instructions on how best to get there. So I follow the directions and arrive at the designated location not knowing what to expect. I pull into a fairly long, heavily wooded circular driveway, packed with cars on all sides. There must have been 50-70 cars at the house, including Corvettes, a Prowler, motorcycles, and other newer looking vehicles, which was a bit of a relief because now I’m pretty sure I’m not at some raunchy hillbilly sex fest. There’s no one around, but I can definitely hear voices on the other side of the house, so I approach the locked front door and ring the doorbell. A heavy set woman answers the door in nothing more than a long shirt (I’m thankful for the length). Going into this, I received a few warnings that nudists are not especially attractive people, if not downright hideous, and I hate to say she fit the bill. Seeing this woman caused a bit of concern about the upcoming parade of “ugly stick” beatings I was expecting to see when I ventured towards the main event. Regardless, I introduced myself and asked to talk to the owner, who we’ll name “Bob” for the sake of privacy. The woman walks me through the house, where I see clothed people cooking or watching TV, and out onto the patio…
Before I get onto the patio I see my first view of what’s to come, a middle aged woman, topless, relaxing with a cigarette and a pair of gigantic breasts. I’d describe her as being on the good side of ugly. But hey, I’ve been to Europe, I’ve seen topless beaches, no worries here, just keep walking and don’t remove the sunglasses I’ve purposely kept on. The house is actually quite large and has a great piece of property behind it. The patio I stepped out onto was on the second floor of the house in relation to the back yard, so I was able to get a pretty good view of the lay of the land, among other things. I saw in front of me a huge pool with an enclosure built around it, like a large tent. To it’s left, a patio with lawn chairs and a Jacuzzi, on the far side was sand volley ball, and to it’s right another Jacuzzi, showers, and a two tiered brick patio that opened up into the yard. It’s really a nice place to have a party…just not a great place to view one.
So my escort walks me onto the patio and starts looking for “Bob”, yelling out his name, trying to alert him to my arrival. It’s at that point a man in his mid fifties walks up the stairs on to the patio and introduces himself as the man I’ve been speaking with on the phone. He’s wearing a hat and…nothing else. I don’t shake his hand. I’m taken at this point to my eventual location, which is on the higher of the two-tiered brick patios and am introduced to “Bill”, the resident DJ and caretaker of the house. “Bill” helps me work out the logistics, runs power, and found an umbrella to offer some shade seeing as I was placed in direct sunlight, and is thankfully fully clothed. He’s a super laid back guy, really accommodating, and seemed excited that I was there, so it was nice to have a bit of a roadie for a while.
As I continue to assess my situation and take inventory of my surroundings, behind me there are three things. First, a photo booth on the patio I just came from, a room that I avoided at all costs. Second, a Jacuzzi. And third, for who knows what reason, two baby goats. Don’t ask me why, but there were literally two baby goats screaming behind me, I was told they were 4 days old. So I’m seeing people bringing bottles from the house to feed the goats with which is weird enough in itself. But I got my first true taste of what I was in for when a naked woman, who had just been feeding the goats, approached Bill the roadie and complained about getting the goat milk on her chest. Bill then began to lick the unwelcome liquid from her breast…I continued to set up on my own.
Walking in and out of the house as I brought my gear to the patio, I noticed telling sign posted to the front door, which read “Thanks for cumming, please cum again”. Yeah, so this definitely isn’t my usual gig. I successfully move all my gear through the house without brushing against any appendages and get set up and ready to play. Bill kills the music that he’s been playing from his DJ booth and introduces me as the “Amazing Mike on Piano” (a name that Bob came up with for me while he was sitting naked feeding the goats). Show time.
I originally told Bob my show can be any number of things, we can do jazz and make it background music, pop music, or try to get people singing along, which is generally my goal for private entertaining. I had another microphone set up for people to sing into, along with my lyric books set out on a table in front of me. My first request was from a naked old man who wanted to sing “Night and Day”, but then he couldn’t remember the lyrics and decided not to go for it. So I figured I’d gauge the audience and see what did and didn’t work. In looking around, to be honest, I was surprised by the people I saw, most of which were decent looking people ranging from late twenties to mid forties, and then your smattering of old naked guys - not even close to the warnings everyone had given me (granted, there were still certainly a few who fit the bill). Maybe half are fully naked, while others ranged from fully clothed to bathing suits. Some suits however, were only designed to accentuate what should otherwise be covered up…so I saw some styles I wasn’t previously aware existed. Anyway, I’m playing some tunes on the first set, and I’d say my role turned more towards background music. There wasn’t much involvement, but I think that’s because people were busy doing other things…
…namely, eachother. Yes, there was no doubt, I saw people having sex out in the yard. There was a group of people on the lower tier patio, amongst whom one couple decided oral sex was a good idea. And when the BJ started, the surrounding people make a joke about it, quick laugh, and then the woman gets back to business. But that wasn’t too bad compared to her turning around and then letting him go for the rim job, followed by some slow motion fingering. I was wishing for darker sunglasses as they seemed to approach their own Arabian goggles. Over the course of the evening I’m sure I saw no less than four different BJs, a healty collection of general groping, along with the less frequent full on intercourse for the couples who just didn’t bother with investing the time into finding an area out of view. Meanwhile, there’s a table set up next to me selling different novelty items…I wonder if there was a refund policy?
Set one finishes and the pig roast is ready, dinner time. I venture down into the yard where they just finished roasting the pig and I ask where the plates are. One guy pulling the pork apart says everything is being served in the pool area, but then tells me “don’t be shy” and shoves a piece of pork in my face (which in all honesty, might have been the best way for me to receive the pork). So I turn and walk towards the pool (pork in hand), which brings me along side the volleyball area, where I notice that the volleyball “ready position” is extremely unfortunate to view from behind. I was thankful that my piano setup had me at an angle where I couldn’t see this “balls out” game. While walking into the pool area, I quickly become aware of how difficult it is to negotiate a path through the party. Although it wasn’t packed, there was a constant fear of someone turning around at the wrong time and accidentally (maybe) slapping you with their schlong. I got in line behind three fully naked men, which brought me to the realization that they’d probably touched themselves multiple times before getting in line for food, so I’m guessing the spoon handles weren’t exactly sanitary. But hey, the utensils looked clean, so I grabbed some food and tried not to think, then washed my hands.
But even washing my hands was an issue. I asked Bill the DJ where the restroom was, so he walked me inside and showed me his DJ booth, the dance floor (complete with poles for dancing), and pointed me towards a closed door. Not wanting to walk in on something, I asked Bill if the bathroom was occupied, who then went through a series of knocks and verbal questions trying to get an answer out of someone. Apparently, people just hang in the bathroom waiting for someone to come in…I was glad to avoid any such ambush. The bathroom was a little dirty, not as bad as you might think (I’ve seen worse in gas stations), and had a paper towel dispenser like you’d see at a usual business. At least they’re trying to be somewhat sanitary.
Set two begins and I have a couple people sitting across from me half dressed, which is a welcomed audience. A few tunes into the set, some lady that I don’t recognize sit’s down next to me letting me know that the house is between parties and Bob was hoping I could take a long break and then play till 9. Apparently, there were two party shifts, afternoon and late night. Curious to see how rowdy the late night group would get, I agreed to 8:30 and took another break. At this point, the girl running the sex toy booth next to me had come over and implied something about me staying afterwards and partying. There was little question as to what she meant by “partying”, and my small audience who overheard the comment had to crack some joke about this chick “having her hands on all the guys at this party.” I shrugged off the invitation, which I was thankful for after I saw what she had to offer, which she inadvertently displayed in my direction while apparently trying to explain some product to a client at her sex toy table…I’m guessing some sort of piercing, but I guess I’ll never know. Bill the DJ did say she had a nice ass, however.
So I take another break, which I spend sitting at my keyboard due to a lack of desire to explore other areas of the property. I see a new group of people starting to enter the party and start playing again when Bill turns off the music in his DJ booth. This is my third set and really my only one with a decent, interactive audience. At this point, people are coming by and grabbing the microphone and singing some tunes karaoke style. Now I’ve had my patch cables go through a lot in my gigging career, but I never thought I’d see a heavy set girl trying to sing “Proud to be an American” with one of my cables getting buried into her chest. The majority of my crowd though was clothed, which surprised me considering this was the late night crowd (though there were no fewer than four fully nude people in the hot tub behind me). I then started to have a little fun with the crowd, changing certain lyrics to reflect the nudist situation, and cracking jokes about the random naked men that might cross in front of my keyboard from time to time. But it’s great when you can do “Sweet Caroline” and at the part that says “Hands, touching hands, reaching out, touching me, touching you”, I have the opportunity to get people to literally touch each other. Meanwhile, who knows what the hot tub crew was doing behind me, and I can only hope that the lyric book I gave them to look through didn’t get molested too terribly, and don’t forget the two random goats that are still hopping around. 8:30 came and went and it wasn’t till 8:45 that I noticed what time it was, at which point I decided to continue till 9 and finish the set out. I thanked everyone, said goodnight, and began packing up. I moved my equipment out of my area while two people got it on in the hot tub behind me, which was amusing because there was a different position with every trip I made back and forth to the car.
I’m fully packed up, ready to go, and after turning down a few invitations to stay and party that night, I try to find another restroom before departing. This restroom was not empty however, so just to serve as one last reminder of where I was before I left, the bathroom door opened as a woman stepped out and the man behind her adjusted his pants, complaining to me “what’s the big rush?”. I find Bob, get paid, exchange some chitchat about the event, and successfully leave the party.
But all in all, despite everything I’ve recounted here, I actually really enjoyed the party. As one of my listeners commented while I was packing up, after you party there, no other party will ever really compare. As soon as you let go of the strangeness of what was going on and accepted the fully nude people that are walking past the keyboard as part of the scenery, everything just became humorous. Everywhere you looked there was a joke to be made, and everyone knew it. And because of the nature of the event, the people were really friendly and laid back (not to be confused with getting laid), creating a welcoming environment. After the initial shock of seeing the nudists, the first BJ, first intercourse, first anything, I just accepted it for what it was and did my best to enjoy the show (within reason). People were having a great time, and that energy is infectious. In talking to Bob at the end, I told him I came in not knowing what to expect, but actually enjoyed myself as I got settled in and would even be interested in doing other gigs there. Turns out these parties are thrown every week, however music is brought in maybe twice a year. I don’t know that the opportunity will present itself again (I was a last minute solution to a band who bailed on the gig), but I truthfully enjoyed the gig if for nothing more than the challenge of finding the humor in the situation. I certainly saw things I could have lived without, and that night I had crazy messed up dreams, but it all adds to the experience and the thrill that goes along with diving head first into a situation completely alone.
Thanks for reading this unusual post and following my facebook posts. And if you’re throwing a nudist/swinger party, please don’t hesitate to contact me for bookings. Cheers!
Tuesday, July 5, 2011
Wednesday, May 19, 2010
Southampton
April 20th
Southampton
Still here, with still little sign of returning home soon. Today started with breakfast, followed by a walk to the mall where we wasted some time walking around clothing stores looking at everything we can’t buy due to weight restrictions on our baggage. So after we were amply depressed, we went to our usual café to get online. I discovered two things this afternoon online: First was that a train pass to London costs way more than I’d expected, about 60 pounds, or $100 for a roundtrip pass. This will probably kill all hopes of going to London. And second, I found out that one of my friends from an older ship, Igor (who I called James because I thought he looked like James Bond), was stuck in Gatwick, an airport south of London. He can get a train pass to get to Southampton for just 10 pounds, so hopefully I can hang out with him one of these days.
We returned to the hotel for lunch, which the company is now providing for us, so that’s nice. And lunch was followed by the highlight of my day, some good old-fashioned busking.
For those of you not familiar with the term, busking, in my case, is playing my sax somewhere in the city. I decided to try it out in a park near the hotel that
And that’s where my post stopped when I picked it up again in May 19th. So I guess I’m a month late in finishing this up, but I’m going to do my best.
The busking went fine and it was an interesting experience. Oddly enough, the majority of people who gave me money looked like they had the least to give, and the business people in suits and ties never stopped once. I played for about 90 minutes or so that afternoon, and then again on the next day, to make about 30 pounds, or around $50. Not bad for being able to stand out in a park on a nice sunny day and practice.
Both evenings consisted of dinner at the hotel and internet late at night after that at some pub, the only place we knew of that had internet and was open till midnight. So the days weren’t too eventful, slightly dull with a bit of sax mixed in, but we did have gorgeous days to walk around, so that was great!
I think one of those nights had a jam session going on in town. It was held at a bar and ran like the usual jams I go to in the states. I grabbed my sax to go play, and after all the egomaniacal guitarists got done trying to impress everyone, someone who cared about music finally invited me up where the sax became an instant hit. One guy brought a keyboard, dressed like a hippy on LSD, and had me play with him on some strange almost funky grooves. He was a nice guy despite the description, and gave me one of his pins after we were done, which reads “Cosmic Troubadour” and has a rainbow on it. Strange night.
The 22nd consisted of John and I going to London (Thanks John for buying that train ticket for me!), where we basically walked around a lot. We saw the important sites while making our way through the city and then back again to our train station. The highlight, however, was finding a great saxophone store, where we were able to just play great, new horns. The guy who was helping us gave me a reed to use, a $600 mouthpiece to play, and their most expensive horns. It was a super nice place and a really fun way to spend part of our day. I ended up buying a t-shirt and book just to show my appreciation.
We thought about hitting a jazz club, but it’d mean that we’d miss dinner at the hotel and have to spend tons more money in London, so we made our way back to the train and returned to Southampton in good time.
The next day was our flight home, a Friday, which we didn’t get the details for till Wednesday. So 5 days later John and I were both on our planes back to Chicago, where he then continued to St Louis. And there ends another ship adventure, one with a strange volcanic twist on the end. As always, thanks for reading the blog, and sorry for any delay that caused concern for me being still stranded in England! Take care, Cheers, and till we meet again!
Southampton
Still here, with still little sign of returning home soon. Today started with breakfast, followed by a walk to the mall where we wasted some time walking around clothing stores looking at everything we can’t buy due to weight restrictions on our baggage. So after we were amply depressed, we went to our usual café to get online. I discovered two things this afternoon online: First was that a train pass to London costs way more than I’d expected, about 60 pounds, or $100 for a roundtrip pass. This will probably kill all hopes of going to London. And second, I found out that one of my friends from an older ship, Igor (who I called James because I thought he looked like James Bond), was stuck in Gatwick, an airport south of London. He can get a train pass to get to Southampton for just 10 pounds, so hopefully I can hang out with him one of these days.
We returned to the hotel for lunch, which the company is now providing for us, so that’s nice. And lunch was followed by the highlight of my day, some good old-fashioned busking.
For those of you not familiar with the term, busking, in my case, is playing my sax somewhere in the city. I decided to try it out in a park near the hotel that
And that’s where my post stopped when I picked it up again in May 19th. So I guess I’m a month late in finishing this up, but I’m going to do my best.
The busking went fine and it was an interesting experience. Oddly enough, the majority of people who gave me money looked like they had the least to give, and the business people in suits and ties never stopped once. I played for about 90 minutes or so that afternoon, and then again on the next day, to make about 30 pounds, or around $50. Not bad for being able to stand out in a park on a nice sunny day and practice.
Both evenings consisted of dinner at the hotel and internet late at night after that at some pub, the only place we knew of that had internet and was open till midnight. So the days weren’t too eventful, slightly dull with a bit of sax mixed in, but we did have gorgeous days to walk around, so that was great!
I think one of those nights had a jam session going on in town. It was held at a bar and ran like the usual jams I go to in the states. I grabbed my sax to go play, and after all the egomaniacal guitarists got done trying to impress everyone, someone who cared about music finally invited me up where the sax became an instant hit. One guy brought a keyboard, dressed like a hippy on LSD, and had me play with him on some strange almost funky grooves. He was a nice guy despite the description, and gave me one of his pins after we were done, which reads “Cosmic Troubadour” and has a rainbow on it. Strange night.
The 22nd consisted of John and I going to London (Thanks John for buying that train ticket for me!), where we basically walked around a lot. We saw the important sites while making our way through the city and then back again to our train station. The highlight, however, was finding a great saxophone store, where we were able to just play great, new horns. The guy who was helping us gave me a reed to use, a $600 mouthpiece to play, and their most expensive horns. It was a super nice place and a really fun way to spend part of our day. I ended up buying a t-shirt and book just to show my appreciation.
We thought about hitting a jazz club, but it’d mean that we’d miss dinner at the hotel and have to spend tons more money in London, so we made our way back to the train and returned to Southampton in good time.
The next day was our flight home, a Friday, which we didn’t get the details for till Wednesday. So 5 days later John and I were both on our planes back to Chicago, where he then continued to St Louis. And there ends another ship adventure, one with a strange volcanic twist on the end. As always, thanks for reading the blog, and sorry for any delay that caused concern for me being still stranded in England! Take care, Cheers, and till we meet again!
I did make it home
Just in case anyone is still wondering, I did in fact make it home, I just haven't finished posting those blogs I've written.
Anyway, my current project is starting to teach music lessons online live, using webcams and lots of cool software. I'm posting a link to my site here because I think it helps my rankings on Google. Check it out if you get a chance!
http://www.playwhatyouwant.com
Thanks!
Anyway, my current project is starting to teach music lessons online live, using webcams and lots of cool software. I'm posting a link to my site here because I think it helps my rankings on Google. Check it out if you get a chance!
http://www.playwhatyouwant.com
Thanks!
Thursday, April 22, 2010
Southampton
April 19th
Southampton
Today was my first full day sitting in England with nothing to do, so John and I have been trying to think of how to pass our days. The morning was started by going into the city for internet access, followed by a quick lunch bought from a grocery store. We had found a jazz saxophone concert listing in a brochure that was scheduled to take place at the University of Southampton, which after being told it was about 2 miles away, we decided to walk there. We set out around noon and after a lot of wandering around the campus, we arrived at the concert hall at 1:00, just in time for the start.
It was a free concert that the university was putting on, but it was supposed to feature an American saxophonist, someone who’s in the opposite problem of mine: he couldn’t fly to England. Instead, we listened to the saxophone professor do the concert instead, which was still very good. That lasted about an hour, after which we decided to wander through the music school. This culminated in us wandering into a saxophone class with the same rhythm section that we’d just seen at the concert, and we sat in on the lesson, listening to the students go up one at a time to play with the guest artists. We were thus able to kill another 90 minutes of our day, and followed by the walk back to the hotel, it was now almost time for dinner. Dinner was followed by going to a pub that we knew had free internet, and being the only place open at night and the best time to get in contact with the states, we stayed there till about 11:00 before making our way back to the hotel.
And with that, we’ve successfully killed our first day here. Tomorrow is going to be a little harder, and we’re debating a trip to London, but we’ll see where the day takes us. Thanks for reading and I hope to be able to stop writing this blog soon!!!!! Seeya!
Southampton
Today was my first full day sitting in England with nothing to do, so John and I have been trying to think of how to pass our days. The morning was started by going into the city for internet access, followed by a quick lunch bought from a grocery store. We had found a jazz saxophone concert listing in a brochure that was scheduled to take place at the University of Southampton, which after being told it was about 2 miles away, we decided to walk there. We set out around noon and after a lot of wandering around the campus, we arrived at the concert hall at 1:00, just in time for the start.
It was a free concert that the university was putting on, but it was supposed to feature an American saxophonist, someone who’s in the opposite problem of mine: he couldn’t fly to England. Instead, we listened to the saxophone professor do the concert instead, which was still very good. That lasted about an hour, after which we decided to wander through the music school. This culminated in us wandering into a saxophone class with the same rhythm section that we’d just seen at the concert, and we sat in on the lesson, listening to the students go up one at a time to play with the guest artists. We were thus able to kill another 90 minutes of our day, and followed by the walk back to the hotel, it was now almost time for dinner. Dinner was followed by going to a pub that we knew had free internet, and being the only place open at night and the best time to get in contact with the states, we stayed there till about 11:00 before making our way back to the hotel.
And with that, we’ve successfully killed our first day here. Tomorrow is going to be a little harder, and we’re debating a trip to London, but we’ll see where the day takes us. Thanks for reading and I hope to be able to stop writing this blog soon!!!!! Seeya!
Southampton
April 18th
Southampton
I woke up this morning, finished getting my stuff sorted and began the check out process. The first flaw of what I’m expecting to be many, was the mixed messages I was getting about how I’m going to my hotel. I was supposed to get my stuff off the ship by 10, but I couldn’t check into the hotel till 2. I was supposed to provide my own transportation to the hotel, but John (the other sax player who’s in the exact same situation as me) had a taxi arranged for him by the company. Everything was confused and changing every time I asked someone, so I got off the ship with all my stuff at 10 hoping for the best, and got it. I was planning on just taking the shuttle into the city and walking the rest of the way, but I ran into one of my friends who was rejoining the ship, and he had his car with him because he lived in the area, so he drove me to my hotel, nice!
At the hotel, they couldn’t find my reservation, problem two. He found John’s, but I didn’t have a reservation to check in for that day. After 10 minutes we figured out why…I had a reservation for checking in yesterday (while I was sailing out of France). Luckily though, this mistake was in my favor, so I could move all my stuff into my room right then, grab my continental breakfast, and then walk back to the city at my leisure. And the reservation was for two days, so I knew I was covered for tonight. So I returned to the city, found my band, hung out at a café, and then returned to the ship with John on the shuttle to get one last free lunch and grab his bags for his taxi ride to the hotel.
I decided not to hop in the taxi with him and the other 2 guys that he was sharing with, so I went back to the city on the shuttle and walked to the hotel where I waited for John to get settled in before we started trying to figure out what we were going to do during our extended stay on Southampton.
I started out with a trip to a café to make some phone calls and take care of online stuff, hung out till they kicked me out 15 minutes after closing time, and returned to my room to take an amazing bath! Having my own hotel room has some killer advantages over the cabins I’ve been in for the past 2 months. This was followed by dinner with John, and then we headed into the city to find Neil, the drummer in our band, who had also signed off the ship that day to take care of some family things back at home.
Neil was at a different hotel, so we walked in that direction, and in the tradition of any good band member, we knew the best place to find him was at the closest bar to the hotel. Bingo! We sat down for a drink, some last goodbyes, and then he headed to bed so that he could catch an early train.
By the time John and I had left the bar, we noticed a huge line of college kids outside of a night club, something that was too out of character for this city at night to not check out for ourselves. There were literally hundreds of college kids lined up to get into this place, and apparently they’d all just returned from vacation and were about to start a new semester at school. We eventually started talking to one of the bouncers at the door and asked about the club. It was an “American sports bar” aimed at college kids, though I’ve never heard a sports bar blasting dance music in the states quite like that. We told the guy our story, that we were stuck in the city, and I jokingly asked if we could get in free since we’re Americans. And amazingly enough, he was going to let us walk right in, in front of the hundreds of people, so that we could have a beer and check it out. The best part though was the condition that John needed to “lose” his bright yellow, “authentic island wear” baseball cap. Apparently he just wasn’t cool enough for the bar with it on. We thanked the guy for the offer, but not wanted to blow out our eardrums, we made our way back to the hotel joking about how many ways John’s yellow hat was the antithesis of cool.
Anyway, that’s day one of who knows how many. We are set up in the hotel for as long as needed, but I’m hoping this ash cloud problem gets sorted out quickly enough that I can make it home this week. Till then, I’m stuck in a city that I’ve never been in for more than a few hours, living in a hotel, provided with 2 meals a day. But hey, I’ll just try to use this time to relax, cool down after the ship, and get excited about seeing people back at home. And at least I’m not stuck in some third world country, or somewhere that doesn’t speak English, so the situation could definitely be worse. I’ll make the most of it while I await word from P&O for a plane ticket home. So till then, fingers crossed that this ash cloud dissipates quickly and that I’m back in my own country. Thanks!
Southampton
I woke up this morning, finished getting my stuff sorted and began the check out process. The first flaw of what I’m expecting to be many, was the mixed messages I was getting about how I’m going to my hotel. I was supposed to get my stuff off the ship by 10, but I couldn’t check into the hotel till 2. I was supposed to provide my own transportation to the hotel, but John (the other sax player who’s in the exact same situation as me) had a taxi arranged for him by the company. Everything was confused and changing every time I asked someone, so I got off the ship with all my stuff at 10 hoping for the best, and got it. I was planning on just taking the shuttle into the city and walking the rest of the way, but I ran into one of my friends who was rejoining the ship, and he had his car with him because he lived in the area, so he drove me to my hotel, nice!
At the hotel, they couldn’t find my reservation, problem two. He found John’s, but I didn’t have a reservation to check in for that day. After 10 minutes we figured out why…I had a reservation for checking in yesterday (while I was sailing out of France). Luckily though, this mistake was in my favor, so I could move all my stuff into my room right then, grab my continental breakfast, and then walk back to the city at my leisure. And the reservation was for two days, so I knew I was covered for tonight. So I returned to the city, found my band, hung out at a café, and then returned to the ship with John on the shuttle to get one last free lunch and grab his bags for his taxi ride to the hotel.
I decided not to hop in the taxi with him and the other 2 guys that he was sharing with, so I went back to the city on the shuttle and walked to the hotel where I waited for John to get settled in before we started trying to figure out what we were going to do during our extended stay on Southampton.
I started out with a trip to a café to make some phone calls and take care of online stuff, hung out till they kicked me out 15 minutes after closing time, and returned to my room to take an amazing bath! Having my own hotel room has some killer advantages over the cabins I’ve been in for the past 2 months. This was followed by dinner with John, and then we headed into the city to find Neil, the drummer in our band, who had also signed off the ship that day to take care of some family things back at home.
Neil was at a different hotel, so we walked in that direction, and in the tradition of any good band member, we knew the best place to find him was at the closest bar to the hotel. Bingo! We sat down for a drink, some last goodbyes, and then he headed to bed so that he could catch an early train.
By the time John and I had left the bar, we noticed a huge line of college kids outside of a night club, something that was too out of character for this city at night to not check out for ourselves. There were literally hundreds of college kids lined up to get into this place, and apparently they’d all just returned from vacation and were about to start a new semester at school. We eventually started talking to one of the bouncers at the door and asked about the club. It was an “American sports bar” aimed at college kids, though I’ve never heard a sports bar blasting dance music in the states quite like that. We told the guy our story, that we were stuck in the city, and I jokingly asked if we could get in free since we’re Americans. And amazingly enough, he was going to let us walk right in, in front of the hundreds of people, so that we could have a beer and check it out. The best part though was the condition that John needed to “lose” his bright yellow, “authentic island wear” baseball cap. Apparently he just wasn’t cool enough for the bar with it on. We thanked the guy for the offer, but not wanted to blow out our eardrums, we made our way back to the hotel joking about how many ways John’s yellow hat was the antithesis of cool.
Anyway, that’s day one of who knows how many. We are set up in the hotel for as long as needed, but I’m hoping this ash cloud problem gets sorted out quickly enough that I can make it home this week. Till then, I’m stuck in a city that I’ve never been in for more than a few hours, living in a hotel, provided with 2 meals a day. But hey, I’ll just try to use this time to relax, cool down after the ship, and get excited about seeing people back at home. And at least I’m not stuck in some third world country, or somewhere that doesn’t speak English, so the situation could definitely be worse. I’ll make the most of it while I await word from P&O for a plane ticket home. So till then, fingers crossed that this ash cloud dissipates quickly and that I’m back in my own country. Thanks!
Brest
April 17th
Brest, France
Today is the beginning of what I’m sure is going to be an interesting end to my contract. I’m scheduled to return home tomorrow, but thanks to a certain volcano that doesn’t want to stop erupting in my general direction, it doesn’t look like I’m going to fly home any time soon. That in mind, and me not knowing what the ship was going to do about it, I decided to skip my tour that day and go into the city of Brest and find an internet connection to ascertain what my next few days would consist of. I was afraid the ship was going to drive me to the airport and say good luck…the airport every news channel says to stay away from because everything’s cancelled. And when the people on the ship gave me no assurance of being looked after once I signed off, I didn’t have a choice but to find out my options.
So I took my shuttle into the city and walked along the main street till I got to the first café with wireless. One problem though, I don’t speak French to ask about the wireless, ask if it’s free, or what stipulations there are. Actually, I can’t even pronounce the word right: I walked up to the lady behind the counter to ask about Wi-Fi. So, I said Wi-Fi in a question tone. She looked confused. I said it again, same response. I pointed at the sticker on the door and again said Wi-Fi, blank stare. I then went to the window and tapped on the sticker. Well, it’s not pronounced Wi-Fi in France, it somehow became “wee-fee”. Now that she understood what I wanted, she went off in French about it, meaning it was my turn to return those same blank stares. Usually, if I’m trying to talk to someone who doesn’t speak English, I use single words and a lot of hand gestures…she tried to handle my French deficiencies by speaking in really long sentences really quickly. I ended up with a little brochure about how to sign on, which I didn’t need, all I wanted to know was whether it was free. Well, it was, so I sat down, ordered the most amazing croissant and most expensive fruit smoothie ever, and proceeded to figure out my future. I figured a good step one would be to call the emergency travel number the ship gave me, so I did, and found out that they were planning on putting me in a hotel till I could leave. Mission accomplished! Why the ship didn’t know this is beyond me, but I spent a little more time online before packing up and returning to the ship with the confidence that I wouldn’t be thrown off the ship the following day with a cancelled plane ticket and a “good luck”.
I walked back to the shuttle drop off, passing some music stores that I briefly visited, again with my French being the downfall in my plan. And before getting on my shuttle, I came across what seemed to be some sort of fair for kids, but a super active fair. One in which kids were learning how to ride unicycles, fencing, row machines, balance on yoga balls, play basketball, jump on trampolines, and more. It was amazing to see so many people out being that active, and just creepy to see 10 kids trying to ride unicycles. I don’t know if the French culture just trains everyone to be in the circus just for the fun of it or if I just stumbled on a collection of kids who’ve all inspired a strange affinity in their community for trampoline back flips, but regardless, it was neat to see.
And that’s it, I played my final two shows the night, packed my stuff up, and I was done with my contract. Now I get to sit back and see how long I end up being stranded in England, woohoo! Seeya
Brest, France
Today is the beginning of what I’m sure is going to be an interesting end to my contract. I’m scheduled to return home tomorrow, but thanks to a certain volcano that doesn’t want to stop erupting in my general direction, it doesn’t look like I’m going to fly home any time soon. That in mind, and me not knowing what the ship was going to do about it, I decided to skip my tour that day and go into the city of Brest and find an internet connection to ascertain what my next few days would consist of. I was afraid the ship was going to drive me to the airport and say good luck…the airport every news channel says to stay away from because everything’s cancelled. And when the people on the ship gave me no assurance of being looked after once I signed off, I didn’t have a choice but to find out my options.
So I took my shuttle into the city and walked along the main street till I got to the first café with wireless. One problem though, I don’t speak French to ask about the wireless, ask if it’s free, or what stipulations there are. Actually, I can’t even pronounce the word right: I walked up to the lady behind the counter to ask about Wi-Fi. So, I said Wi-Fi in a question tone. She looked confused. I said it again, same response. I pointed at the sticker on the door and again said Wi-Fi, blank stare. I then went to the window and tapped on the sticker. Well, it’s not pronounced Wi-Fi in France, it somehow became “wee-fee”. Now that she understood what I wanted, she went off in French about it, meaning it was my turn to return those same blank stares. Usually, if I’m trying to talk to someone who doesn’t speak English, I use single words and a lot of hand gestures…she tried to handle my French deficiencies by speaking in really long sentences really quickly. I ended up with a little brochure about how to sign on, which I didn’t need, all I wanted to know was whether it was free. Well, it was, so I sat down, ordered the most amazing croissant and most expensive fruit smoothie ever, and proceeded to figure out my future. I figured a good step one would be to call the emergency travel number the ship gave me, so I did, and found out that they were planning on putting me in a hotel till I could leave. Mission accomplished! Why the ship didn’t know this is beyond me, but I spent a little more time online before packing up and returning to the ship with the confidence that I wouldn’t be thrown off the ship the following day with a cancelled plane ticket and a “good luck”.
I walked back to the shuttle drop off, passing some music stores that I briefly visited, again with my French being the downfall in my plan. And before getting on my shuttle, I came across what seemed to be some sort of fair for kids, but a super active fair. One in which kids were learning how to ride unicycles, fencing, row machines, balance on yoga balls, play basketball, jump on trampolines, and more. It was amazing to see so many people out being that active, and just creepy to see 10 kids trying to ride unicycles. I don’t know if the French culture just trains everyone to be in the circus just for the fun of it or if I just stumbled on a collection of kids who’ve all inspired a strange affinity in their community for trampoline back flips, but regardless, it was neat to see.
And that’s it, I played my final two shows the night, packed my stuff up, and I was done with my contract. Now I get to sit back and see how long I end up being stranded in England, woohoo! Seeya
At Sea, Bilbao
April 15th-16th
At Sea/Bilbao, Spain
I have nothing special to report for the sea day.
The 16th was my first trip to Bilbao, something I was excited for seeing as I’ve never been to the port before. The plan for the day was to escort a tour that took my into the historic district of the main city, and then brought my group to a town on the coast, a one time fishing village, now overrun with vacation houses.
The actual city of Bilbao was surprisingly nice. Apparently, it used to be an extremely industrial city, a place no one was interested in visiting, but it’s transformed into a gorgeous city, with lovely parks, sculptures, bridges, and museums. It’s most famous for the Guggenheim Museum, the tour I really wanted to get on, but was for what ever reason unable to. But for a city that most people are completely unfamiliar with, it blew me away with how nice everything was. The tour simply walked through the older district so that we could see the architecture and have a couple different historical sights explained to us. It was nice, nothing too exciting, but the city was so pleasant that it made for a great walking tour.
For whatever reason, people who can’t walk always like to sign up for walking tours. I don’t know what the issue is, whether they’re in denial of their condition, think they’ll like the challenge, or if they’re just simply illiterate and can’t read the warnings in the brochure, but there are always one or two people that really put a burden on the tour by shuffling through the streets with their canes. Please, if you ever go on a tour and think you may have mobility difficulties, please fully consider what you’re getting yourself into. Not only will you terribly annoy the entire group, but you’ll hate the tour because you can’t keep up. And, most importantly, you’ll annoy me, the tour escort, who spends the tour running back and forth between the main group and you stragglers who can’t keep up, just so that you’ll know the group turned left 3 blocks ahead. I’d love to just stay with the main group while you’re slowly consumed by the winding roads we walk through, but I’m afraid that I’d never escort again if I left you in Spain. And not that anyone will probably read my rant and take head, but if it can save one tour escort from an old lady with a cane who just signed up to walk 2 ½ hours, I’ll be happy.
Anyway, the next stop was in a city called Castro…something. We saw a really old church that dated back to 1280, and some other old things…yeah, there’s not really much to describe. The city did have some unbelievably nice cafes, all of which I couldn’t stop in due to time restraints.
The tour was OK, I got to see what I wanted to see, it was just that nothing was really exciting. We then returned to the ship and I didn’t have enough time to get back to the city to see the museum, so I just hung out on the ship and waited to play my show for the night. Thanks for reading!
At Sea/Bilbao, Spain
I have nothing special to report for the sea day.
The 16th was my first trip to Bilbao, something I was excited for seeing as I’ve never been to the port before. The plan for the day was to escort a tour that took my into the historic district of the main city, and then brought my group to a town on the coast, a one time fishing village, now overrun with vacation houses.
The actual city of Bilbao was surprisingly nice. Apparently, it used to be an extremely industrial city, a place no one was interested in visiting, but it’s transformed into a gorgeous city, with lovely parks, sculptures, bridges, and museums. It’s most famous for the Guggenheim Museum, the tour I really wanted to get on, but was for what ever reason unable to. But for a city that most people are completely unfamiliar with, it blew me away with how nice everything was. The tour simply walked through the older district so that we could see the architecture and have a couple different historical sights explained to us. It was nice, nothing too exciting, but the city was so pleasant that it made for a great walking tour.
For whatever reason, people who can’t walk always like to sign up for walking tours. I don’t know what the issue is, whether they’re in denial of their condition, think they’ll like the challenge, or if they’re just simply illiterate and can’t read the warnings in the brochure, but there are always one or two people that really put a burden on the tour by shuffling through the streets with their canes. Please, if you ever go on a tour and think you may have mobility difficulties, please fully consider what you’re getting yourself into. Not only will you terribly annoy the entire group, but you’ll hate the tour because you can’t keep up. And, most importantly, you’ll annoy me, the tour escort, who spends the tour running back and forth between the main group and you stragglers who can’t keep up, just so that you’ll know the group turned left 3 blocks ahead. I’d love to just stay with the main group while you’re slowly consumed by the winding roads we walk through, but I’m afraid that I’d never escort again if I left you in Spain. And not that anyone will probably read my rant and take head, but if it can save one tour escort from an old lady with a cane who just signed up to walk 2 ½ hours, I’ll be happy.
Anyway, the next stop was in a city called Castro…something. We saw a really old church that dated back to 1280, and some other old things…yeah, there’s not really much to describe. The city did have some unbelievably nice cafes, all of which I couldn’t stop in due to time restraints.
The tour was OK, I got to see what I wanted to see, it was just that nothing was really exciting. We then returned to the ship and I didn’t have enough time to get back to the city to see the museum, so I just hung out on the ship and waited to play my show for the night. Thanks for reading!
Cobh
April 14th
Cobh
Another Irish port today, the same one I’d visited a few years ago to visit Blarney Castle. I couldn’t get on the tour I wanted, so after sleeping in a bit in the morning, I got off the ship just to have a walk around the sea side village on my own. It was cold today, which wasn’t all that bad after you got used to it. And there’s something really charming about these Irish towns that you don’t get other places, so I walked as far as I felt I needed and returned 2 hours later to run into some friends on the street.
There’s nothing much to do in the small town of Cobh, so we ducked into a local pub and passed the rest of the day there. We had a night off tonight, so no one was too worried about having an extra pint of whichever Irish Stout we were drinking (I had Beamish). My only complaint about the city was that I couldn’t buy anything! There were literally no stores, pubs, cafes, or anything that would take my visa, apparently because of the processing costs. I wanted lunch, and after people had been buying me some drinks, I couldn’t let them buy my lunch too, but I ran into the same problem. My friends hung out at the bar while I roamed the streets trying to find someone who would accept my credit card, which ended up being a grocery store where I was able to buy some Chicken cutlets and a bag of chips (called Hunky Dorys). But even there I ran into a problem as they didn’t want to run any cards for less than 10 euro…my bill was 4. I explained my situation, that I had no euro, and the cashier made an exception and I was finally allowed to eat.
But that aside, it was a nice day where I was just able to relax on my walk and then hang out with my friends at a small, quiet pub in town. I guess that was really what the Irish experience should have been, hanging out at a pub and getting food from a “chippy”, as my Irish friend called the fast food place he ordered from. So nothing too exciting, but a nice day to kind of relax before the whole stress of packing up to go home hits. Thanks for reading!
Cobh
Another Irish port today, the same one I’d visited a few years ago to visit Blarney Castle. I couldn’t get on the tour I wanted, so after sleeping in a bit in the morning, I got off the ship just to have a walk around the sea side village on my own. It was cold today, which wasn’t all that bad after you got used to it. And there’s something really charming about these Irish towns that you don’t get other places, so I walked as far as I felt I needed and returned 2 hours later to run into some friends on the street.
There’s nothing much to do in the small town of Cobh, so we ducked into a local pub and passed the rest of the day there. We had a night off tonight, so no one was too worried about having an extra pint of whichever Irish Stout we were drinking (I had Beamish). My only complaint about the city was that I couldn’t buy anything! There were literally no stores, pubs, cafes, or anything that would take my visa, apparently because of the processing costs. I wanted lunch, and after people had been buying me some drinks, I couldn’t let them buy my lunch too, but I ran into the same problem. My friends hung out at the bar while I roamed the streets trying to find someone who would accept my credit card, which ended up being a grocery store where I was able to buy some Chicken cutlets and a bag of chips (called Hunky Dorys). But even there I ran into a problem as they didn’t want to run any cards for less than 10 euro…my bill was 4. I explained my situation, that I had no euro, and the cashier made an exception and I was finally allowed to eat.
But that aside, it was a nice day where I was just able to relax on my walk and then hang out with my friends at a small, quiet pub in town. I guess that was really what the Irish experience should have been, hanging out at a pub and getting food from a “chippy”, as my Irish friend called the fast food place he ordered from. So nothing too exciting, but a nice day to kind of relax before the whole stress of packing up to go home hits. Thanks for reading!
Dublin
April 13th
Dublin
I was scheduled for a tour today, but after finding out that we had a late sail from Dublin, my rehearsal got moved to the morning so that I couldn’t go on my tour to the Guinness Factory, something I was really looking forward to. So the day started with a morning rehearsal, and after a light lunch, I got off the ship with John to go look around Dublin.
After catching our shuttle into town, there was a certain area of town that John wanted to check out because of a Handel Celebration that was going on. Apparantly, we happened to show up on the 278th anniversary of Handel’s Messiah, which was first performed in Dublin on April 13th. It was kind of a strange coincidence, and honestly, a strange holiday to celebrate, but they had music in the streets in certain areas of town with some events being free. So our first stop was at an outdoor concert, which we stayed for 10 minutes before deciding to move on.
The next stop was the one place I actually wanted to see, the Guinness Factory! We walked across the city to get there, I bought a student ticket with my old college ID, and we entered an unbelievable museum dedicated to Guinness Beer. And it really was a well put together museum, spread over 7 floors, including everything from the production to the advertisement of the product, and a pint of “the black stuff” at the end.
I learned three things today. First, I had no idea Guinness Beer and the Guinness Book of Records were one in the same, the latter being started by the former sparked on by a conversation about the fasted game bird. Second, I wanted to figure out why all the old Guinness ads use a toucan, which seems like a strange spokesperson for beer. Guinness had a saying, “Guinness is good for you”, so if one pint is good, imagine what “two-can” do! And third, I learned how to pour the perfect pint of Guinness out of a tap, and was given a certificate to prove it. There is a technique to it, and after learning it, I feel I’m well on my way to becoming a bar tender…or not.
John and I hung out there for a while just taking our time, which in the end would have been a lot better than going on a tour, where I would have been rushed through the place and wouldn’t have enjoyed it nearly as much. So after ample time spent, we left to make our way back towards the main street of the city that we’d missed earlier in the day, planning on stopping at the first bar we found that started with an “O”. We grabbed a Cornish pastry on the way, which was quite good, and just kind of walked through the city. The main street was nothing but shopping, so that didn’t interest us too much. We eventually ended up at a shopping mall where John could by an infant sized shirt for his granddaughter, and where I used my phone to get online. For whatever reason, this shopping center had signs everywhere advertising its free WiFi, yet they made you pay to use their bathrooms…I guess that’s just Ireland for you.
We eventually started running out of time, and after somehow avoiding every bar that started with an “O”, we returned to the shuttle without ever stopping for another drink. But after the amount of walking we did and our upcoming show that night, we didn’t mind, happily returned to the ship with a good feeling for the city, and finished out the night as usual. It was a nice day and nice to be back in Ireland after about 3 years elsewhere in the world. Thanks for reading, your next pint of Guinness is on me!
Dublin
I was scheduled for a tour today, but after finding out that we had a late sail from Dublin, my rehearsal got moved to the morning so that I couldn’t go on my tour to the Guinness Factory, something I was really looking forward to. So the day started with a morning rehearsal, and after a light lunch, I got off the ship with John to go look around Dublin.
After catching our shuttle into town, there was a certain area of town that John wanted to check out because of a Handel Celebration that was going on. Apparantly, we happened to show up on the 278th anniversary of Handel’s Messiah, which was first performed in Dublin on April 13th. It was kind of a strange coincidence, and honestly, a strange holiday to celebrate, but they had music in the streets in certain areas of town with some events being free. So our first stop was at an outdoor concert, which we stayed for 10 minutes before deciding to move on.
The next stop was the one place I actually wanted to see, the Guinness Factory! We walked across the city to get there, I bought a student ticket with my old college ID, and we entered an unbelievable museum dedicated to Guinness Beer. And it really was a well put together museum, spread over 7 floors, including everything from the production to the advertisement of the product, and a pint of “the black stuff” at the end.
I learned three things today. First, I had no idea Guinness Beer and the Guinness Book of Records were one in the same, the latter being started by the former sparked on by a conversation about the fasted game bird. Second, I wanted to figure out why all the old Guinness ads use a toucan, which seems like a strange spokesperson for beer. Guinness had a saying, “Guinness is good for you”, so if one pint is good, imagine what “two-can” do! And third, I learned how to pour the perfect pint of Guinness out of a tap, and was given a certificate to prove it. There is a technique to it, and after learning it, I feel I’m well on my way to becoming a bar tender…or not.
John and I hung out there for a while just taking our time, which in the end would have been a lot better than going on a tour, where I would have been rushed through the place and wouldn’t have enjoyed it nearly as much. So after ample time spent, we left to make our way back towards the main street of the city that we’d missed earlier in the day, planning on stopping at the first bar we found that started with an “O”. We grabbed a Cornish pastry on the way, which was quite good, and just kind of walked through the city. The main street was nothing but shopping, so that didn’t interest us too much. We eventually ended up at a shopping mall where John could by an infant sized shirt for his granddaughter, and where I used my phone to get online. For whatever reason, this shopping center had signs everywhere advertising its free WiFi, yet they made you pay to use their bathrooms…I guess that’s just Ireland for you.
We eventually started running out of time, and after somehow avoiding every bar that started with an “O”, we returned to the shuttle without ever stopping for another drink. But after the amount of walking we did and our upcoming show that night, we didn’t mind, happily returned to the ship with a good feeling for the city, and finished out the night as usual. It was a nice day and nice to be back in Ireland after about 3 years elsewhere in the world. Thanks for reading, your next pint of Guinness is on me!
At Sea
April 12th
At Sea
Just a sea day on our way to Dublin. In regards to the singer situation, the guy who had to leave due to the death in his family was in fact fired, which is too bad because the entire cast supported his decision and he did his best to handle everything responsibly, the ship simply said no. And then by leaving in spite of the decision made by the company, they just wouldn’t stand for it. It’s ridiculous though that these things can’t be avoided, which would take little more than some paperwork from the company. Instead, they now have more paperwork, have to find a replacement, have to train the replacement, and have to inconvenience the entire cast on the ship for their last couple months aboard. The other singer who was late to the ship has not been fired, so she’ll be meeting up with us in Dublin.
At Sea
Just a sea day on our way to Dublin. In regards to the singer situation, the guy who had to leave due to the death in his family was in fact fired, which is too bad because the entire cast supported his decision and he did his best to handle everything responsibly, the ship simply said no. And then by leaving in spite of the decision made by the company, they just wouldn’t stand for it. It’s ridiculous though that these things can’t be avoided, which would take little more than some paperwork from the company. Instead, they now have more paperwork, have to find a replacement, have to train the replacement, and have to inconvenience the entire cast on the ship for their last couple months aboard. The other singer who was late to the ship has not been fired, so she’ll be meeting up with us in Dublin.
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