Amsterdamage

Just back from a couple of nights in Amsterdam with Jon, one of our regular jaunts to mainland Europe in pursuit of Suicidal Tendencies. Still far too tired to write at length (or vaguely coherently) so here are the edited highlights:

• Had our photo taken with tourists something like fifteen times. We were kilted up and it seems this is something of a novelty in the ‘Dam…
• Ate an enormous pile of spare ribs at the Cafe De Klos (my favourite eatery in the world) on the first night then went back and had a 650g chunk of t-bone steak. So full of red meat, bread and potatoes I think my digestive tract wants to run away.
• Had a conversation with a Bostonian beggar who claimed to have killed a man who raped kids. He was surprisingly chirpy considering and he showed us a garden gnome-shaped buttplug in a shop window (called the Ass Midget) so we gave him cash.
• Had our Scots egos massaged by countless tales of how cool and well-behaved the Scotland fans were when they invaded Amsterdam for a footie match a couple of months previously.
• Fell in love with a girl on the tour in the Heineken brewery. She told us how they made Heineken but to be honest I can’t remember a word she said, just the sound of her voice and frankly unreasonable beauty. Blonde Heineken lady is going to live in my dreams for a long, long time.

The crowning glory though came when we hit the gig last night. The support act was a genius French duo called The Inspector Cluzo who had also supported Suicidal when we saw them in Paris last year. As soon as they hit the stage Jon and I were front and centre, rocking out like spastics in our kilts but for some reason the rest of the crowd was hanging back in the hall, standing stock still and just clapping politely after the songs. This did not go down well with the Cluzo, oh no – they tried exhorting the crowd to come forward but precious few paid any heed.

All of a sudden Malcolm the singer/guitarist stopped in the middle of their classic “Fuck The Bass Player” (Cluzo are just drums and guitar), pointed right at Jon and I and said the magic words “You two, get up on the stage right now!”. What??? Seriously??? We didn’t need a second invitation and leapt up there in record time to general bemusement from the crowd. After Malcolm confirmed that we were friends because the French and Scottish both hate the English we got down to business – singing backing vocals for them. I shit you not. Jon and I onstage with the Cluzo, kilted up and screaming “Fuck the bass player!” at the tops of our lungs. Best. Fun. Ever.

It really happened! Me and Jon kilted out and rocking with The Inspector Cluzo in the Melkweg

And even better, it means that technically we’ve now supported Suicidal Tendencies. Living the dream…

(By the way, Suicidal blasted through their most amazing set yet, and we’ve seen them in Blackpool, Glasgow, Brussels, Milan and Paris before now. They even pulled Facist Pig and I Shot Reagan out of the bag, sheer godlike majesty)

Me with Phil Jourdain, drummer of The Inspector Cluzo and all-round nice guy

Good days, bad days (Part 2)

Well I left the last post on something of a downer, and now it’s time to remedy that.  You see, Friday was a Good Day and it has paved the way for many Good Days to come.

On Friday the sale of the flat was finally completed, eleven months of nail-biting, tortuous waiting finally came to a close and the last tie between me and the ex has been severed. I think they call it ‘closure’ in the land of Ally McBeal. On top of that a massive sum of money has winged its way into my bank account and has opened all kinds of doors for me. By massive I don’t mean like an MP’s salary or anything like that – in fact the total sum was  just £1000 more than I invested in the flat three and a half years ago – kick in the teeth or what?  But it’s certainly enough for me to kick back and do some Good Things for a change.

First on the list – it’s holiday time. I honestly can’t remember the last time I had a holiday aside from visiting the ex-in-laws up in Gamrie so it’s time to go overboard and spoil myself a bit. First up is a three day trip to Amsterdam to see Suicidal Tendencies with Jon. We both thought we were going to miss their tour this year, which would have been gutting as we’ve previously travelled to Brussels, Paris and Milan to catch them – it’s simply the most entertainingly violent show you can see. So it’s going to be three days of kilts, beer, food at the Klos and insane metal (no pot though, a previous Amsterdam trip involving hallucinations of hedgehog terrorists put me off it for life…)

A day after I return it’ll be time to head to the continent yet again for th3e Nova Rock festival in Austria. There’s a bunch of us heading out, mostly just to see the newly-reformed Faith No More, but also enjoying the added bonuses of the likes of Nine Inch Nails, Gogol Bordello and Placebo. Never been to Austria before and I’m going to be mighty disappointed if I’m not faced with the finest sausages known to man.

When I get back from that trip I’ll have a mere four days left at my current job before jetting off to Thailand with Marty for two weeks of Muay Thai training and a week afterwards to lie on a beach and lick our wounds. Unfortunately my shoulder and ribs still haven’t fully healed so I’ve done no Muay Thai and very little in the way of weights for nigh-on two months. I’d hoped to be in peak  fitness for this but it’s fated not to be – no worries though, I’ll happily sit out the afternoon sessions and watch Marty get pummelled instead

After that I’ll have a couple of things to sort out – one being a tenant for the flat which I’ll hopefully own by then. I may not have made much money on the old place but at least it means I can buy low as well and hopefully claw some back a few years down the line. I’ll also need to arrange a travel visa for the final part of the globe-trotting extravaganza…

But in the middle of all that there’s another trip lined up. Doc and I had planned to cycle from John O’ Groats down to Edinburgh but instead we’ve decided to head to Belgium and do a brewery tour along the canal networks, also taking in the Festival Of 100 Beers (as mentioned in a previous post). As fate would have it, my physio is from Belgium and has recommended a few good places too check out while we’re over there.

And finally we reach the end – I’ll be upping sticks and heading out of the country long term to finally put my TEFL training to some use. At the moment the destination of choice is Japan, with Thailand a very close second. I hear that the competition for jobs in Japan is pretty fierce so I’m under no illusions that it’ll be easy but I have age and experience on my side, not to mention the fact that this is something I want to do long-term rather than just being a kid on a gap year before starting Uni. It should be a little easier in Thailand and I’ve already started arranging meeting with potential employers while I’m over on holiday, but the lure of the Japanese salary and frankly insane culture is just too much right now.

So that’s what happens when I have a Good Day. I’m all too aware that the more plans you have – and the more complex and ambitious they are – the more likely things are to go wrong. But hell with it, I’m done worrying. I’m off for a meal with 14 good friends to celebrate the sale of the flat, followed by some beers on the beach and probably a new layer of sunburn to add to yesterday’s.

Yay for Good Days.