Diary
28th Nov 2008 Klif 12, Den Hoorn,Texel
| Posted at 06:11 PM on December 01, 2008 |
Chris writes
For the three of us in Magna Carta, Texel was the end of two solid
months on the road.
Billed as 'Time for the Leaving' the last big tour in Holland, we
began with a sold out show in Tilburg, Schouwburg on October 1st and
technically it ended in Texel on 28th November.
This was not quite true as on the 29th November we had a concert in
the cantina at the 'Eekhoornnest with our friends the Desperados, but
these sessions tend to be more a chance to play and relax and meet
friends, rather than a hands- on concert situation.
Texel is an island off the Dutch coast, wild and windswept in the
wintertime and buzzing like a hive with tourists in the summer.
I love islands with especially fond memories of Pabay up there in the
Hebrides. The sky seems somehow more immense, changeable and far
reaching and the sound and scend of the sea is with you on all sides.
There is a timeless quality to islands that you do not find anywhere
else. Maybe it is down to so many natural elements converging on one
place emphasising the vastness of the sea and sky, but they do have a
quality unique to themselves.
This is surely passed on to the people who live on them, for
islanders, are definitely a race apart.
They tend to be tanned and windburned from the continual friction of
the weather; neighbourly, for in extreme conditions they depend one
upon another, and wary of strangers whilst being curious at the same
time.
Texel is no exception.
Den Helder, is a haven of ships old and new and particularly the tall
ships and the sinister black hull of the Russian submarine. You get
your boat to Texel from here
The ferry 'Skulpengat,' leaves every half hour in the summer, and, as
we found out to our cost, hourly in the winter. On this tour we have
prided ourselves on being on time for every soundcheck. I have to say
that this is very much down to Matt and Linda as I still persist in
believing that time is elastic, but we left our departure from Soest
more than a tad on the late side.
Up into the gathering dusk across a windblown Friesland and missed the
ferry by a hair.
Time and tide care not for the vagaries of man, so we called the Klif
and explained the situation, consumed some chips and krokets and
glumly watched the passing minutes. Nothing we could do.
Quite a few travellers waiting in the terminal were coming to see
Magna Carta, not least our friends Joop and Martha.
At last we were on. Twenty minutes and we were there, disembarked and
hurtling along the narrow turf walled roads we screeched to a halt in
front of Klif 12.
The hosts are Cor and partner Sebastian, two of life's greatest souls.
We have played there many times and recorded the DVD 'Ticket to the Moon' there.
It is a small theatre with an outsize plaster statue of Marilyn Monroe
at the edge of the car park.
Cor is welcoming as ever and equally outrageous, but under pressure as
he has a lot of people for dinner- they do great food there-the show
is sold out and in we come well late.
It could have been a disaster, but it was not.
Linda and Matt did a fantastic job wiring up the sound system, by no
means a simple exercise and we actually had it all soundchecked before
the bulk of the audience turned up.
Cor and Sebastian found their second wind; a trainee Egyptologist named
Janko introduced himself as the barman. Matt's lovely folks turned up
as did Nico and Trudy; Henk and Octavia and a whole host of good folk.
molten form with no trace of melancholy, and played two blistering
sets. A lot of merchandise was sold; good people hung around
afterwards, much falling over water in a variety of guises was
consumed and around 4.30 am. Matt, Linda and I adjourned upstairs to
drink a nightcap and eat a spot of early morning snap.
We crawled out into the real world around 11.00am. No self-pity. It is
the musician's golden rule, if you are really going to party, then
don't moan about the consequences.
We loaded up. Ate an uitsmeiter each.
Sadly hugged Cor, and wreathing the world in diesel fumes roared off
down the highway for the ferry.
In some ways it was the last one. In many ways it wasn't.
But it was a great night and one never to forget.
Cor; Sebastian, love and thanks,
We and I will never forget you.
Chris. December 2008.
For the three of us in Magna Carta, Texel was the end of two solid
months on the road.
Billed as 'Time for the Leaving' the last big tour in Holland, we
began with a sold out show in Tilburg, Schouwburg on October 1st and
technically it ended in Texel on 28th November.
This was not quite true as on the 29th November we had a concert in
the cantina at the 'Eekhoornnest with our friends the Desperados, but
these sessions tend to be more a chance to play and relax and meet
friends, rather than a hands- on concert situation.
Texel is an island off the Dutch coast, wild and windswept in the
wintertime and buzzing like a hive with tourists in the summer.
I love islands with especially fond memories of Pabay up there in the
Hebrides. The sky seems somehow more immense, changeable and far
reaching and the sound and scend of the sea is with you on all sides.
There is a timeless quality to islands that you do not find anywhere
else. Maybe it is down to so many natural elements converging on one
place emphasising the vastness of the sea and sky, but they do have a
quality unique to themselves.
This is surely passed on to the people who live on them, for
islanders, are definitely a race apart.
They tend to be tanned and windburned from the continual friction of
the weather; neighbourly, for in extreme conditions they depend one
upon another, and wary of strangers whilst being curious at the same
time.
Texel is no exception.
Den Helder, is a haven of ships old and new and particularly the tall
ships and the sinister black hull of the Russian submarine. You get
your boat to Texel from here
The ferry 'Skulpengat,' leaves every half hour in the summer, and, as
we found out to our cost, hourly in the winter. On this tour we have
prided ourselves on being on time for every soundcheck. I have to say
that this is very much down to Matt and Linda as I still persist in
believing that time is elastic, but we left our departure from Soest
more than a tad on the late side.
Up into the gathering dusk across a windblown Friesland and missed the
ferry by a hair.
Time and tide care not for the vagaries of man, so we called the Klif
and explained the situation, consumed some chips and krokets and
glumly watched the passing minutes. Nothing we could do.
Quite a few travellers waiting in the terminal were coming to see
Magna Carta, not least our friends Joop and Martha.
At last we were on. Twenty minutes and we were there, disembarked and
hurtling along the narrow turf walled roads we screeched to a halt in
front of Klif 12.
The hosts are Cor and partner Sebastian, two of life's greatest souls.
We have played there many times and recorded the DVD 'Ticket to the Moon' there.
It is a small theatre with an outsize plaster statue of Marilyn Monroe
at the edge of the car park.
Cor is welcoming as ever and equally outrageous, but under pressure as
he has a lot of people for dinner- they do great food there-the show
is sold out and in we come well late.
It could have been a disaster, but it was not.
Linda and Matt did a fantastic job wiring up the sound system, by no
means a simple exercise and we actually had it all soundchecked before
the bulk of the audience turned up.
Cor and Sebastian found their second wind; a trainee Egyptologist named
Janko introduced himself as the barman. Matt's lovely folks turned up
as did Nico and Trudy; Henk and Octavia and a whole host of good folk.
Slightly out of focus - sorry!
...and in the expensive seats ....(just kidding)
There were a couple of sound hiccouphs in the first set, but we hit...and in the expensive seats ....(just kidding)
molten form with no trace of melancholy, and played two blistering
sets. A lot of merchandise was sold; good people hung around
afterwards, much falling over water in a variety of guises was
consumed and around 4.30 am. Matt, Linda and I adjourned upstairs to
drink a nightcap and eat a spot of early morning snap.
We crawled out into the real world around 11.00am. No self-pity. It is
the musician's golden rule, if you are really going to party, then
don't moan about the consequences.
We loaded up. Ate an uitsmeiter each.
Sadly hugged Cor, and wreathing the world in diesel fumes roared off
down the highway for the ferry.
In some ways it was the last one. In many ways it wasn't.
But it was a great night and one never to forget.
Cor; Sebastian, love and thanks,
We and I will never forget you.
Chris. December 2008.
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