The NAGNFC Riveting Chapters
The continuing saga of one man's journey to see Gary Numan's concerts wherever they are
February 2003
Chapter 1: BRISTOL, ENGLAND
The new year had rolled around with the great news that Gary Numan would be doing some concerts in the UK in February. "Egad," I exclaimed. I must sell tons of crap on eBay to finance the sojourn. I felt like an old hat by now. In April the previous year, England was very new and daunting, but now I'd been to the UK twice previous, and knew the drill and what to expect.
Not long after I announced on the NAGNFC that I'd be getting over for the shows, NAGNFC reader Mark Darmofal wrote me asking if he could tag along. It was a new experience to be bringing someone along. He mailed me the funds for the plane ticket and his concert tickets. My friends Chris and Tina had already helped me obtain my own concert tickets.
Mark in Pennsylvania lives closer to the Newark Airport. But his plan was to stay with me up here then get a bus into New York City, then transfer to Newark where we would fly to Britain. Before I knew it, Jenne from Los Angeles wrote saying that her and Charles would be getting over for the shows as well. Jenne is one of the great folks I met on the 2001 US Pure Tour. She had backstage passes for me and John Gullidge, yet I was busy leading a large, merry crowd into the bowels of Disneyland in search of the tour bus. Jenne said we could rent a car to get from London to Bristol. She would even drive the whole way! I was up for that!
Mark was psyched for the trip. He'd never been there before. I got us a great deal on the plane. Just before I got on the internet to grab the tickets, I saw a commercial for British Airways touting roundtrip NY to London for $199 plus taxes. And if I acted in 3 days, they would throw in 2 free nights each at a web listing of 4 star London hotels. WOW! Was that karma or what?
Mark left his car parked in my driveway and brought in his luggage. I stayed up late to update the website, then got as much sleep as I could. Our Coach USA bus left at 10 in the morning on a crisp, raw February morning. I hadn't been on a long distance bus in decades. My folks saw us off and we were on the road. Funny thing was, I thought the bus would take I-81 past Mark's house about an hour south, but it took I-17, a much more scenic route I think.
I wasn't the best company on the bus. My head rested against the window clawing at sleep as the scenery rode by. I had brought a minidisc with the latest episode of Howard Stern which entertained us for part of the trip. I fell asleep once again, but awoke to tall buildings and daring traffic, New York City.
I didn't expect NYC's Port Authority to be so massive. Luckily, info desks were plentiful and we found our airport shuttle with zero problem. The trip to Newark Airport wasn't even 30 minutes. At the check in desk, I asked for a window seat. Mark said he wanted the window. A quick flip of the coin decided our fate. He would get the window on the way out, and my turn would come on the return trip. That was cool as it would be daytime on the trip back for me. :-)
I got us to Newark early so there would be no rushing, and now we had almost three hours to kill. We took turns in the restroom and looked around the shops and restaurants before sliding through security to the waiting plane. We still had some time so we listened to more Howard Stern.
The British Airways flight was pretty uneventful. Pretty nice trip actually. We enjoyed great movies and great food, as far as airline food that is. I joked with Mark. I told him when they come around asking if you want chicken or beef for dinner, the correct answer was 'Neither'. We both ended up grabbing chicken though. Usually the lesser of the two evils.
Mark was fairly giddy to be here as we disembarked and walked into Heathrow Airport. I explained the process to him of filling in that 5 minute form helping you breeze through customs. This way they don't have to ask you the customary questions. It's all right there on the form. We left the "Address in the UK" blank as we didn't live here, but it turns out that would lead to a funny event.
Speaking of funny, I had the distinct fortune of getting a comedian for a UK customs agent. I told him the purpose of my trip as he looked at my passport. He looked at me and said, "We may have a problem here". I got a little nervous and might have even sweat a little. He said, "You like Gary Numan, I don't think we can let you in the country." He asked what my address in the UK would be at which time Mark shouted down from 3 entry points away asking what our address in the UK would be. I shouted the correct answer which was the hotel we were staying at. After regaling my new customs agent friend with a few verses of "Cars" and proclaiming how long I'd been running the NAGNFC, he says, "Okay, you're making me feel old, go ahead".
Once past that ordeal, our first point of action was to change our cash at one of those Travelex thingies. I like them. You can give them 3 pounds more which buys you an amazing exchange when you eventually change back to your own currency.
After grabbing our luggage off the roundabout, I led the way to the Tube from the airport right to our hotel in the High Street Kensington section of London. It was all new to Mark. I told the guy at the counter I need an all day Zones 1-6 pass. When it was Mark's turn to get his Tube ticket, he would always say, "I'll have what he's having." I was used to going it alone on these 8,000 mile round trip journeys to the UK. I didn't know if I would like having someone along, but witty Mark made it even more lively and fun. My fears were unfounded.
We were lucky with our Tube tix. We were too early to get the discounted day rate, but the guy gave us the discounts anyways. I strolled through the turnstiles with my backpack and duffle bag, with Mark behind me constantly struggling with his monster luggage outfit. Rule number one: Travel Light!! You won't have a car when you get there, and you will be bringing back double the weight with all the souvenirs one eventually buys. Mark would be no exception as will be revealed later!
Our London Underground Tube train took us the 14 miles into central London alternating between tunnels, level ground and high bridges along the way. The plan now was to make sure we had reservations at my favorite London hotel after our 2 free night British Airways hotel stays were over. So we stopped at this awesome hotel that I love in Earl's Court right by the Tube stop. They know me very well there by now. 24 hour security, toast and coffee in the morning, friendly staff, internet available on-site, 4 shared bathrooms, and is a handy place to store your stuff even when you're not staying there. The rooms are small, but pristine, and the low price makes you feel good you're there. We paid ahead for the nights we would be there, then hopped on the Tube again to get to our free rooms at the Thistle at Kensington Gardens. I was excited to stay here. I'd never seen it but I learned that Princess Diana had a place nearby, and it was within walking distance of the Royal Albert Hall which was to host the Tribute to George Harrison the following month which is on the Pay Per View this month on the satellite.
Mark and I got off the Kensington Tube stop to the smells of baked cinnamon goods and the upscale stores of all kinds. I had a cursory map but I wasn't exactly sure how far Dean St. was. I was fairly certain we were going the right way. We walked east about 4 blocks and came across a couple of girls from Australia who looked nearly as lost as we were becoming. Optimistically and foolishly, I asked them where they were trying to get to, faking my nonexistent working knowledge of the London Metro layout. They said they were looking for the Thistle at Kensington Gardens. Crikey! That's where we were going! I shouted "Follow us!!" and I led our merry troupe in the direction I later found out was correct. I knew we were getting close as Hyde Park was coming into view. Suddenly there it was and we were thanked by the grateful girls from Down Under.
The place was impressive. I'd never stayed in a place with a concierge. There were dudes in tails and top hats in the front opening doors for the cab riders.
Our freebie hotel in London
There were no problems at check-in and we hurried up the steps to the room to see what the heck it looked like. This was before we knew there was an elevator in the place! Anyways, the room was pretty standard, but bigger than any hotel room than I'd ever stayed at in London. I didn't get much sleep since Ithaca and the plan was to nap the afternoon away then hit the town in the evening.
We were looking forward to hitting the town though, so off we went. After finding the elevators, we were down and out. Nearby was a statue featuring some dude on a horse by the name of Napier. We walked past some embassies of very small countries and eventually came upon the end of our quest, Harrod's. I'd never been here before and I was looking forward to checking it out. More impressive than its massive size were the price tags on everything. My eyes bugged out more than a few times at these incredibly high prices. Interesting note: Upon entering, the rent-a-cops asked me to hold my backpack rather than wear it on my back. Wouldn't it be easier to steal something if I were holding a backpack? Or maybe they feared I would knock a 2000 pound sterling item off a shelf with it. Anyway, the place was a day trip in itself, the building like a 1940's Macy's in New York City, complete with creaky wood floors, old style restaurants and the red and white striped old-style uniforms on all the staff in the candy room.
I bought some postcards at Harrod's just to say that I bought something there, even though they were being sold for 75p each (about $1.20 US each!).
Mark and I wandered down to Piccadilly Circus where we hit the Tower's and HMV record shops. He became despondent when I grabbed the last of the Rip singles. I was sure they would be available at other such shops on Oxford Street. I was partly right. We looked around the Chinatown section where I bought some sunglasses and T-shirts, then put the brakes on when we saw a TGIF's restaurant. Not exactly the British experience but that food sure is tasty. To my chagrin, our attractive waitress informed me the British TGIF's didn't take part in the GoldPoints program when I flashed my TGIF card. We didn't eat much, getting something small and splitting an appetizer.
It was now dark, and we hit the Tube near our hotel and checked out some really cool clothes shops where I felt my Numan concert wardrobe was in need of an update. We got back to the hotel where Mark showered and watched TV, as I slept more soundly than Elvis that night.
The next morning we kicked back and watched some Spongebob before stepping out to see more of the town. The plan was to go to Oxford St. to check out the cool shops there, then go see the Tower of London. In the huge record shops, I looked over the CDs while Mark drifted to the video game section. To say he is a video game aficionado would be a definite understatement. Ask him anything about any game or console since the beginning of time. He was after some UK only releases.
We paid for our purchases and a left my cargo pants zipper open (can you foresee tragedy here?). Down the street, we hit a food court where I enjoyed a Coke while Mark dropped some money at the Quizno Subs. We found an EB style game store called Game, a national UK chain featuring the latest video game releases. I told Mark he should ask the guy at the counter where we could find some older used games for sale. To my surprise he was too shy to ask him. Eventually I begged the question to the counter help. He was very helpful, saying one of London's best such stores was just down Oxford Street to Rathbone Street. The store he led us to was stunning. Mark was in heaven. He explained he would be a good long while there, so I wandered outside and looked around at some bookstores.
Mark purchased an armload of games and left a happy man. It was still early in the day so we decided to hit the Tower of London. On the way to the Tube stop, we saw the headlines at the newspaper kiosks that read: "London Terror Alert". The Iraq war now seemed imminent and there was an edge in the city. A friend even joked we shouldn't go around telling folks we were American, but I did anyway. As the war seemed ever closer to reality, London and Washington feared for retaliatory possibilities. Not the best time to be traveling. Still, no one ran down the streets screaming the end was near. It all seemed to be business as usual in London Town. The place had gone through WWII and IRA bombings. This was just par for the course and they knew the drill.
But this week as things were coming to a head, and America was asking its citizens to buy plastic and duct tape, Mark's family asked that he come home sooner than planned. My folks had a worry in their voice but tried not to show it. And in fact, this very day I would be taking an oath before my US government in the US embassy. You see, on the way to the Tower Of London on the Tube, I looked down to see my open cargo pants pocket where I keep my passport. I reached inside and found a deep emptiness. My US passport was gone, I was a man without a country.
There was only one thing to do. I had to go to the US embassy to report it lost. Saying nothing to Mark, I pulled out my Lonely Planet guide to get directions there. Mark and I got off at the Tower Of London stop where I stopped him and told him something clearly, calmly and directly, something which would be the catch phrase for the rest of the trip: "There's been a change of plans". And we hopped the Tube and went to our US embassy. When I've told this story to my friends, they are surprised how calm I was under the circumstances. Well, I knew that panicking would not help the situation. Although panic would seem a reasonable response to such an occurrence, I reasoned that the US embassy probably handles situations like mine every day.
The US embassy was easy to find. It was the only one at Grosvenor Square with all the traffic barriers and security guards at the front. Security was friendly as they checked our bags and asked our purpose. Helpfully, they told us we would need new photos made for the replacement passport. They directed us to a nearby chemist that made new passport photos for me instantly for 5 pounds. Mark was upbeat the whole time, and made a bad situation very tolerable. He didn't call me an idiot once though it was deserved. He kept the spirits high throughout the ordeal.
Back at the embassy, security joked they couldn't let me in with my sweatshirt that said "Canada". Once inside the lobby they held my camera and gave me a claim check for it. I always thought that embassies were a little piece of its own country in a foreign land, so I was surprised to hear British accents on all the staff. I was given a form to fill out and put on a paper pile. Then I would wait to have my name called. I was thinking to myself, at least we would be in the UK for a few more days. Getting the replacement would probably take awhile like it did at home, and we would have to come back to grab it.
At the desk, I was asked what happened. Even though I already explained on the form what happened, they probably just wanted to hear my American accent. Luckily, I had my driver's license for ID. I got a polite scolding about carrying the passport around with me. He said it would be expected to carry one around in Libya or Iraq, but not in Britain. I asked him how many dimwits like me they get in there with lost passports. They replace about 3 a day I was told.
I went back to sit with Mark who asked me if I was scolded as I told him what happened. Much to my surprise, he whipped out his passport and shouted, "See? I got mine right here buddy! I carry it everywhere!". Hehe, the staff pretended not to notice. To my infinite amazement, my name was called again very quickly. I was given another passport right there. It was still warm as the lady handed it to me. All it cost me was a quick oral oath to my country, a quicker 80 dollars and a certain degree of embarrassment. It was equally cool and unnerving how easily I was able to get a US passport there. I waved to the security dudes out front as we left. They said, "Bye Canada!" I remarked at least my shirt didn't say Libya. The guards laughed hard at that, and we left to grab some dinner at a great Italian place.
Jenne and Charles from L.A. were picking us up the following morning so we made it an early night. Mark watched TV and listened to music on my minidisc player while I read and fell asleep early. I woke up around 5 am just before Jenne called me from The Big G's place in Essex. They said they would be by around 9:30 am to pick us up to get to the first show in Bristol. I let Mark sleep as I got up to start assembling my outfit for the day. Numanoids commonly wear black to the shows. They are not difficult to pick out of a crowd. I decided to be different and wear all white. Blinding white, dark sunglasses and blonde hair, like a post-modern version of The Machman.
Mark and I stole out around 8:30 to grab some breakfast downstairs, included in the British Airways package deal I scored. We weren't sure if we were allowed the entire length of the breakfast buffet with our free breakfast vouchers, but we helped ourselves with syrupy abandon, and no one complained.
On the way out to present our vouchers to the cashier, I noticed their Point Of Sale brand touch screen computer system and software was the same type I used at work back in New York. Actually, the software was originally invented for use in cashing out patrons of strip clubs. The software was later amended for use in a wide variety of applications. I informed the pretty cashier of this fact who promptly garnered me with a polite, uneasy stare. Not exactly the conversation fare of a 3 star hotel I suppose.
I was getting worried. The big show was tonight in Bristol and it was now nearly 11:30 am and we were still in London. Five minutes before the 12:00 pm checkout, we got a knock on the door. I was looking forward to meeting Jenne again. I hadn't seen her since the show in Anaheim, California in 2001 on the Pure Tour. I opened the door expecting a huge hug, hellos and catching up on stories. It was her, and she had but one word for me: BATHROOM!!!, after which she proceeded to run inside with all speed.
We all hugged, Mark and I grabbed our stuff and we all walked down to the waiting car below piloted by Charles. They apologized for the delay. Admittedly, London is not the easiest city to navigate by auto. I mean, just try finding a road that goes straight for half a mile! Friends in England tell me it's so much cheaper to rent a car to get around the UK, but I'm fine with the trains, tube and coaches!
I was thankful that Jenne drove. Mark and I went in on the costs of the rental car then sat back to enjoy the ride to her CDs of The Smiths and Depeche Mode as the English countryside rushed past. I dug out my snacks for everyone to enjoy. The Hershey's bites were a big hit, as were my Halloween bag of Oreos with the orange spooge in the middle.
We all decided to stay in the same hotel in Bristol. It was an Ibis, pretty central and within walking distance to the show. And Jenne got us a great price. We big a fond adieu as I invited them to my NAGNFC Pre-show party that night. Jenne said she could likely get Mark and I in to see Gary backstage at some point. WOOHOO! Mark and I took to our room and I put the finishing touches on my look.
Mark and I left early to get to the pub near Bristol's Colston Hall where the NAGNFC preshow party would be. Chris and Tina from Birmingham would meet us here to give us our tickets. There were no other Numanoids there when we arrived, so we purchased a couple of drinks and found a table. We were soon greeted by the two Robs. They were a big help to me in finding this place to hold the shindig. We talked about all things Numan when I spotted Chris and Tina at the bar behind me. Chris offered me a beer at the bar (I asked for a Coke instead!) and we all sat down together. Not long afterwards, we were joined by lots of other Numanoids who began to stream in from as far as South Africa.
Chris and Tina from Birmingham, UK, Wayne from South Africa and Mark Darmofal from Pennsylvania, USA at the Bristol NAGNFC Preshow Party
February 8, 2003
The party was going well but I had lots of stuff to give away. I got everyone's attention and began handing out free raffle tickets to win live, rare Numan CDs from several different years. Nearly everyone won a prize that day. My friends stayed behind at the pub to catch a meal, but I left alone. Before heading to the show across the street to get a good spot, I wandered into the nearby Horn and Trumpet pub where I met Andy from North Wales and his lovely wife.
Some of the attendees of the Bristol NAGNFC Preshow Party
February 8, 2003
Inside the Colston Hall were only a handful of 'noids informally sitting on the steps inside the lobby to escape the cold winds. I chatted them up when Wendy and her friends came up to me to thank me for the great NAGNFC website. They say they stop by the site every day for the latest silliness!
Just before showtime, everyone lined up in orderly fashion up a further set of stairs to get inside the hall. Whilst in line I spotted The Big G whom I spoke with for awhile. I got a great spot inside but looked around only to be impressed how small this place was. Gary had played here many, many times over the 80s and 90s, but this was like a school gymnasium, complete with bleachers. I was speaking with Numan fans from around the world when the lights came down to one of Gary's favorite bands, Sulphur.
The music was reminiscent of Nine Inch Nails, and wasn't bad. I don't know if it was the crowd's lack of response or if they were high, but they seemed out of sorts and began thrashing around their equipment all over the stage and even into the front row of the crowd. Seeing a 60 year old Numanoid in the front get his bald head nearly grazed by a flying microphone stand is an image I will take to the grave.
Some of the crowd were thrashing along to the anarchy of it all, whilst many other were flinching at the objects being thrown their way. The crowd in the back must have been laughing at the spectacle and counting their lucky stars they were late to the show.
I spoke with Andy and others before Gary took to the stage. I was so happy to be here. The crowd were loud in their anticipation. There was a lot of dry ice on the stage that night so none of the pictures you will see from that night will be exceptionally clear. But Gary and the band were certainly "on" that night. Steve and Dave were playing their guitars off each other in a way I'd never heard. Richard was spot on as usual. And Ade looked like he was having fun.
There would be a lot of new versions of songs tonight. This was the first time that everyone, including myself, would be hearing the Hybrid versions of Gary's music. Hybrid wouldn't be released until later in the week. And the big surprise was Gary's rendition of "Please Push No More" devoted to Paul Gardiner on this, Gary's 25th Anniversary Tour.
After the show, I spoke with a heaping helping of NAGNFC readers fielding comments and answers to questions. At one point, even my old friend John Gullidge came up to Mark and me to say hello. John was my co-pilot for the west coast Pure Tour shows in the USA. I always regret not taking a picture of Mark and John together, my east and west coast co-pilots.
Outside the rain fell lightly and I met Michael LaFontaine from Montreal, Canada. Michael helped me scope out a place for a NAGNFC Preshow Party in Montreal in 2001. Mark and I saw him off on his cab and we went behind the building to scope out Jenne and Charles. The rain was not only getting harder but changing to freezing rain in a scene reminiscent of Washington, DC in 2001 after the show when fans began to give up and drove away and home. Again, I told Mark I would understand if he wanted to leave early as there was always tomorrow in London. He persevered though and we waited for the duration.
I got to speak with some of the band and The Big G outside. Gary would soon be outside to speak with all of us. We queued up as Gary came out and climbed inside the steps of the bus to speak with us one by one as he did on the Pure Tour. By now, I had my newly acquired 25th Anniversary Tour Shirt over my head for shelter as I stood in line as it moved very slowly. I peeked out from under my Numan shirt to see that Mark and I were next in line! Suddenly, my mind raced thinking of what I would say to Gary.
Mark gave Gary a big "thumbs up" for the show, and told him how we traveled across the ocean to see the show after which I took their picture. When it was my turn, Gary invited me into the bus with a warm "How ya doing, man?" I told him that tonight was one of the best shows I'd ever seen from him. Gary explained that him and the band were pretty tired from all the rehearsals, but that the next night in London would be even better. I told him that if the next night would be better than what I witnessed tonight, I was definitely there! For the rest of the trip, Mark was verbally amazed that Gary actually invited me into the bus!
Still no sign of Jenne and Charles, so Mark and I hightailed it the mile walk back to the hotel. It was quite late and despite the driving, freezing rain there were a lot of revelers about bar hopping and having a good time. I still hadn't eaten dinner, so seeing nowhere to eat, we stopped at a chip wagon at 12:30 in the morning.
Back at the hotel, there was a message on the phone from Jenne. She says they were tired so came back early, but to give them a call when we got in. I tried calling their room but no one picked up. They must have been tired, I thought! It was only 8:30 pm back home, so I called them to let them know I was okay, then had zero problems getting to sleep. The next show tomorrow would be even better, Gary told me. And I smiled as I fell asleep.
Warp to Chapter 2: London (under construction until April/May 2009)