We get up to lots of adventures on our musical journeys! Here are a few of our reminiscences from the last 10 years or so…
Just recounting a chilly April weekend festival in Falmouth – having arrived at the seafront bandstand and witnessing the strangely great Acid Ceilidh, we managed to squeeze ourselves into the stand for our first performance of the day, surrounded by an enthusiastic audience.
Rich Green had arrived in advance and warned of the previous night’s poor sleep on a distant campsite, with icicles inside his tent. Jesse assured the rest of us would-be campers that “something better” would become available for tonight’s lodgings.
Relocating to the Chintz Bar on the High Street, we reverse the format of our earlier set and line the courtyard to play in to (our slightly terrified) crowd (Oh God! Oh Jesus CHRIST!!).
Following this, the intrepid campers van off to pitch tents alongside Rich, traversing a pitted farm track littered with rusted farming/logging machinery, half-finished off-grid domiciles and yurts, trying to determine if we’re poaching someone else’s designated sleeping arrangements by entering a historic barn/building site (we eventually conclude that we are and resign ourselves back to a night in our respective tents). Meanwhile, the more sensible among us check into their prebooked hotel/AirBnB lodgings.
We reconvene in town (the clear, sunny day now giving way to a cold, windy night) and catch more music at the Princess Pavilion (This Is The Kit) and The Cornish Bank (the indescribably brilliant Paddy Steer). Jesse continues to sound out potential alternative digs, though sharing floorspace upstairs with an unspecified number of other festival musicians doesn’t sound too promising, so we drink beer until the music stops, hoping for the best.
Jesse eventually confirms the worst and we’re back in the van, returning to our pitches, a sly, shared nightcap of red wine as our insulation.
Rising all too few hours later, we discover our neighbouring yurt has been occupied by no other than Paddy Steer and have a lovely chat about a “safe layby sleep-in recommendations” app before heading back into town for lunch, seaside strolls and the journey home.
Here’s a memory. The first rehearsal that I attended as a member of the Fantasy Orchestra was the final rehearsal before a concert of David Bowie songs. Another orchestra member said I should come and play in the concert, despite my lack of rehearsal. I did, and often lost my place in the music. But the concert was wonderful. The audience were in Bowie costumes and face-paint and sang along with every word, even for relatively obscure numbers. I was hooked.