The trip over to Ireland was a good hump. Straight from Paris, across England onto the ferry in a blustering rainstorm traveling overnight and arriving in Dublin at the crack of dawn.
One's necessary requirements are focused down to a precious few when you're touring. Our booking in Dublin was a traveling musician's paradise. The hotel was one block over from the venue. The laundry next door. The all-important Internet café and international phone center on the next block. Hardware store, restaurants and newsstand within a block or two. A ten-minute walk to the mall with all manner of clothing and bookstores, record shops, music stores. Yes, Dublin worked out great from a logistical point of view.
The weather was fine, not unlike LA. Except for drizzle at night. The absolute high point of the tour for me, so far, was when I went around to visit historic St. Ann's church, home parish of Oscar Wilde and Bram Stoker.
It was there, through mutual friends, I was blessed to meet Christy Moore, the great Irish troubadour. I have felt for a while that Christy's work and story ran a loose parallel with mine. At least in the love of a good lyric and a connection to your community. Meeting him was completely unexpected and a beautiful surprise to me. One of those gifts that can come into your life when you're in the right place for the right reasons. He was gracious and honest and we connected on many levels. We promised to write a song together. What an honor.
Made new friends and had a fine performance that evening at The Village. Sometimes I meet folks and feel like I've known them all my life. Or perhaps I'm finding the differences between us are less and the similarities are more.
The following day we drove up the Irish coast to Belfast and took the ferry across to Scotland.
I've seen more countryside, green hills and valleys on this trip than the whole of my days as a city boy. Scotland is all that it's advertised to be. Beautiful, lush country and good folks.
The show was good and the crowd got scary into it. It was a little hard to tell if they were enjoying the music as the set progressed. I know we ask a lot of an audience. We play some strange music sometimes and folks come to the shows with some preconceived ideas of who I am and what I should do. Fortunately, most of the people that come out to see and hear what I'm doing have an open mind, and when they give it a chance, they really connect with the music. My gig is very in the moment and not a calculated show-business type of performance. It's more like a jazz gig in that sense. The crowd kinda stood back with their arms folded and the lighting made it difficult to see their faces. The band played a smoking set and at the end the place just exploded in cheering and raving. It was as if a dam had burst and all the emotion of the whole set erupted all at once. I talked with the fans afterward and a good time was had by all.
We stayed at a classic Scottish bed and breakfast out in the country. More cows, sheep and chickens. And quiet. Lots and lots of quiet. Much discussion in the touring party about something being wrong with the air. We couldn't see it. Plus there was no advertising decorating the countryside. Very strange. Horses dogs and cats, birds and bees. Strange.
Off to England.
God bless, w.
One's necessary requirements are focused down to a precious few when you're touring. Our booking in Dublin was a traveling musician's paradise. The hotel was one block over from the venue. The laundry next door. The all-important Internet café and international phone center on the next block. Hardware store, restaurants and newsstand within a block or two. A ten-minute walk to the mall with all manner of clothing and bookstores, record shops, music stores. Yes, Dublin worked out great from a logistical point of view.
The weather was fine, not unlike LA. Except for drizzle at night. The absolute high point of the tour for me, so far, was when I went around to visit historic St. Ann's church, home parish of Oscar Wilde and Bram Stoker.
It was there, through mutual friends, I was blessed to meet Christy Moore, the great Irish troubadour. I have felt for a while that Christy's work and story ran a loose parallel with mine. At least in the love of a good lyric and a connection to your community. Meeting him was completely unexpected and a beautiful surprise to me. One of those gifts that can come into your life when you're in the right place for the right reasons. He was gracious and honest and we connected on many levels. We promised to write a song together. What an honor.
Made new friends and had a fine performance that evening at The Village. Sometimes I meet folks and feel like I've known them all my life. Or perhaps I'm finding the differences between us are less and the similarities are more.
The following day we drove up the Irish coast to Belfast and took the ferry across to Scotland.
I've seen more countryside, green hills and valleys on this trip than the whole of my days as a city boy. Scotland is all that it's advertised to be. Beautiful, lush country and good folks.
The show was good and the crowd got scary into it. It was a little hard to tell if they were enjoying the music as the set progressed. I know we ask a lot of an audience. We play some strange music sometimes and folks come to the shows with some preconceived ideas of who I am and what I should do. Fortunately, most of the people that come out to see and hear what I'm doing have an open mind, and when they give it a chance, they really connect with the music. My gig is very in the moment and not a calculated show-business type of performance. It's more like a jazz gig in that sense. The crowd kinda stood back with their arms folded and the lighting made it difficult to see their faces. The band played a smoking set and at the end the place just exploded in cheering and raving. It was as if a dam had burst and all the emotion of the whole set erupted all at once. I talked with the fans afterward and a good time was had by all.
We stayed at a classic Scottish bed and breakfast out in the country. More cows, sheep and chickens. And quiet. Lots and lots of quiet. Much discussion in the touring party about something being wrong with the air. We couldn't see it. Plus there was no advertising decorating the countryside. Very strange. Horses dogs and cats, birds and bees. Strange.
Off to England.
God bless, w.
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