As we descended through the candy-floss clouds and into Helsinki, it was a joy to see the sun was blazing. Combined with the fresh, very fresh in fact, air of Finland it makes for an ideal environment for me. I loves it.
Our promoter met us at the airport which is customary, then led us to his van where he'd bought us each a welcome bag of various CD's and some confectionery. That is most definitely not customary, but it was very sweet of him. His name was Big Daddy. He was kinda big but not as big as Big Dave from Newquay. He's big that lad. Besides, most psychobillies are huge. To earn the nick-name prefix of 'Big', you'd have to be mahoosive.
Another joyous feature of Finland is that a lot of gigs tend to be in hotels over there. The same hotel you're staying in. So you can play rock star and sit in your room being moody until show time. That's if you want to be a twat of course, I'd rather hang about back stage drinking and being a rock star there.
Big Daddy treated us to a rather fine dinner. We all sampled reindeer soup, which tasted a lot like bacon. I then had Steak a la Maison, which is Finnish for A Nice Piece Of Steak.
The gig itself was nothing to write home about attendance wise. The town was rather isolated, even for Finland, and its rather confusing as to why the gig wasn't put on in Helsinki, rather than driving two hours away to play in a small town. We had fun though, and even though we hadn't played for over a month, there were some moments there when we were really "'avin it".
After the gig, we decided to sample the sauna. I'd never been in one before. I loved it. We were all in there enjoying it when the door opens and the sound man asks us if there were any more towels and could he join us. We said yes to both so he closes the door. A minute or so later he opens the door again and enters. Stark bollock naked. You know those times when you don't know where to put your eyes? That was one of those times. Conversations seem a struggle too. Blame the language barrier. Really its the fact that a strangers penis may be comparable in size to your own, but when you know you shouldn't be looking at it, it becomes the biggest thing in the room.
Showered and feeling like a million Euros, we decided we were hungry. At four in the morning there wasn't many places to eat but we ventured out anyway. As luck would have it, there was a burger joint round the corner from the hotel and the splendid lady within cooked us up some cheeseburgers and chips. Chuffed to fucking bits with our haul, we headed back to the hotel, commenting on how freezing it was and looking forward to our meal with many more beers. As we got to the hotel we pushed the door...it was locked. We knocked. Nothing. We banged on it. Nothing. We pressed the buzzer. Nothing. We looked to each other, and I can't speak for the others but I was wondering who would die from the cold first. Miles was the skinniest, so I was putting money on him. Steve W was the largest so he might have made it to the morning.
Thankfully after a good few minutes of panic, someone addressed our cries and let us in. The relief should be bottled and sold, it was that good. After a couple of hours sleep, we were on the road again. Sans breakfast.
We're back in Finland in April. It should be a better gig people wise. One thing about that damn country though; I always get shocks. Static shocks from everything metal I touch. Not sure why I seem to be the only one afflicted either.
We're off on tour this week. 9 days round Germany and the Netherlands. Should be interesting, I'm really looking forward to it.
