Stories from the road - accommodation

Subject: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Anne Lister
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 02:55 AM

So, picking up on the disastrous gigs thread, this is in similar vein. We all know that in our line of work we're often offered accommodation with club/venue organisers, so I'm curious to hear some of the tales of what has happened.
My own, as hinted at in the gigs thread, was memorable. I don't know if my hostess that night is a Mudcatter but I hope not, for reasons which will become obvious!
I was asked to do a gig for Beltane in Washington DC, and initially planned to have this as part of a tour. However, family circumstances meant I couldn't do that, but could make it a long weekend trip, and managed to get a Borders gig to go with the Beltane event. Money was going to be tight, but I felt that I couldn't let the concert organiser down having agreed to the gig some months before. Friends offered me accommodation after the Borders event but the woman hosting the Beltane concert said she would put me up for both nights, and came to meet me (with some friends) to bring me to her home. First moment: took us all to eat at a restaurant and ordered a selection of dishes to suit all our dietary preferences - she was the only one who could eat everything. The bill, of course, was split equally between us but she had all the leftovers (and there were plenty) to take home. Back at her house I was shown a futon in a sitting room, complete with flannel sheets. I should explain at this point that it was very hot and humid, no air con, and as the futon was in full view of whoever came in and out I felt obliged to wear my nightdress (which was still winter weight as I'd come from a chilly London). I was jetlagged, sleepless, hot and sweaty but had just dropped off to sleep when in came one of my hostess's house mates, complete with partner, put on all the lights, apologised when she saw me, and then continued to her adjoining room where they had the television on at full volume for several hours (it seemed). Again, sleepless, hot and getting a little tetchy I finally dropped off to sleep at about 7 am, to be woken at 8 am by a male voice talking on the telephone right by my ear. I opened my eyes to find a strange vision of a bald-headed chap busy arranging a day's work on the phone - he was apologetic when he saw me (apparently hadn't seen me until then) and introduced himself with a female name. That was pretty much it for sleep, so I headed to the extremely dirty bathroom to get showered and dressed. The morning progressed and eventually my hostess joined us, explaining that the mysterious bald headed chap was actually a trans-sexual Tibetan nun, and then bending my ear for a long time over her own tales of her life but eventually noticing how tired I was. At this stage she said I should use her room for a bit more sleep - her room was neat, tidy and with an immaculate bathroom attached and I found myself thinking that if I had offered a bed to someone who had flown 3,000 miles for a concert I would have given up my own room. But there we are.
The concert was a disaster in its own right, as the pagan community who were the target market had all headed out of town for a camp that weekend, so the performers and sound guys outnumbered the audience by a factor of 3 to 1, and the money I was consequently offered as a fee wouldn't have covered my cab fare from the airport. Luckily, however, most of the other performers were good friends of mine and were generous enough to give me some of their own fee money as well as whisk me out of there for somewhere else to sleep. Still a sofa in a sitting room but private, cool and uninterrupted.

Anne

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: GUEST,Suffolk Miracle
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 03:57 AM

From the other side of the fence, a friend of mine, a keen keeper of pet birds, once put up a well-known folk singer. The said WKFS had to leave early next morning so the KKPB told him to help himself to anything he wanted for breakfast. Next thing he heard was a phone call from WKFS thanking him for putting him up and for the muesli he had taken for breakfast. This was something of a surprise since he knew he had no muesli. But the mystery was solved when he found that the contents of his jar of Trill were much reduced.

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Saro
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 04:09 AM

Hmmm - I've heard that story about the bird seed for breakfast told about several WKFSs. Is it perhaps an urban folk myth? And perhaps that's another thread...
Saro

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Anne Lister
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 12:07 PM

Yes, I've heard the same story a few times, too .... but is it only me that's had a tough time with accommodation? Surely not!

Anne

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: GUEST,RWM
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 01:58 PM

Two tales... one good, one not so..

The Not So: Playing at a Scottish Fest in MD, having played at Colonial Williamsburg the night before (who knew it was that long of a drive). This was a few years back when "The Promisekeepers" had their convention thingy in Wash. DC, and every hotel was booked full for 100 miles around. (Promisekeepers was some sort of huge religious group in the 90s). I get to the festival, meet the man in charge, he tells me " We have you booked at the Red Apple (or some such name) for the night, it was the only place availabe so BOYYYyyyy were you lucky. His friend goes " Um.. do you know about the Red Apple?" "What...". They didn't bother to tell me it was the local House Of Ill Fame for truckers. A bar with a few rooms behind, no office ( that was the bar) no desk, no clerk. It was one room with a bare light bulb hanging on a string... something resembling a bed that had the rare ability to take off the cover by itself ( it just sort of slithered off all on its own). The topper was the bathroom, that had a hole punched in the tile wall clean through to the NEXT bathroom so you could pass the soap back and forth I guess. Err.. soap.. right.... My wife tried to call the place in the morning to make sure I was up in time, but .. there was no phone listing. Didn't matter.. I had slept in the truck.

The Good: Neatest little festival I ever was at... West Martinsburg NY. This anestheiologist likes Irish music so he holds a festival in his back yard ( I think I told this story before, so I won't rehash).I am doing my historical thing in the 1840s chursch, while the 'stage' is host to Brian Conway, Jerry O'Sullivan and Tony Cuffe. It was an amazing day. So.. everyone gets to stay with a local for the night. I am to go off with the town realtor, but first we have to stop by the family graduation party. So there I am, knowing no one, at a huge BBQ in someone's back yard chatting with all the relatives and enjoying a terrific little feast. Time to go... we head off to his big old rambling house. Turns out one of the kids is sick, so we can't keep you here.. you might get ill. So we go to his mother's house, and she puts me up in the basement apartment in her place. Evidently while her hubby was still alive they rented it out.. but since his passing she has been by herself. In the morning she cooked this enormous breakfast, had some tea.. it was just amazing all around. I have never encountered such open and generous people again.. it was one of the best weekends I had in my whole long playing life.

Robert

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: The Sandman
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 02:26 PM

The Story about the Swoop.it is not an urban myth.
I was playing at York[Black Swan folk club],and staying at Judith Morrisons house,she was at that time living with Gerry Hallom,GerryHallom was away gigging.
we returned from the club,and being rather tired I didnt pay attention when she was talking ,she said I have to go out in the morning, but help yourself to breakfast etc.
When I awoke the next morning[Iam not someone who is at their best in the mornings],I surfaced around and found some milk in the fridge.
I had noticed that my Australian hosts,had Vegemite instead of Marmite,so I didnt think much about it,when I found an unmarked bag of muesli, and tipped it into my milk.,
it seemed alittle different but I got it down.When Judith returned from work she sked me if I had had a good day,and had Ifound the breakfast things ok.
yes I replied Ifound the milk and I had some of your Australian Meusli.What?
yes I replied,showing her the packet
she said Thats not Australian muesli,thats Swoop.
I have been singing like a linnet since.Captain Birdseed. Dick Miles

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: GUEST,Simplex
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 03:13 PM

Is Dick Miles a WKF?

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Anne Lister
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 03:51 PM

That's great, Dick, but I'd heard the story told of at least two other WKFs! So maybe you were the point of origin and it was attached to others? Or maybe (this is scary) it just keeps happening?

Anne

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: The Sandman
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 04:13 PM

If anyone cares to contact ,Gerry Hallom or Jez Lowe,they will verify it,It has only happened once.I would say the year was 1984.

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Rasener
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 04:59 PM

Well as i have Jez at faldingworth this Saturday, I will ask him :-)

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: treewind
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 05:06 PM

I remember Jacey Bedford posting this to uk.music.folk, and with some help from Google I've found it again:

I know one performer who used to have a clause in her contract that said something like:

Accommodation: For the purposes of this contract a bed means a piece of furniture, designed for a human being to sleep on raised off the floor with a sprung mattress, clean sheets, adequate blankets or a quilt; in a room with four walls, a window and a door that closes. In the winter there should be adequate heating. There should be no other people or creatures sharing that same said room containing same said bed.

Anahata

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Rasener
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 05:24 PM

And if it was your wife Anahata, couldn't she share the bed :-)

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: treewind
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 05:30 PM

¿que?

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: The Sandman
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 05:31 PM

Just before I left England in 1990.
I decided to put an end to these accomodation problems.
I bought myself a camper van,with a cooker etc,it meant I could fix up a tour,if there was a day missing ,I could be on my own when I wanted to etc.
I also got a CB Radio,so I could get Channel 19[the truckers channel]so I could avoid any motorway hold ups.
Generally speaking, I have found accomodation ok at clubs.
The camper van gave me independence.

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Anne Lister
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 05:39 PM

Dick, I'm not doubting that it happened to you - what intrigues me is that I've heard the story attached to at least two other performers, each time told as true. So either it's something that happens often to performers (which is what I find scary), or it started with you and then people started blurring the details, or ...?

Anne

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: The Sandman
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 06:24 PM

well,its like Chinese whispers,I would say,the details,have become blurred after 23 years.
I had an email conversation with Jez Lowe about a week ago ,and we were reminiscing about old times,and he said that he had heard the story in New Zealand,and someone had related the story with Martin Carthy as the bird food eater.
The Villan will update us when he sees Jez.
This sort of thing doesnt happen twice or thrice.

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Phil Cooper
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 11:32 PM

Margaret and I have had bad housing accomodations maybe four times in 25 years. But they are great story fodder. There was the communal hosuehold where everyone, but the person who's room was on the floor we stayed on, wanted to have us. She was separated from her husband and I think didn't want me there. I found a pin in my washcloth. We spent a lot of time out of the house exploring the city we were in.

Another time a folk society offered to put us up and drive us to our weekend gigs (we had to fly). The organizer was moving and couldn't put us up. She found an alternate site with a man who seemed to zero in one hot button issues (like getting to the gigs in a timely fashion) and then kept pushing the buttons. That situation could have been avoided if we had taken them up on the housing offer and rented our own car. Ah, hindsight.

I've gotten to telling societies that book us, that if someone really doesn't want to put us up, to please say so, and we'll pop for a motel room. Usually we have been treated very well and have made longtime friends with some of the people who have put us up.

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Seamus Kennedy
Date: 06 Feb 08 - 11:36 PM

Back in the '70's,when I was in the Beggarmen, my partner Tom O'Carroll and I were staying with a wonderful friend in Washington DC.
He was exceedingly generous with his comfortable home, his food and drink, and along with his friendly dog Darlin' we had the run of the place.

By the way, he also had excellent taste in food and drink.

After the gig each night, we'd come back with a couple of sixpacks, and we'd sit, have a few beers and shoot the breeze with him for a while; and maybe play a few tunes.

Then he would retire for the night. Tom and I watched TV and had a few snacks, a few more beers and head off to bed ourselves.

One night after he had gone to bed, we opened a couple of Anchor Steams (I told you he had good taste), some nice crispbread crackers, and looked in the fridge for something to put on the crackers.

To our delight, there was a plate with some country paté.

We spread it on the crackers, and munched and drank happily until it was all gone. So we hit the hay.

The following morning he asked, "Do you guys know what happened to Darlin's dogfood?"


Seamus

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Leadfingers
Date: 07 Feb 08 - 04:38 AM

The Accomodation for my Hong Kong booking was a room with a narrow single bed anda miniscule shower/toilet en suite , with a window onto a ventilation shaft . I swear I didnt see daylight for a fortnight , at which point I got the money for the room and found a place for myself .

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: The Sandman
Date: 07 Feb 08 - 06:43 AM

SEAMUS,I believe you have a book for sale with some of these stories.

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: billybob
Date: 07 Feb 08 - 10:54 AM

The Amazing Mr Smith has a chapter on accomodation in his (published) Diary of gigs over the years,( brilliant read)they are all hilarious and also true!He has stayed with us many times and I was very relieved to find we are not mentioned in the book!

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Seamus Kennedy
Date: 07 Feb 08 - 11:22 AM

Captain Birdseye, thank you for the gentle plug.

I do indeed. Written along with Robbie O'Connell, Dennis O'Rourke, Harry O'Donoghue and Frank Emerson, it's a collection of stories (the one I told above is not in the book) about our 35 years of performing on the road. All true, I swear to God.
It's called 'Clean Cabbage In The Bucket', and it cna be ordered from my website,
www.seamus-kennedy.com
Thanks again, Cap'n. Hope to see you in Ireland in November.




Seamus

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Seamus Kennedy
Date: 07 Feb 08 - 11:23 AM

By the way Mudcatters, the post above was my very first ever blue clicky. A milestone.

Seamus

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: treewind
Date: 07 Feb 08 - 02:03 PM

It's blue but it doesn't work. You left out the "http://" as in:
<a href="http://www.seamus-kennedy.com">etc.

www.seamus-kennedy.com is the correct link.

Anahata

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: GUEST,cobra
Date: 07 Feb 08 - 02:36 PM

I have had the pleasure of reading Seamus's book and I can heartily recommend. It is a thoroughly entertaining read. And, more to the point, based on the bits of it and the people involved who were/ are known to me, it is a marvellous testament to Mr Kennedy's memory! He has managed to curb his natural inclination towards the fantastical and, in the main stick to the facts. Highly recommended.

Now, my own on-the-road accommodation story. It was a dark night, I was on my way from Campbeltown to Bute and my van broke down in the middle of nowhere. About a mile off the road I saw the welcoming glow of a lighted window. Braving the storm, I made my way towards the light, knocked on the door and waited.

Eventually a tall, strapping farmer came to the door, listened to my tale of woe and offered me a bed for the night. Only problem was he explained that he had three young daughters and I would have to share a room with one of them.... Thing is, when I get to this stage in the yarn, some wise guy always tells me he has heard it before....

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Fidjit
Date: 07 Feb 08 - 03:22 PM

Ah sleep. Perchance to dream.

Whilst I was doing my stint as a Stallion at Minehead butlins, in the late 60's. I would head off for some folk clubs on my day/night off. There was always Minehead Folkclub, but I ventured further afield too.

Once at Taunton it was late and I'd no chance of getting back to Minehead, so the publican offered me a bed in the tower room.

The Tower room turned out to be the clock tower and yes it did strike every hour and every bloody half hour all night!! And when you're that close to it. Well!!

Another time I got to crash on some guys floor in his front room. No settee, just a carpet on the floor.

It was cold that night. I remember waking up at, I don't know when. Looking for something to keep me warm. I decided that the velvet curtains would be better on me than up at the window.

Bloke went bonkers when he came in next morning. We parted friends though.

Oh how I have suffered for my art.

Chas

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Folkiedave
Date: 07 Feb 08 - 04:30 PM

When the BBC covered folk music they had a series of these. The one I remember is from Mike Harding which though not precisely about accommodation fits into this well.

Whitby Folk Festival and Mike is staying out at a farm and the place is famous for its breakfast. The Full Monty. So one morning just before breakfast Mike is asked to hold a calf. He holds its head through the fence and the farmer castrates the animal. When Mike gets back to the kitchen - there cooking in the pan is an addition to the breakfast, that which a few moments earlier had been attached to an animal.

Round sliced, fresh and being fried.

Dave

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Seamus Kennedy
Date: 07 Feb 08 - 08:20 PM

Anahata - I'm crushed! I thought I'd done it...whimper.
Thanks for correcting it though.

Cobra, I haven't heard it. Please finish; please, please.
(Thanks for the kind words, too).

Fidjit, if you'd slept under the carpet, he wouldn't have been mad.
Everybody knows the curtains are for drying off after your shower.

Folkiedave, calf's balls for breakfast, mmmm, good!
Beats Shredded Wheat.

Seamus (never doing a blue clicky again)

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Jim Carroll
Date: 08 Feb 08 - 03:03 AM

This is a (slightly off-topic) story we recorded from Kerry Traveller Mikeen McCarthy.

M. Mc. Well there's a chap at home now, Christie Dunn is his name. So he goes from town to town to get his living by playing a fiddle like, street musicianer.   So he goes into a town anyway, Arthlage, Arthlage Fair was the name of it, and 'twas a terrible wet day, well it wasn't wet before he went into the town and he meant to come home early. So he stayed on in town anyway because fellers asked him to play them a tune and they'll give him a drink like and a (????) drink and he couldn't go out with the rain like, 'twas pelting the whole time,   
So eventually the pubs had to shut anyway and he made his way off home, a bicycle, he was cycling.    So he got drenched into the skin, it was right through his top coat and every bit of him.
So he was coming out of Arthlage and he was about ten miles from Arthlage at the time and 'twas about twelve o'clock at night.   
So he saw a big house at the left hand side of the road anyway and he said, "I'll go over to this house anyway", he said, "see if they'll let me in some old shed, something like that, for the night".   
So he knocked at the door and the lady came out.
"Oh", she said, "you want a night's lodgings".
"Well, that I do ma'am", he said, "or some place to lie in out of the rain", he said, "'cause I'm sopping with the rain", he said.   
"Oh, come on in", she said.
So she brought him in and she called him down the room anyway, and there was a big bed below in the room and a big fire lightin, talk about….. 'twas fit for a king to turn out now.    Takes off all his clothes, top-coat, short-coat, trousers, every bit of them, and in to bed and slept away like a trooper.   
But he wakes up in the morning and all that was there was the cowls on a house, nothing else, and all his clothes was bone dry and every bit of him, as dry as powder.    The old remains of an old house, that was there, that's all, nobody lived in it for years and years.
He got an awful shock anyway like, he gets on his bike and he keeps going until he got to the next farm across the road from that, a house.   
And he told the man of the farm what happened.   
"Yerra", he said, "you must be raving", he said, "because nobody lives in that house for seventy years or more", said he.   
But the man gave him a cup of tea anyway and he said, "if I was you now in the state you're in and the shock you're in, he said, I'd go down to the priest below in the village some village now that was down from that again.    So he goes down and he tells his story to the priest anyway, I mean he was in desperate shock like, and he told the priest what happened.   
"Well", says the priest, "don't ever go that road again now", he said, "and try and get it out of your mind", he said, and he done all he could for him like.   
"And if you have to go that road", he said, "don't ever again look at the right hand side of the road", says he.   
So he didn't do any good for a couple of years after that.   
He told me that yarn himself', yeah.

Jim Carroll

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Brendy
Date: 08 Feb 08 - 04:12 AM

The Band Apartment at Paddy Go Easy, Århus, Denmark (definitely not 'The Palace' ... to those who know where I'm talking about...), will have three chapters devoted to it, when the book on the European Irish Pub Circuit eventually gets written.

The apartment doubled as a 'half-way-house' for Irish barstaff who were 'looking for another flat at the minute, actually'; Irish Barstaff-speak for 'My girlfriend kicked me out very suddenly'.
Considering 'Paddy's' had about 13-14 full-time employees, and also noting that the definition of homeless over here is an Irish barman (... or musician, for that matter...) without a girlfriend, the apartment was readily stocked with these cheerful chaps, just finishing, or just starting a shift.

Because these lads literally had no homes to go to, they spent the waking hours in the pub. In fairness we all did; 'Paddy's' was packed every night of the week, all year round.
And with that amount of customers knocking around, especially the female variety, barstaff just went from one side of the bar to the other when their shift changed, and the party went on.

For us musicians it was bar-stage-bar-bed-bar-stage-bar-bed for 6 weeks at a time, and if anybody tells you that you cannot get immune to the effects of Guinness if you drink enough of it..., don't believe them. I used to arrive there a week in advance of my tour, just to get myself onto that level, and I would stay a week after I finished, just to wind down again.

The part of the tour that was known as 'bed' was where it could all fall apart, and although the famed 'Palace' itself had its' moments, 'Paddy's' band apartment was much bigger, and therefore more potentially populated the later in the night..., or earlier in the morning, it got.

Invariably someone (who was new to the place) would have fallen over the only light-stand there was, and the place was often in darkness when I went up after the night was over, and I'd find myself hop-scotching over fallen heroes and empty Jameson bottles, til I found my bed, somewhere down the back.

... which normally had somebody/ies already in it at this time; Irish barstaff continuing to do what presumably left them 'looking for another flat at the minute, actually', in the first place.

They were great days, though... I lived in Norway, and only did 2 months at a time, twice a year, and went home to my own pad..., but that party went on 24/7 every day/night of the year from around 1994 to 1998.

The manager of that pub, and I, run the summer festival on the island, here.
We've been thinking of writing those 3 chapters....

B.

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: GUEST,Hosted lots of folkies...
Date: 08 Feb 08 - 08:00 AM

Who wishes to remain anonymous for obvious reasons...

For a long time in the '80s I was involved with the organisation of folk clubs, so consequently I've put up (with) a fair amount of passing folkies and their 'attachements'...

One rather large gentleman broke the bed he'd been allocated.

Another large gentleman, having a last 'visit' before leaving, leaned over on the lavatory and dislodged it from its fittings. Had he told us of this, then the ensuing deluge of nastiness shortly after he had gone might have been avoided.

One ladys' contract had dietary requirements that were so convoluted, in the end we declined to take her.

On the whole, most have acted like the kindly, courteous folk they are and I've been priviledged to attend to their needs - and as a result have managed to sleep in the same bed as Martin Carthy, Sid Kipper and Mrs Ackroyd, none of whom are the people mentioned above.

But I never fed anyone pet food. Except Mrs Ackroyd of course.

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Celtaddict
Date: 08 Feb 08 - 09:02 AM

As a Yank roaming about Ireland on my own, not a performer, I did once attend the Nenagh Singing Circle where a friend of mine was performing. I had a small rental car and usually just picked a B&B when I was ready to retire for the evening, but had not actually thought of it that night as the day had been spent getting together with my friend and his group and we had a lovely day sightseeing, nice lunch, many good tales. When the concert ended, however, the members of the group were sorted out to go home with various members of the club for the night. I prepared to leave, figuring there would be somewhere about (and I have of course been known to sleep in the car), but Mick Scanlon, the director of the club, came up to me and said, "No, no, you have come all this way, you are our guest," and he and his lovely wife took me back to their house to a very comfortable guest room, a great night's sleep, and a solid breakfast in the morning. Lovely.
Another time I drove to Maine to hear some friends from abroad at a house concert. I had figured I would find someplace there (or sleep in the car or on the beach) but arrived just in time for the start of the concert (which in fact they held up a bit as I had called to say I think I am near but do not find the house; they gave me directions) and I had to be in western Massachusetts the following late afternoon. After the concert, the hostess, who was already putting up the two performers, folded out a futon in the concert room and invited me to stay over. The next day was beautiful; she had other musicians from abroad staying as well, and we sat over breakfast/brunch and told tales and sang songs until afternoon when we all went our separate ways.
Actually as a fan I have had unplanned accommodation several times, when I had gone some distance to hear someone and someone there saved me the drive back home.
So I think the people who enjoy the music of traveling folkies are nice folks who befriend others who enjoy the same. . .

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: GUEST,has slept in strange places
Date: 08 Feb 08 - 10:15 AM

and is also remaining anonymous, also for obvious reasons....

my best (?!!) two accomodation stories from the last few years of gigging are

Story number one, the B&B (attached to a pub) which was perfectly friendly for the first two nights but the third night when we got back post gig they invited us to sit in the bar and have a drink, asked us to play (and we generally play trad english, that being what we know and enjoy) and they then berated us for not playing their favourites (Coldplay...?!) and kept on & on getting more and more aggressive even though we explained as politely as we knew how that we just didn't know the songs they were asking for. After we drank up and exited to bed, agreeing a time for breakfast with the landlady, they obviously stayed up and kept on drinking. Couple of hours later we were woken by the sounds of violent drunken arguing, much slamming and shouting. Went on for ages. 'Oh well', we thought, 'nothing we can do'. Went down for breakfast next morning and the whole place was deserted. Waited a while (quite a while) and they didn't show. No food left out and we were starving and had to get going. Ended up just leaving, posting keys through letter box and going and buying breakfast in a cafe. The festival who had booked us had already paid the pub so apart from letting them know of our experience, not much we could do. If we go to the festival again we'll definitely be requesting alternative accommodation though!

Story number two was we'd been offered accommodation from a very friendly festival organiser who, it turned out, was giving two of us her own bed. Which was very generous. Except that she came bouncing in before 8 the next morning saying 'don't mind me, I just need to get some knickers'. And then again 10 mins later to get something else. And then again 5 mins later to answer the phone (and the phone kept ringing cos it was the main number for the festival) so all in all we got up rather earlier than expected after a late night the night before :) Oh, and I definitely got the impression that the sheets we slept in were the same ones she'd been sleeping in before we got there.... Lovely friendly lady though.

Thing is, for every horror story there is somewhere absolutely delightful, with friendly hosts and fantastic food... Makes it a fun adventure not knowing what you'll end up with!

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Anne Lister
Date: 08 Feb 08 - 12:13 PM

It's funny how every time this topic comes up for discussion people are always very defensive about it - just as gigs which turn out to be disasters are infrequent so, of course, are the bad accommodation stories and I have many tales of my own of huge generosity from the club and concert organisers here, elsewhere in Europe and in the US. But there are tales to be told of where things went wrong on both sides (yes, of course, some people who stay over are not exactly ideal guests) and this thread doesn't involve or imply any criticism of any of the wonderful people who make this whole touring business possible.
We did consider creating an award for people who went out of their way to make us welcome and comfortable, and then putting together a party or some such event for them at the end of each year or two, but we were never organised enough to set this up properly.
I have other tales, but for now will just add the rather spooky story of the couple in, shall we say, the Cotswolds (trying not to be too precise here). This is from my time touring as half of Anonyma with Mary McLaughlin. The house we were welcomed into after the gig was very dusty and full of packing chests stacked up. In the hallway was a hole in the floorboards, and there was a ladder down from it into the darkness (where a dog was howling). We were taken down a long corridor to a large room in which there was a fine chaise longue, a harmonium and various other pieces of antique-style furniture. At some stage in the conversation our hostess sat at the harmonium, flicking back her long grey hair in a style reminiscent of the Adams Family as she played mournful chords for no apparent reason. She explained that normally we would be in the "Chinese Room" but she had to sleep there since she had twisted her ankle descending the ladder (we never found out why the ladder was there or where it led to). So we were to sleep in the room we sat in - and in came her partner with a sun lounger, a thin mattress, a sleeping bag, a blanket and two thin pillows. This is for two of us on a cold February night. We went to bed eventually, tossing coins for who had the mattress, who had the sleeping bag etc. In the distance we could hear owls, foxes and other eerie sounds and it was very dark. In the middle of what was left of the night I got up for the loo, which was a long thin room next door, with a door fastened with a stable latch. As I sat on the loo I noticed with a chill that the stable latch lifted up from its catch and flopped down the other side and the door creaked open ...I was unnerved, to say the least. Went back in the other room, realised Mary was clearly still awake and asked her if she'd just tried the door (hoping for a straightforward explanation). Asking her was a mistake because that just made her as spooked as I was by then. We didn't sleep much. Next morning we found a breakfast tray covered with cloth to keep off the dust and an electric kettle sitting outside the door of our room, and no sign of host and hostess.
We made a hurried departure.

Anne

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: The Sandman
Date: 08 Feb 08 - 12:42 PM

hosted lots of folkies,
Iwas never fed bird seed. Itook it by mistake.
Now here is a story,
a folksinger was on his way to a gig in the south east,he had been on the road 50 miles ,when he sees a young female hitchiker,so being a gentleman he stops and offers her a lift.turns out in conversation that the hithchiker had just split up from her boyfriend,so the folksinger say, well look I have this gig, why dont you come along.
alright bor she say, I dont mind if i dew ,so off they goo down the rood.anyway folksinger he say to organiser. I hope you dont mind I brought a friend along .
oh no, says organiser more the merrier.so anyway,he has a great gig,and goes back to organisers house with new companion.Folksinger and new friend retire to bed.
in the middle of the night there comes a rap tap tap on the window pane.Coitus Interruptus.[Ishould explain that this house had an outside fire escape,that adjoined folksingers bedroom]
Folksinger emerges from bed,startled, but still with flag at full mast,says can I help you.Oh yes says window tapper.Im the house owners boyfriend,I always come in this way.
very good says Folksinger ,how do youdo ,lets him in and goes back to bed and carrys on with new friend .
In the morning thay all sit down to their meusli and talk about the weather,and pretend nothing unusual happened, very British.

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: The Sandman
Date: 08 Feb 08 - 06:40 PM

I did a tour in Europe,and one gig in Holland after retiring to bed early,3 30am,was woken up at 4 30,by Over exuberant Dutchmen,one of them playing a bombarde,the others singing,shouting and another one drumming a drumkit.I thought I had died and gone to heaven.Dick Miles

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Geordie-Peorgie
Date: 08 Feb 08 - 07:04 PM

Aah ownly ever had one bad experience

When aah wez giggin' (aboot ten or twelve years ago) aah played a club (aah wivvent say where for obvious reasons) and stayed wi' the organiser who got to the club by bus and then came home wi' the 'guest'.

He told uz that he loved with his aged parent which wez obvious by the smell of 'pee' when we got there.

Aah wez taken ito the kitchen and asked if aah wanted a cup of tea/coffee but the state of the hob (aboot half-an-inch of grease on the top) made me decline.

Aah said aah'd gan straight up te bed and get away early in the morning as aah had aboot 300 miles te the next gig.

Aah wez shown to the bedroom and got me head doon.

Aah woke bright and early before anyone else and set off on the road hopin' to find a 'choke-and-puke' to get stop and get a bite of breakfast.

Aboot 15 minutes into the journey aah started te itch - a lot - and when aah eventually (after another hour) found a truck stop aah went into the loo and lifted up me shirt.

Aah wez covered in flea-bites - Aah decided against breakfast and phoned me mate who lived aboot 50 miles from the stop and explained my situation.

He said to caall in to his place and he met uz on the doorstep with a bin-bag, into which went aall me clothes except me keks and aah went straight up te tek a shower while he put me clothes through a wash.

Bless him he even vaccuum'd me car and me shoes while aah wez in the shower.

Strangely enough, although aah've never telt anyone this story, aah never got booked at that club again. Funny that!!!

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: GUEST,Dan
Date: 09 Feb 08 - 12:53 AM

I think my favourite funny story from the road was of the normally reserved Scottish accordian virtuoso, Jimmy Shand. At his guesthouse breakfast, he asked the host for something to spread on his dry toast. After being served with a miniscule container of honey, he remarked, "Oh, Ah see ye keep a bee!"

Subject: RE: Stories from the road - accommodation
From: Amos
Date: 09 Feb 08 - 11:33 AM

That is a cracker!!

LOL!


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