Priscilla has been concerned about the price of drink in Ireland lately. In fact, he’s been so concerned that he designed a website to keep track of how much he’s spending in the pubs. Go and take a look. You can rate bars, add comments, work out how much a round will cost - or if your favourite pub isn’t there you can add it yourself.
At the moment Cafe en Seine is the most expensive place in town - can’t say I’m surprised really.
Electric Picnic - Final Thoughts
The Good
The food - Not just a bloke in a burger van. Gourmet burgers, homemade pies, burritos, chunky chips, crepes, roast pork buns, falafels, chicken teriyaki, yum!
Secret toilets - flushable loos! With HOT water and mirrors and soap and CLEAN! Down beside the comedy tent if you missed them. We only found them on Saturday night.
The music - too much choice!
Body and Soul - what a fantastic area
The Atmosphere - chilled and friendly and safe. Lots of people wandering by themselves to various gigs, but no-one was really alone if you know what I mean. People didn’t look askance at you if you started a conversation or butted in to theirs. Lots of chatting with random strangers.
The bad
Toilets - the porta-loos in the festival area were only pumped out ONCE a day. By 6pm they were mingin’. As for the ‘troughs’ in the campsites they were virtually unusable for the entire weekend. There isn’t a word to describe how disgusting they were. This REALLY needs to be sorted out for next year.
Parking lot - traffic control after the festival was awful. There were only two tractors available to pull people out of the mud and everyone was being directed to ONE exit. Resulted in people sitting in cars for 2 or 3 hours not moving an inch. We heard of another exit that was ‘quagmire’ but took the chance and made it out to the main road in 2 hours.
Stewards - Not sure what happened, but the stewards were only given maps of the layout the night before electric picnic. Half the time you asked them something they apologised and were unable to provide any info. Would appear that organization and planning fell down somewhere along the way.
Rain - although we got lucky and it only rained the once. But that was enough as it BELTED down. I’d imagine a lot of people who had camped in the lower areas of fields ended up in their cars that night as there were a few tents that appeared to be floating.
But I don’t want to leave it on a bad note. Electric Picnic is a great festival, the bad things are all down to planning (except the rain) and if they fix it for next year it’ll be even better. I had such a fantastic time. There is stuff there for everyone, lots of music, lots of shows. Lots of places to chill out, or dance your socks off, or drink cocktails, or smoke from a hookah, or knit, or get a massage, or play dress-up, or take a yoga class, or learn the charleston, or watch a burlesque show, or make a yurt, or, or, or…
Electric Picnic - Part the Second
So some of you are thinking ‘Jeez, she missed LOADS of bands that I would have gone to see.’ And yeah you’re right, not only did I miss(catch) a lot of music there was also LOTS of performance art and other things going on - again this list is in vaguely chronological order.
Strange Fruit - ‘Spheres’ @ The o2 Blueroom. THIS was amazing, balanced on 4 metre poles above huge paper spheres lit from underneath they swayed and bent and literally flew. Actually just go here and watch the promo video for an explanation.
Silent Disco - silent disco tent. Two DJ’s, a pair of headphones and two channels to flick between. The only sound from outside was the crowd singing along.
Disco Fiasco - The Village Green. Possibly the worst disco I have ever been at and its deliberately done like that. Loads of fun.
Lost Vagueness - The Asylum. Some familiar faces from the Tassel Club here (Sarah and Miss Epiphany) and some just weird acts. We watched a guy dance on broken glass. The Asylum itself is as the name says. Furnished with hospital beds, medical chairs and other pieces of ‘equipment’ - the ketamine simulator proved of especial interest to some of our party. At different times people in doctors and nurses outfits would abduct people from the dancefloor, tie them to a bed, stick a leather strop in their mouth and whip them. Normally you’d have to pay for treatment like that.
Lucent Dossier - Dolab stage in Body and Soul. Burlesque ballet set on a pirate ship by men and women dressed like (dead) extras from Pirates of the Carribean. Stage was set in about 5 inches of water, I assume it was warm as the nights were cold. We went to the 2.30am show. Utterly fabulous stuff.
Lovely Girls\Lads competition - The Village Hall. Just like Father Ted. Lovely girls, Lovely lads, Lovely Garda, Hunky Priest, Nosy Nun, etc. The villagers were great, they stayed in character for the entire weekend.
The Carnival - They had CHAIROPLANES! I hadn’t been on them since I was 12. Sooo much fun. Also an old style carousel where we met a couple of bananas.
Tower of Truth - this was supposed to be burnt at 12am. However the gards moved the barrier out for safety and it was delayed till 2am - the rain started at 1.50am.
The tower once it was eventually lit took about 45 minutes to burn and fall, we were soaked through by the end of it despite my poncho.
Once again I haven’t mentioned lots of stuff: the Chai bar where we were too late to get a hookah and smoke some shisha. Chilling on a bed in Bollywood. Knitting with some of the Gin Lady’s friends in the Zen Garden. Drinks in the SoCo bar and the wee Mardi Gras parade (I’ve got enough strings of golden beads to make a half decent Mr T costume.) Bacardi and cranberry in the sun at the Bacardi B Bar. Many, many, many pints of Heineken. Swinging in the hammocks in Body and Soul, watching the waterfall in the Dingly Dell, drinking Miz Rabbits champagne bought for 15 quid in Tarts&Tease, Y’s vodka with the weird twig\herb in it, swigging wine from a milk jug…
Electric Picnic - Part the First
I’m going to have to do this in a few parts. I’ll start with the gigs anyway, links where I can find them. So chronologically beginning with Friday:
Christy Moore - Crawdaddy. Absolutely jammed. Couldn’t even get in to the tent, listened from outside. He should’ve been a main stage act, or at least Electric Arena.
The Presets - Cosby tent. EXCELLENT set. The tent was jammed and lots of energy. Myself and the barfly danced our socks off.
Goldfrapp - Main Stage. Good crowd, pretty good gig, Previous gig I’d been to (in TBMC) had been their first ever and she basically just sang ‘Velvet Mountain’ - nice to see her engage with the crowd this time round.
Digitalism - Electric arena. Loud and bangin’ German electronica.
Sigur ros - Main Stage. Have seen SR almost every time they’ve played Dublin, so nothing new here. Others rated it great, I thought it was ok.
Saturday
Liam O’Miaonlai - Main stage. We were too knackered and hungover to venture any further, so sat down for a bit when Liam came onstage. He was lost here by himself, lot of world music type stuff - only really came alive when he was joined on the last song by the Discovery Gospel choir and Ronan O’Snodaigh to sing ‘Bright sunshiny day’. Should’ve been swapped with Christy Moore.
Midnight Juggernauts - Electric Arena. AWESOME. These guys look like rockers, play electro-synth and sing like angels. The drummer is a total madman, the two lads in front switched from guitar to synth to guitar to ‘nother guitar sometimes all in the same song.
The Kills - Crawdaddy. Angry chick on stage with shoegazy type bloke on guitar. She reminded me a bit of Juliet and the Licks mixed with Chrissie Hynde. Only stayed for a few songs.
Duffy - Main stage. Not really my cuppa. Was walking past so stopped for a listen. I only really know her big single, the crowd seemed to be enjoying it though.
Elbow - Electric Arena. THIS WAS EXCELLENT. A lot of people around me hadn’t heard them before and thought it a bit mellow, but its what he does. LOVED it, they finished with ‘One Day Like Today’ (what else COULD they finish with eh? Just have a listen to it and tell me it doesn’t put a smile on your face.) Bumped into my workmate at this one - his comment ‘Didn’t know if it was you, but saw hands clapping in front of me and recognised your rings.’
cut copy - Cosby. Oh dear, I can’t even remember this gig. Their album is good though and I know I was looking forward to seeing them.
Milosh - Body and Soul arena. Very laid back tunes, sweet voice, nice to chill out to.
Donal Dineen \ David Kitt - Body and Soul arena. WHEN did David Kitt decide he was the new Orbital. ‘This ones got a groove’ he says. Seemed to be trying to ‘rock out’ a few times, which was a bit cringey as well. Brought his baby bro up on stage to sing - apparently they are in a new band together.
Pete Bennet and The Love Dogs - The Asylum. Yes that’s right - the bloke from Big Brother with tourettes. He came onstage in a wheelchair tied in a straightjacket and wearing a tutu. Not bad tunes, had a decent crowd and got them going. The Asylum was great, I’ll talk about it more in next post.
unknown band - The Time Machine. No idea who these guys were but they were great. Lead singer was dressed like a dead undertaker, and sang like Tom Waits. Lots of girls in the crowd dressed in a similar fashion with pale faces. They did an amazing version of Tom Waits ‘Way Down in the Hole’. (Also the theme to The Wire) Edit - thanks to the guys for commenting the band was ‘Johnny Cage and the Voodoo Groove‘.
Helios Jive - Dolab stage in Body and Soul. Don’t remember much except dancing to keep warm.
Sunday
Sinead O’Connor - Electric Arena. Very mellow with signature wailing. Didn’t stay too long - the high notes irritated my hangover.
Michael Franti - Main Stage. Absolutely AMAZING. The Roots showed up on stage at one point to sing along. I completely buggered my knee at this one with all the ‘I wanna see everyone jumping’. The barfly complained as he played all his new stuff, I thought it was great. Miz Rabbit (who I met later) went to see him play the body and soul stage later in the evening as well and said she thought his main stage appearance was better. Joined on the last track ‘Say Hey’ by the Lucent Dossier dancers. Magic.
The Roots - Main Stage. Good stuff.
Grinderman - Electric Arena. Nick Cave (and some of the Seeds) new project. Everyone raved about it, but didn’t rate this myself, could just be the mood I was in by then (knee was aching.) Love Nick and the boys but wasn’t taken by this at all.
My Bloody Valentine - Electric Arena. O Mi GAWD! 16 years I’ve waited to see them play. Someone told me the gig was louder than a jet taking off. I was right at the front. 18 minutes of pure noise on the last song (I timed it.) Came out completely deaf, and with knees completely gone (after jumping at Michael Franti the shoegazing just finished me) but THRILLED. Met blather with his camera (some of his photos here.) Too noisy to even speak to each other.
Sex Pistols - Main Stage. Unfortunate enough to be eating on the hill above the main stage so heard the vitriol and spew from wanker onstage. Thankfully still partially deaf so didn’t have to hear too much. Odd choice for headlining gig at a festival like EP where everyone is chilled and friendly.
So that was the gigs - at least those I remember. There was lots of other stuff I stood outside the tent for a song or two on my way to another gig that aren’t included here: Cathy Davey, Gemma Hayes, Get Cape Wear Cape, Dan Deacon, Turin Brakes, Wilco, Jape, Grace Jones, etc. And FAR too much that I missed.
@ Whelans the Village.
The email was terse as usual. It was an order, not a request.
‘Mick Harvey @ Whelans tonight.
The Barfly is back!’
It had been a while since I’d seen the oul souse, so I agreed to meet him at the bar. He was propped up in the window leering at the passersby.
‘Get down outta that, or the manager will be over to bar us for scaring off his customers.’
As it happened it didn’t much matter, the place was empty - a building site actually. The gig was moved next door to the Village.
‘Sure we’ve plenty of time, lets have another beer.’
I needed beer, the last time I was in the Village I’d been to see Warren Ellis - another of the Bad Seeds - with the Gurrier and his troops. The venue still held bad memories for me, images of the Gin Lady mixing cocktails, and that thing hidden in the Bastard Kesey’s trousers. I shuddered and kept drinking.
By the time we managed to crawl upstairs it was standing room only.
‘Ya fuck.’
I got more beers in and the Barfly disappeared into the dark shadows. Fucker was always doing that, leaving me standing with two pints. A familiar shape loomed in front of me. Blather and his missus, figured they’d be here. It was exactly the sort of seedy shithole they liked.
Blather was babbling, I couldn’t make out what he was saying. Snatches of sound from his lips ‘Fortean…’ then ‘Apocalypse’ and finally ‘Paddy Casey’. This last with tears in his eyes.
‘What about Paddy Casey?’ I ventured.
‘He gives me a pain in the bollix.’
‘Ahhh, Um.’
I turned away for a bit, waiting for him to leave of his own accord - grown men shouldn’t cry over half-rate singers. On stage there was a girl with a guitar.
‘Christ, not another one.’
But then she started singing and we all fell in love with her a little bit.
‘Fuck me’ said the Barfly who had appeared at my shoulder.
‘No thanks’ I replied.
‘No, I mean her, she’s fucking AMAAAAAZING.’ His eyes were twisting in their sockets, rolling like a galleon on the high seas.
‘What’ve you taken?’
‘Nothing, I’m in loooooooooooove.’
I’d seen him like this before and in the past it had never turned out well. I bought more beer, in an attempt to get him so blind drunk that he’d be unable to storm backstage and accost the poor girl.
‘Want More’ chanted the Barfly.
‘Shuddafuckup, Micks coming on stage.’
Half an hour into his set I was singing and dancing around. The Barfly was in a strop.
‘Want the girl’
‘What have I told you before? You can’t HAVE the girl.’
‘Not fa-eeeeeeeeeh!’ as he stumbled across the floor and fell crashing to the ground. Behind him the Goth stood in an old ratty coat.
‘Answer your goddamn phone!’ he shouted. ‘I’ve been sat next door for the guts of an hour.’
The Barfly grunted, pulled himself up extracted a shard of glass from his hand. He was covered in beer and broken glass.
‘What’s that on your face?’ I asked, trying to quell the impending violence.
‘What?’ said the Goth pulling at his cheeks.
‘That… thing? Is it… fuck me… is that a smile?’
‘Uh yeah. It’s new do you like it?’
‘Eh, I’ve seen better.’
An hour and numerous pints later the band finished up.
‘That was great!’
‘It was very samey, not enough Bad Seeds’ said the Barfly.
I was too drunk to get into a fight with him about it.
‘Going home now.’ I said and stumbled down the stairs.
Behind me the Goth and the Barfly were making plans to sneak backstage and kidnap the girl. I left them to it.
Outside Mulligans this afternoon. Enjoying the sunshine and trying to cure an awful hangover.
C and P this one’s for you.
…
Blast.
I don’t know why the template won’t work properly with the pic.
Four full days in Barcelona should have been enough to see all of the sights. Of course that kind of thing is dependant on the fact that you get up early in the morning to beat the crowds and aren’t out carousing until the early hours of the night before. I’ll leave it up to you to decide which way we holidayed.
Saturday was our first full day in the city and we decided to use it getting orientated. The fourth member of our group wasn’t going to arrive until Sunday morning so we thought it best just to go for a wander and acquaint ourselves with the local hotspots. A wander south down to Port Vell and then we got lost in Barceloneta. One quick turnaround and we were back to the Port and up Via Laietana. At that point we entered the Barri Gotic and damn if we couldn’t escape the Placa del Pi. Not because it was so nice, but because everytime we turned around there we were - back in the square. Eventually we decided to follow the tourists on the Segway C6’s just to get onto a road that didn’t lead back to the Placa del Pi. This took us up past the Orfeo Catala and eventually to the Arc de Triumf where the sun finally broke through.
We did get to see the Sagradia Familia, although as it was Easter Sunday afternoon the place was jammed. They had also closed the stairs, so the only way up was in the lift and there was a two hour wait for that. We decided our time could be better spent so we didn’t go up.
We didn’t get into any museum’s unless you count the Museu de l’Erotic where there were a number of photos taken - although only a few are publishable. And we did pass by the door of the Palau Nacional up on MontJuic. The magic fountain display was due to start at 7 o’clock in the evening, but since the sun was still splitting the sky we thought it would be hard to see the lighting, so we just walked up to the top of the steps, taking pictures along the way.
On Monday - our final day - we were in pretty bad shape (although not as bad as we would be on Tuesday morning in the airport.) so we decided that a trip in cable car was in order. We had not counted on the incredibly bad service though. At the ticket office there were five people ahead of us in the line. The ticket seller sold two tickets, then went on a smoke break. When he came back to his booth he fumbled around again and went for another smoke break - having sold NO tickets. After about 25 mintues we got fed up and walked back for a wander round the Barri Gotic again. As it was a late start that day we found the cloister of the Catedral de Seu a lovely quiet space for our aching heads, well except for the honking of the guard geese.
There was a bunch of stuff we didn’t get to see. The Picasso museum, Parc Guell, La Boqueria, Casa Batlo and Casa Mila (although we did drive past this we didn’t go in.) All of which sort of gives me a reason to go back.
Oh dear god, 10 o’clock at night and the taxi driver had brought us to Beirut. We were staying in an area called ‘La Raval’ aka ‘Barri Xino’ aka ‘Chinatown.’
The taxi driver didn’t know where our street was, he kept driving around and around and around the Rambla del Raval making sure we were a target for any of the locals on the hunt for clueless tourists. Eventually he just dropped us on the side of the road while we waited for the lady who had the keys to our apartment to come hobbling out of some side street.
We followed her back down the dingy road and she took us in a doorway to our home for the weekend.
The apartment was grand, all we needed it for was a bed and a shower. It had two bedrooms, one on the ground floor, the second upstairs in a sort of loft.
That night we went out for drinks - sans coats of course sure and aren’t we on holliers in Spain?
The locals were all wearing winter coats and boots, no wonder they were staring. At Las Ramblas we stopped at a restaurant and got screwed by the waiters for the price of a bottle of wine. (20 euros for a bottle of Faustino VII!!) That, for those who are wondering was the LAST TIME we ate or drank anywhere near Las Ramblas.
La Raval wasn’t as bad as we had first thought - it never is really. I’d put it on a par with Smithfield to be honest, one of those places that anyone who hasn’t lived there doesn’t feel comfortable after dark, but perfectly ok for the locals. There were a bunch of half decent restaurants and some groovy laid-back bars on the Rambla del Raval, we were a 10 minute walk from Port Vell to the south (and Las Ramblas and the Barri Gotic if we were heading east) and there was a good selection of restaurants for breakfast and kebab shops still open at the end of the night. Although the only one we managed to stagger into was the Taj Mahal where we met Orlando Bloom - a Scottish guy named Thomas I think - and one of the shop (owners? managers? kebab makers?) was famous for some ad campaign about kebabs. (True story, Clarice took a photo with the poster on the wall behind him.)
We later realised that all those horror stories our ‘friends’ had been telling us about muggings and robberies were happening to the tourists who stayed on Las Ramblas or in L’Eixample. Our neighbourhood may have been where the thieves came back to at night, but we liked to think of it as a ‘Don’t shit on your own doorstep’ scenario.
Anyway by the last night we were comfortable enough in the area to agree that if we came back to Barcelona we’d probably stay around there again. This train of thought may have been helped along by the lovely bar girls in Ambar who were serving us what could almost be classed as triple measures. Ambar by the way was mentioned in my ‘Le Cool’ guide book and was 3 minutes away from our apartment. We didn’t try it until the final night - possibly just as well for, as Lelly said later, “If we’d found that place on the first night I’d be coming home in a body bag.”
More to Follow…
By Eli, age 33 and 51/52ths.
Today is Wednesday. It is pissing down with rain. I am eating chocolate covered toffee popcorn. I like it. It is yummy. At lunch today I ate Chicken Kiev. There was lots of butter on the chicken. I might have a heart attack later. I also had some potatoes. They were burnt. The chef tried to hide this fact by seasoning them with cumin and onions. They were not nice. Silly chef!
I am wearing a cardigan. It is a black cardigan. It is not very warm. I am sitting beside the window. I am cold. There is no heat in the office. I have to go to the pub tonight. I will probably get drunk. It is fun sometimes. Do you like to get drunk? This is my report for today, which is Wednesday.
Myself and Miz D ended up in the Mez last Wednesday night. I had met her after work and given the fact that both of us work in companies and have roles that require formal dress we were both still in our work gear. (ie, skirts and blouses.) At the door I was stopped and the gorilla asked to look in my bag.
‘What is it you’re looking for?’ I asked.
‘Bottles’ says he, ‘Have you got any?’
‘Eh, no’ I replied.
Now this is a first for me. I’ve been stopped before of course, for years I couldn’t get into places without ID, and there has always been the issue of doormen stopping to see just how drunk you are. But I’ve never been asked for a bag search for ‘bottles’. Not unless I was going into gigs and then it was mainly in Canada where they frisked you as well.
So what kind of place searches ladies handbags for ‘bottles’? What kind of place expects people to be sneaking in their own drink?
Is it the kind of place that overcharges for drink? The kind of place that short changes the customers perhaps?
(I ordered a bottle of Heineken and a gin and tonic and was charged 11 quid, but the barman only handed me back change of 6 from a 20.)
The Mezz, not going on my list of cool hangout spots in Dublin.
