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mad_andyWell, I'm home!
And damn, but what a busy few days it's been!
OK, uber quick over view:
Friday I didn't want to go. Walking to the bus in the rain didn't change my mind. There were tears. But we took the bus to Heathrow and got on the plane and, apart from the utter agony of stuffed sinuses trying to explode when we landed that was fine.
The plan had been to sleep at the airport, probably on the floor. As Slay was feeling only slightly less awful than I we both agreed that a hotel was a good idea - as it was not quite 10pm and therefore had around twelve hours to wait.
The staff at the Radisson Arlanda deserve a medal. They never so much as blinked at our appearance, and we got a decent night's kip.
Found the check in desk the next morning, hooked up with some old friends and made some new ones. Found a smoking area. Got on the plane.
Bruce didn't come and walk up and down the way he did last time, but the cabin crew were delightful, Bruce was a love over the intercom and the Danes drank the plane dry. This has never happened to Astraeus before.
Late to Milan, late on the buses, late to the hotel, confusion, mayhem, late to the gig and thus no barrier. Found a spot by the sound desk and tried not to feel let down.
Chatted up cute guys. Discovered a new way to call someone a cunt with hand signals and embarrassed the hell out of a cute young italian guy by asking him what said hand signal meant, whilst several other BA folks (all young blokes) watched me with big grins.
Chatted to more BA people, many of whom were very very unhappy that we hadn't had a crack at the barrier.
The gig was good, but I saw three fifths of fuck all - it was a very good light show, but it's a long fucking way to go to see lots of pretty lights.
Wondered if whole trip was a colossal mistake.
Discovered that when I hear 'The Longest Day' live I cry. It's the lyrics, I swear.
Gig over, wandered back to hotel with the guys we'd been hanging out with - once I'd tracked down Nico (Scorpio from the Helloweenboard) outside the venue, took a couple of pics in which I look horrid and she looks great. *Sigh*
Mooched the giant market of pirated Maiden goods.
Went to the bar for multiple commiseration, beer and much, much flirting. Began to cheer up a bit - hell of a party atmosphere. Realised that one of the english guys was one of The Usual Suspects that we bump into at gigs in London! Chat, flirt, show off ink, have a very drunk Danish guy tell me he thinks I'm "one wild woman" and send the bar staff into hysterics and panic. They are clearly not used to this.
Slay has a sense of humour failure, drags me off to bed. We have a row.
Following morning stagger down to breakfast barefoot and get stared at. Breakfast good. They have English tea. Long hot shower leaves me feeling rather more human.
Hang out with guys, flirt some more, am given a bottle of beer by the Danish Synchronised Puking Team. It's good beer. Slay gives me one of his Disappointed Looks.
I flirt some more, and we decide to head off to find a cashpoint and some cigarettes. We end up wandering around the pirate merchandise market (which is HUGE), buying shirts and flags and startling the natives. We are, at this point:
Me
Slay
Magnus (cute young Swede - not too sure if he was hanging out with us or we were hanging out with him. I got a new crush, that's for damn sure.)
Johan (Swede with American accent)
Jon (Single Icelandic example)
Stuart (Australian - flew in just for this)
We were, at best, a very mixed crowd. Ink got lots of wide eyed attention from locals, and i got my picture taken a lot. Slay approached another sense of humour failure when an Italian stallholder looked at the ink, then pulled the front of my shirt forward and peered down my cleavage to see how far the ink went...!
To the local mall, where we freaked the mundanes even more. We weren't actually in Milan itself, but on a combined industrial/retail park about forty minutes outsode the city. Poo.
Anyway. Scared lots of italians - this will happen when you're looking a little grim, stomp across marble floors in boots that go ker*ching* ker*ching* and are flanked by two long haired dark eyed Maiden fans, one of whom looks like a mutant and the other has dangerous eyes...
*Snicker*
Anyway. Smokes bought, Magnus still firmly at my side we retreat to the hotel and I have a snooze. The Danes finish off emptying the bar. Slay watches me to make sure I don't flirt with anyone.
Then we head over to the venue at four for the photoshoot with Bruce on the stage - and wow, what a set! To see it when the venue is empty is awesome enough, but to walk on it? Holy crap.
We were split into three groups, and myself, Slay and Magnus hung back to be in group three, as we had it on good authority that the last group got slightly longer.
Two groups did their thing and up we went.
I can't really describe it - to be up there, under the lights, and look out over the hall? To be there in the middle of it?
Speechless. Possibly would have more to say had the stage then not become a total scrum as Bruce appeared; Slay got his photo with Nicko's kit, as did Magnus, and then I tried to get close enough to Bruce to get my Stranger In A Strange Land flag signed and a pic. My god, what a struggle.
But eventually I got snuggled in next to Bruce and - thank you Scotchy - told him the story about my Texan friend who'd asked me to pinch his bum. But that, I said, seemed rude, so I patted it instead and then... left my hand there while Slay struggled to take a picture. *Grin*
(By the way, this is Magnus:
I took it while I was kneeling on the stage!)
Got pic, took one of Slay, took one of Magnus and Bruce, then we all got shuffled to the front of the stage for the group pic. I'll try and get it scanned at some point - now I'm not saying my sweaty paw had anything to do with it, but Bruce is only smiling in our group pic...!
I have had my foot on Steve Harris' right hand monitor, and my hand on Bruce's muscular arse. I can now die happy, ta.
Chased out the venue, told to return at 5:30 - the plan was BruceAir people let in then, first to the barrier winners at 5:45, and everyone else at 6.
The local police were having none of it.
At 5:45, we're all fidgety as hell and nervous. Guys on the doors are ignoring us, and then we see Dickie Bell (I think he's Maiden's stage manager) come to find out where we were. He is accompanied by Dave Pattenden, who is on the management team and has been herding us around. Anyway, then two coppers appear and sneer at us through the glass door.
There is much gesticulation. Dickie sticks his head out of the door and informs us that the police probably haven't had their bribe.
Dave looks worried. Coppers finger their guns.
They give in at 5:55, then search everyone painfully slowly. We're all going mental.
I stride up to the nearest police officer. Now, he is my height (in Boots Of Doom) and is suddenly faced with a scowling, angry wench with cleavage to her nostrils, heavy tattoos, flared nostrils and An Attitude.
I fling my arms wide, stare straight into his eyes, point the tits at him, and say in as insolent a tone as I can manage:
"You wanna check me?"
He shrinks back (I swear), flaps his hands and ducks his head - "No, scusi, scusi, prego!" - and waves me off toward the escalator. Slay tells me he blushed when I spun on my heels with a snort and strode off...
...only remembering after I'd entered the venue that he had a bloody gun, and I'd been behaving in a less than polite manner!
As I was still feeling rough, we decided to grab a seat on the side of the arena. Front row, still close enough to the stage to see and be seen by the band, but out of the scrum on the floor. We sit with two Swedish guys (Michael and Andreas), Magnus having headed off to the barrier.
I kept an eye on our gang all night, and not a one of them was dragged over. Considering the crush, that says a lot for their stamina!
Gig was... incredible. From where we were we could see backstage; Steve Harris escorting Lauren to the stage, giving her a pep talk first and acknowledging our yells of delight (I got a thumbs up from him!), all the roadies saluting the Maiden boys when they turned up, with Janick and Nicko horsing around with pretend inspections and the like.
And when they hit the stage - shit, it was wonderful. Got lots of kisses blown to me from Janick - not sure if it was the boobs or the fact that I was hanging over our barrier yelling my head off. Got a wink and a point from Bruce as well, which is pretty rare - I was well happy with that!
Some twat in the crowd threw a bottle of water over Bruce early in the set, shorting out his mic and making him a very unhappy bunny. The others never missed a beat, but Bruce certainly didn't speak to the crowd as much as he had the night before.
Longest Day made me cry again.
Legacy is wonderful, and Bruce had two huge spotlights - one either side of the stage - and swung them round to highlight various sections of the crowd. Spent a lot of time shining them on us - I wonder if that's because the BA people knew the words to the songs and the crowd didn't? Who knows.
Anyway, when they swung into Fear Of The Dark the crowd took over - Bruce just gave up, and acted out the words while the crowd sang the first verse and chorus! Clip on YouTube:
Wonderful, wonderful experience.
Eddie and his tank - gotta love the Ed.
Staggered out of the venue, pausing only to stun another couple of locals with the ink (*heheh*), then grabbed bags and headed for the buses. Slay had a tantrum because I wouldn't get on the bus immediately but hung out with Magnus and a couple of the others to have a smoke first...
Drunken Danes last out the venue, so we got away without having to endure their noise. Stopped outside airport for a smoke, chatted to Dave (P) and got the full story of the police, which was that they were just being pissy and difficult Because They Could, and that this always, always happens in Italy.
Inconvenienced the airport staff, laughed and joked, got on the plane. Wandered up and down, took my last chance to flirt with as many people as possible and had a quiet lech at Magnus when he changed his shirt next to us. Nice looking lad, that one!
Was very sad to say goodbye to all the guys we'd got to know over the two days. Oh, and it turns out that we could have stayed on board the plane and hopped a lift to Gatwick with Bruce - except we already had a hotel booked. So we didn't. *Mutter*
Michael and Andreas wouldn't hear of us having breakfast in the airport, but took us back to Michael's place to drink tea, ogle his collection of chain mail shirts and the jewellry he makes from chain mail links (the guy is an artist as well as a computer geek!), drink tea, chat etc etc. Amazing hospitality from a super nice guy who has actually managed to take a photo of me that I don't hate - will upload the disc at some point and show you!
Anyway, off we went again, Andreas showing us the way into town and pointing us at our hotel, the Stockholm Sheraton. We clomped in there looking decidedly beat up, dirty, ragged and exhausted - other guests drew back in horror, but the staff never so much as batted an eyelid, and let us check in early.
Slept a lot.
Went out to see what we could see in Stockholm, had a nice mooch round the old town, then took a taxi to meet up with Queenie, Lil and Michelle in a rock bar in the city. Had a meal, a few beers, went back to the hotel - and didn't want it to end.
Came home.
Catching up on e-mail, LJ, Rockfic...
What did I enjoy most?
The people, without a doubt. Having the event over two days gave you chance to get to know some of them, have fun, hang out - it was wonderful. The generosity of the Swedes is amazing, the Dane's capacity for beer and drunken behaviour hysterical, meeting people from Australia, New Zealand, other brits, Brazilians.... in such a party atmosphere. Comradeship and music and Bruce!
The worst part was doing the whole thing with a stinking cold.
BruceAir 2007?
You betcha!
And damn, but what a busy few days it's been!
OK, uber quick over view:
Friday I didn't want to go. Walking to the bus in the rain didn't change my mind. There were tears. But we took the bus to Heathrow and got on the plane and, apart from the utter agony of stuffed sinuses trying to explode when we landed that was fine.
The plan had been to sleep at the airport, probably on the floor. As Slay was feeling only slightly less awful than I we both agreed that a hotel was a good idea - as it was not quite 10pm and therefore had around twelve hours to wait.
The staff at the Radisson Arlanda deserve a medal. They never so much as blinked at our appearance, and we got a decent night's kip.
Found the check in desk the next morning, hooked up with some old friends and made some new ones. Found a smoking area. Got on the plane.
Bruce didn't come and walk up and down the way he did last time, but the cabin crew were delightful, Bruce was a love over the intercom and the Danes drank the plane dry. This has never happened to Astraeus before.
Late to Milan, late on the buses, late to the hotel, confusion, mayhem, late to the gig and thus no barrier. Found a spot by the sound desk and tried not to feel let down.
Chatted up cute guys. Discovered a new way to call someone a cunt with hand signals and embarrassed the hell out of a cute young italian guy by asking him what said hand signal meant, whilst several other BA folks (all young blokes) watched me with big grins.
Chatted to more BA people, many of whom were very very unhappy that we hadn't had a crack at the barrier.
The gig was good, but I saw three fifths of fuck all - it was a very good light show, but it's a long fucking way to go to see lots of pretty lights.
Wondered if whole trip was a colossal mistake.
Discovered that when I hear 'The Longest Day' live I cry. It's the lyrics, I swear.
Gig over, wandered back to hotel with the guys we'd been hanging out with - once I'd tracked down Nico (Scorpio from the Helloweenboard) outside the venue, took a couple of pics in which I look horrid and she looks great. *Sigh*
Mooched the giant market of pirated Maiden goods.
Went to the bar for multiple commiseration, beer and much, much flirting. Began to cheer up a bit - hell of a party atmosphere. Realised that one of the english guys was one of The Usual Suspects that we bump into at gigs in London! Chat, flirt, show off ink, have a very drunk Danish guy tell me he thinks I'm "one wild woman" and send the bar staff into hysterics and panic. They are clearly not used to this.
Slay has a sense of humour failure, drags me off to bed. We have a row.
Following morning stagger down to breakfast barefoot and get stared at. Breakfast good. They have English tea. Long hot shower leaves me feeling rather more human.
Hang out with guys, flirt some more, am given a bottle of beer by the Danish Synchronised Puking Team. It's good beer. Slay gives me one of his Disappointed Looks.
I flirt some more, and we decide to head off to find a cashpoint and some cigarettes. We end up wandering around the pirate merchandise market (which is HUGE), buying shirts and flags and startling the natives. We are, at this point:
Me
Slay
Magnus (cute young Swede - not too sure if he was hanging out with us or we were hanging out with him. I got a new crush, that's for damn sure.)
Johan (Swede with American accent)
Jon (Single Icelandic example)
Stuart (Australian - flew in just for this)
We were, at best, a very mixed crowd. Ink got lots of wide eyed attention from locals, and i got my picture taken a lot. Slay approached another sense of humour failure when an Italian stallholder looked at the ink, then pulled the front of my shirt forward and peered down my cleavage to see how far the ink went...!
To the local mall, where we freaked the mundanes even more. We weren't actually in Milan itself, but on a combined industrial/retail park about forty minutes outsode the city. Poo.
Anyway. Scared lots of italians - this will happen when you're looking a little grim, stomp across marble floors in boots that go ker*ching* ker*ching* and are flanked by two long haired dark eyed Maiden fans, one of whom looks like a mutant and the other has dangerous eyes...
*Snicker*
Anyway. Smokes bought, Magnus still firmly at my side we retreat to the hotel and I have a snooze. The Danes finish off emptying the bar. Slay watches me to make sure I don't flirt with anyone.
Then we head over to the venue at four for the photoshoot with Bruce on the stage - and wow, what a set! To see it when the venue is empty is awesome enough, but to walk on it? Holy crap.
We were split into three groups, and myself, Slay and Magnus hung back to be in group three, as we had it on good authority that the last group got slightly longer.
Two groups did their thing and up we went.
I can't really describe it - to be up there, under the lights, and look out over the hall? To be there in the middle of it?
Speechless. Possibly would have more to say had the stage then not become a total scrum as Bruce appeared; Slay got his photo with Nicko's kit, as did Magnus, and then I tried to get close enough to Bruce to get my Stranger In A Strange Land flag signed and a pic. My god, what a struggle.
But eventually I got snuggled in next to Bruce and - thank you Scotchy - told him the story about my Texan friend who'd asked me to pinch his bum. But that, I said, seemed rude, so I patted it instead and then... left my hand there while Slay struggled to take a picture. *Grin*
(By the way, this is Magnus:
I took it while I was kneeling on the stage!)
Got pic, took one of Slay, took one of Magnus and Bruce, then we all got shuffled to the front of the stage for the group pic. I'll try and get it scanned at some point - now I'm not saying my sweaty paw had anything to do with it, but Bruce is only smiling in our group pic...!
I have had my foot on Steve Harris' right hand monitor, and my hand on Bruce's muscular arse. I can now die happy, ta.
Chased out the venue, told to return at 5:30 - the plan was BruceAir people let in then, first to the barrier winners at 5:45, and everyone else at 6.
The local police were having none of it.
At 5:45, we're all fidgety as hell and nervous. Guys on the doors are ignoring us, and then we see Dickie Bell (I think he's Maiden's stage manager) come to find out where we were. He is accompanied by Dave Pattenden, who is on the management team and has been herding us around. Anyway, then two coppers appear and sneer at us through the glass door.
There is much gesticulation. Dickie sticks his head out of the door and informs us that the police probably haven't had their bribe.
Dave looks worried. Coppers finger their guns.
They give in at 5:55, then search everyone painfully slowly. We're all going mental.
I stride up to the nearest police officer. Now, he is my height (in Boots Of Doom) and is suddenly faced with a scowling, angry wench with cleavage to her nostrils, heavy tattoos, flared nostrils and An Attitude.
I fling my arms wide, stare straight into his eyes, point the tits at him, and say in as insolent a tone as I can manage:
"You wanna check me?"
He shrinks back (I swear), flaps his hands and ducks his head - "No, scusi, scusi, prego!" - and waves me off toward the escalator. Slay tells me he blushed when I spun on my heels with a snort and strode off...
...only remembering after I'd entered the venue that he had a bloody gun, and I'd been behaving in a less than polite manner!
As I was still feeling rough, we decided to grab a seat on the side of the arena. Front row, still close enough to the stage to see and be seen by the band, but out of the scrum on the floor. We sit with two Swedish guys (Michael and Andreas), Magnus having headed off to the barrier.
I kept an eye on our gang all night, and not a one of them was dragged over. Considering the crush, that says a lot for their stamina!
Gig was... incredible. From where we were we could see backstage; Steve Harris escorting Lauren to the stage, giving her a pep talk first and acknowledging our yells of delight (I got a thumbs up from him!), all the roadies saluting the Maiden boys when they turned up, with Janick and Nicko horsing around with pretend inspections and the like.
And when they hit the stage - shit, it was wonderful. Got lots of kisses blown to me from Janick - not sure if it was the boobs or the fact that I was hanging over our barrier yelling my head off. Got a wink and a point from Bruce as well, which is pretty rare - I was well happy with that!
Some twat in the crowd threw a bottle of water over Bruce early in the set, shorting out his mic and making him a very unhappy bunny. The others never missed a beat, but Bruce certainly didn't speak to the crowd as much as he had the night before.
Longest Day made me cry again.
Legacy is wonderful, and Bruce had two huge spotlights - one either side of the stage - and swung them round to highlight various sections of the crowd. Spent a lot of time shining them on us - I wonder if that's because the BA people knew the words to the songs and the crowd didn't? Who knows.
Anyway, when they swung into Fear Of The Dark the crowd took over - Bruce just gave up, and acted out the words while the crowd sang the first verse and chorus! Clip on YouTube:
Wonderful, wonderful experience.
Eddie and his tank - gotta love the Ed.
Staggered out of the venue, pausing only to stun another couple of locals with the ink (*heheh*), then grabbed bags and headed for the buses. Slay had a tantrum because I wouldn't get on the bus immediately but hung out with Magnus and a couple of the others to have a smoke first...
Drunken Danes last out the venue, so we got away without having to endure their noise. Stopped outside airport for a smoke, chatted to Dave (P) and got the full story of the police, which was that they were just being pissy and difficult Because They Could, and that this always, always happens in Italy.
Inconvenienced the airport staff, laughed and joked, got on the plane. Wandered up and down, took my last chance to flirt with as many people as possible and had a quiet lech at Magnus when he changed his shirt next to us. Nice looking lad, that one!
Was very sad to say goodbye to all the guys we'd got to know over the two days. Oh, and it turns out that we could have stayed on board the plane and hopped a lift to Gatwick with Bruce - except we already had a hotel booked. So we didn't. *Mutter*
Michael and Andreas wouldn't hear of us having breakfast in the airport, but took us back to Michael's place to drink tea, ogle his collection of chain mail shirts and the jewellry he makes from chain mail links (the guy is an artist as well as a computer geek!), drink tea, chat etc etc. Amazing hospitality from a super nice guy who has actually managed to take a photo of me that I don't hate - will upload the disc at some point and show you!
Anyway, off we went again, Andreas showing us the way into town and pointing us at our hotel, the Stockholm Sheraton. We clomped in there looking decidedly beat up, dirty, ragged and exhausted - other guests drew back in horror, but the staff never so much as batted an eyelid, and let us check in early.
Slept a lot.
Went out to see what we could see in Stockholm, had a nice mooch round the old town, then took a taxi to meet up with Queenie, Lil and Michelle in a rock bar in the city. Had a meal, a few beers, went back to the hotel - and didn't want it to end.
Came home.
Catching up on e-mail, LJ, Rockfic...
What did I enjoy most?
The people, without a doubt. Having the event over two days gave you chance to get to know some of them, have fun, hang out - it was wonderful. The generosity of the Swedes is amazing, the Dane's capacity for beer and drunken behaviour hysterical, meeting people from Australia, New Zealand, other brits, Brazilians.... in such a party atmosphere. Comradeship and music and Bruce!
The worst part was doing the whole thing with a stinking cold.
BruceAir 2007?
You betcha!
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
no subject
Date: 2006-12-06 02:37 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-06 02:53 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2006-12-06 04:50 am (UTC)And you look awesome!
And that video clip? Holy mother of god.
no subject
Date: 2006-12-08 04:59 am (UTC)