Don’t worry. We are not going through a psychological period of confusion about our self worth as the title might suggest. And we are not turning into schizophrenics. Even though my continual use of the plural first person might imply otherwise. However, half of Stevie Wonder’s Driving School is starting to get a little anxious. Generally preparations for the Rickshaw Run have been going well. The entry fee has been paid; the paperwork has been sent off; 26% of the funds have been raised; we have looked at a list of stuff we might need; and have glanced at a big map of India. What more can possibly need to be done at this stage??

Well, in the current state of play, 1 of our team members will be attempting to enter Nepal using an expired sports club membership card and a couple of hundred Rupees as baksheesh. This does not mean we are awaiting the legendary efficiency of the Indian government authorities to return a passport. No. It means that the necessary bumf required to acquire such a document has not yet even been placed into their oh-so-capable hands.

I’d love nothing better than to whinge about the bureaucracy of the powers that be and complain that they are not pulling their fingers out. But no doubt I will be able to do that once the paperwork has been sent off to them. I remember a fine, sunny day back in September, when Miss Kehar informed me that she had spent the afternoon completing her passport form. Overjoyed was I to hear this news. Yet, since that day, something has prevented her from taking the next step of placing the sheets of paper in an envelope and dropping it through a letter box.

Of course, everything will be fine, and her passport will surely be ready in the nick of time. But Megha would not be Megha unless she left it ‘til the very last minute and ended up making both herself and me panic.

Adventure, Rickshaw Run, Life, Travel, India | 3 Comments »

We like our music, we do. So it would be irresponsible, if not slightly rude, to keep certain tracks to ourselves. Although it’s not possible to include every good tune we come across in this blog, we thought it might be nice to share at least one good thing that we hear every week. We’re not going to be writing reviews – that is reserved for Megha’s Laidbackness blog. Instead we’ll just post the track up here and tell you that we like it. It might be old, it might be new, it might be covered and it might be blue (for the dads). But whatever it is we hope you enjoy it.

As we mentioned before, this is not a review. However, during the 10 second drum intro, just close your eyes and let the anticipation build. Because when the guitar kicks in with what is seemingly a simple 3 chord sequence it is just awesome – especially after you’ve heard it already, so you know what is coming. And the lyrics, well they just speak for themselves.

Enjoy….

Music | No Comments »

Here at Control Wee there is the philosophy, ‘if someone else wants to do the work for you, then why not let them’. Although we enjoy writing, we are more than happy to publish the rants of others. Delegation, management gurus will tell you, is a key leadership tool. And so we are going to use it whenever possible.

Mark Jones, a friend of CW, has kindly written a post for us. It speaks for itself, so needs no further introduction. Thanks Mark.

I was reading a newspaper article the other night that, once again, was widely condemning the British Broadcasting Corporation.

In another corner of the room, my housemate was leaning forward, his hands were tightly gripping a controller for the Xbox 360, and a look of intense concentration was etched across his face.

For anyone who does not know what an Xbox is: it is Bill Gates latest attempt to dominate the living room space with a next generation games machine.

For entertainment purposes, we also have a Sky television box, a computer and a DVD player with a wide selection of titles. My housemate, whom I shall call Mr X, has spent most of his free time sat at the Xbox, nigh on worshipping its addictive capabilities. Very capable it is too: you can now play poker, chess or any other game with anyone in the world. The small white box, which bears a passing resemblance to the obelisk in 2001, is considered to be the future of entertainment.

The Skybox, DVD player, and most prominently the five main terrestrial television channels are becoming less attractive (and less used) by the minute. Is the Xbox really that great. Or are Sky television et al severely lacking?

Now, back to that newspaper article. It details in length the excessive salaries paid to the BBC staff, taxi cab fairs which would seem excessive even to Caligula, and a general feeling that the BBC treats the licence fee payers with contempt. The words ‘Gravy’ and ‘Train’ are used several times in the article. There is also mention of the competition scandal involving the programme ‘Blue Peter’. Apparently a competition was organised which involved children voting for a name which would be appointed to a Blue Peter cat. The makers of Blue Peter (all fully grown adults) decided against the name chosen by the children, and chose a name they had concocted themselves.

From this you might assume that they had to change the name as the winning moniker was racist or somehow not politically correct. Well, actually, they just felt their name was better. So, yes, fully-grown adults defrauded children. Sad isn’t it?

The newspaper article concludes by stating that morale at the BBC is at an all time low, and that there may be strikes due to staff cutbacks. The cutbacks are needed as apparently the BBC overestimated the amount of money it would receive from the Government (something about spending money before it is in the bank anyone?). There is no mention in the article of how the BBC’s problems can be fixed. You must remember that a lot of journalists highlight problems; they do not suggest how they may be solved.

It might seem that I have a serious gripe with the BBC and that nothing would give me more pleasure than to see them out of business. But this isn’t true.

I admire and love the BBC. I grew up with it and regard it as a friend who taught me about the world, entertained me, and crusaded for peoples’ rights, whether they were in the UK or another continent.

However, something has gone wrong at the BBC of late. It has become a flabby, uncouth old man who is out of touch with modern Britain. It resembles a bullied and confused employee, when it should be the assertive and on-the-ball employer.

Rather than just mouthing off I’ll list my own recent gripes with the BBC now. I’ll even suggest some solutions – I am a licence fee payer after all.

BBC Radio 4

First things first, kick out all those smug useless Oxbridge graduates who have been nowhere and done nothing. Many of them are at the BBC only because of their University connections. Their whimsical reports about how they went to Italy when they were sixteen to get an ice cream are irrelevant, lazy and unimaginative. Get them out and about and tell us what is going on in the world today. Allow them to keep their raspberry-coated boring tales of youth to themselves. Where is the new Alistair Cook? Where is the new John Simpson?

BBC News

I want to see news reporters who look like they have seen some action, not pretty boys with perfect hair or celebrity dolly birds who would look more at home in an issue of ‘Hello’ magazine. Can the BBC not revolve their foreign correspondents and have them cover the news desk once in a while?

While you’re at it, some good news would be a plus. Have you asked people why they have stopped watching news bulletins? Could it be they find the programme content depressing? By good news I don’t mean Paris Hilton’s latest fashion folly or a plug for someone’s book or album. I mean stories about people who are out there doing good for their community, or trying to inspire those around them – go out and find them!

BBC Three and Four, BBC News 24

Scrap them now. They are out of touch, lazy and both about as cutting edge as a spoon. “These are great original services which represent the future of digital broadcasting” the BBC insists on telling us. Since when was putting ‘Rambo: First Blood part two’ on every night of the week original?

Newsnight and Top Gear

Don’t you dare make any changes to these two programmes. You are lucky to have them and they are the only two shows the public like. If anything you should scrap a lot of your new services to increase the budgets of these two programmes.

Digital radio shows

Scrap these. They are a waste of the licence fee and the money would be better spent elsewhere.

BBC web pages

Your BBC news page is the best on the internet and should be expanded. Please don’t waste any money on ‘niche’ web sites that are pompous and irrelevant.

Documentary cut backs

Don’t do it! Shut down your digital television and radio channels – it is time to put your house in order.

Star Power and Star Salaries

Here is the answer to your most publicised problem: YOU the BBC are the employer!

You should not be dictated to by stars or their agents: these people should be bloody grateful you gave them a job. Working for the BBC is an honour and a major boost for anyone’s career. Stars do not guarantee an audience; a quality programme will get a good audience every time. Remember your adaptation of ‘Pride and Prejudice’ back in 1996? For me it was your finest hour. Was it full of bloated, overpaid stars? No it wasn’t. Good material should come first before you start to bend over for star’s salaries. Start with established and popular material such as classic books or reinventions of popular programmes.

On the subject of bloated, we (your audience) are sick and tired of those dinosaurs you keep overpaying. Their eyes are glazed from all the free booze and their waistlines are straining from all the business lunches. Many of them are unkempt, unshaven and nearly as big as the couches they are sat on. Make them walk to work before you pay hundreds of pounds to have them carted up and down the country in a taxi.

There is an argument to say there isn’t any new talent our there. I totally disagree with this. I’m no daytime TV fan, but I think you’ve found a good presenter in Dominic Littlewood. This is a guy who was a used car salesman and has had no formal television training, but he has more charisma in his big toe than many of your RADA trained planks.

There are natural characters working on markets, driving taxis, and fixing boilers. Why don’t you have an X Factor show based on finding new presenters? You want lean and hungry people who will be grateful for the opportunity and won’t demand earth-shattering salaries.

It seems the BBC worries that they would lose their audience if the ‘stars’ left them. How many ‘stars’ leave television shows and end up coming right back? This happens because the programme was bigger than they were. Dragon’s Den has succeeded because of its formula, not its ‘stars’.

So what should the BBC do? Why not install someone radical or generally different? Wouldn’t it be great to see a boardroom full of people who are difficult, blunt, can criticise and most importantly: know what they’re talking about. It would be great to see John Simpson, Jeremy Clarkson, Jeremy Paxman, and anyone else who is either eccentric or has openly criticised the BBC, calling the shots. At the moment they have too many cooks in management, their indifference and the meals they are serving taste rotten.

Also, the BBC should start accepting criticism. BBC employees who criticise their employer should not be told to keep it to themselves. They should be listened to. Why not even have an internal debate about the future?

Conclusion

The BBC are in a period of illness, but there is a cure and the sooner they take their medicine the better. I wish them all the best and hope I see them in good health soon. I hope the BBC starts to listen to what their public says, and most importantly remembers that they are the boss.

Mark Jones

Media, Thoughts | 4 Comments »

We’ve been doing some really serious planning for the Rickshaw Run thing lately.

——————————————————————————————

Megha: On Diwali and Holi, I am a kid on steroids

Andy: I was a kid at Holi, kitted out with full gun and ammunition

Andy: but last night I was the mature onlooker

Andy: that’s something we should get for our Rickshaw Run auto — a super soaker

Megha: Yes!

Megha: Let’s get a super soaker

Andy: not sure who we’d fire it at?

Andy: any little shits who give us grief I suppose

Megha: and bystanders

Megha: and traffic cops

Megha: and YOU!

Megha: and Naxalites in Bihar

Megha: that’ll scare them away

Andy: their automatic machine guns will be no match for the rapid squirt of water that we will emit

Megha: Of course not. Even thinking that it will be is foolhardiness and not optimism on their part.

——————————————————————————————

Sorted. We are packing the Super Soaker with the rest of our luggage

Words, Rickshaw Run, Adventure, Thoughts, Life, India, Travel, Uncategorized | No Comments »

It’s official.

In January 2008, Andy and I are going to be taking the risk of our lives.

We’ll be driving across the length of India right to the mountains in Nepal, in the lamest, most fragile and most breakdown-prone piece of engineering ever made here — the great Indian auto-rickshaw. And this is all for a noble cause — charity.

We need to raise at least a £1000 for the world famous charity org Mercy Corps before this 15-day-long odyssey. We’ll be trying to avoid cutting ourselves open, breaking our heads or crashing into oncoming trucks or a tree or a dog because dogs are nice. We might even have to slay pythons, manoeuvre our way around a mud slide, hang from a cliff until help comes by and all that jazz — all while driving on not so particularly nice Indian roads.

The least you can do is help by donating towards this cause. You may do so by clicking on the widget on the side or here. You can pay as little or as much as you like. We’d be more than thankful. In exchange if you’d like us to stick a picture or spray paint your name or a message for a loved one on our auto or anything crazy, we’d love to do that. We are open to ideas.

Here’s what the awe-inspiring auto-rickshaw and our team logo look like.

Yeah, we’re calling ourselves Stevie Wonder’s Driving School. Some people think it’s clever.

 

Starting from Kochi in south India, we’ll be driving up north, right through the central Indian plateau area and all the way up to the mountains until we cross into Nepal. Since all the teams taking part in this charity race organised by the TheAdventurists.com are free to take any route that they desire, the approximate distance that we are looking at covering within a span of 15 days is at least 4,500 km.

The tentative routes that a lot of people are planning to take are:

If you’d like to get more information on this wicked race and our charity ambitions before you finally click on the ‘PAY’ button, you may directly contact us here: controlwee@gmail.com

 

Rickshaw Run, Sport, Life, Travel, India | No Comments »

Since being in India I have been lazy. In the last 8 months I have only learnt a few words and phrases in Hindi. This is pathetic considering I face a constant struggle communicating with shopkeepers and locals every day. Parts of Delhi have a high proportion of competent English speakers, but Laxmi Nagar is certainly not one of them. So there is no doubt that a knowledge of the language would be particularly beneficial in my current situation. But what do I do instead? I chat to people on messenger; I answer stupid quizzes on Facebook; I download music and re-name my audio files; I watch old episodes of Lost. In fact I do anything which involves not acquiring a new skill.

Similarly, this apathetic attitude has been present in my lack of physical activity. There are no sports facilities near where I live. However, I know that I could easily jump in an auto-rickshaw and be at a decent gym or sports centre within 20 minutes.

So it was that after 6 months of sitting on my arse, entertaining myself in my bedroom, I took some action. I added myself to the Delhi Street Football group on a certain ‘social networking’ website. To my surprise, within a few weeks, someone had invited me to join their team and play in a 7-a-side tournament.

Joining an Internet-based group that involved talk of legging it around a field after a pig’s bladder had been a big step for me, so actually leaving my flat and doing it was a massive mental and physical leap. Somehow I managed to talk myself into the idea and found myself stood outside Jawaharlal Nehru Stadium at 3.30 last Saturday afternoon. Amazingly, my contact was there before me with a couple of his friends and the ‘coach’.

It is rare that anyone native to India arrives before me to any kind of social meeting, so I immediately became optimistic that this would be a well run, efficiently organised team. The training session began and an hour later the 5 of us were still stood in a circle passing the ball to one another, with no sign of anyone else turning up. When I suggested that we might want to vary things a bit by using a goal they all seemed surprised, but went along with this strange idea. Throughout this training session ‘coach’ had been sat on a chair under an umbrella to shield himself from the sun, while sipping cold drinks and chatting to the people around him. He was too far away to see what we were doing and made no attempt to communicate with us at all.

A little while later a couple more people turned up, which gave us a team of 7. Suddenly someone realised that we wouldn’t be able to have a game of 7 a-side football with just one team. It was then that they decided to take the ‘initiative’ and ask some other guys hanging around if they would form a team to play against us. So, almost 2 hours after we were supposed to start playing, a game finally got underway.

A few minutes after kick off ‘coach’ decided to amble over and sit himself comfortably somewhere near the sidelines. But he still didn’t feel motivated to say a word to any of the players for the duration of, or after, the match. His laidback approach tended to mirror the organisation of the team on the pitch. As anyone who is mildly interested in football will know, if everyone on your team chases after the ball, as well as being extremely tiring, it is not tactically effective. All the players on my team loved to run forwards and attack, but as soon as the opposition won the ball from them it was amazing how quickly their energy drained away. Thus leaving muggings here to try and prevent 4 marauding attackers from penetrating our leaky defences.

Now and again, on their sweeping runs forward, the other team actually missed the target instead of scoring, and gave us a goal kick. But what use is having the ball if you are going to just kick it as hard as possible without any direction every time!? I screamed and I shouted, but still the goalkeeper booted it with all his might, as if he was trying to show off, instead of passing it to one of his own players; and still my team mates continued to gambol forward enthusiastically and limp back lackadaisically.

I must admit I thoroughly enjoyed this game of footy – my first for many months. The blokes on both teams were nice guys and I look forward to next time. After all, what is football if you can’t shout at your team mates, run around like a headless chicken and generally let off steam?

Sport, India | No Comments »

We at Control Wee never used to like poetry. We used to think it was boring, dull and, if we’re honest, completely pointless. At school it was only the geeks and the gays that used to take any kind of interest in this area of English. The only ‘poems’ that could hold our attention for more than a couple of seconds had to meet certain criteria. They were not allowed to be more than 5 lines long, had to contain rude rhyming words and make no sense whatsoever.

So, imagine our surprise when we stumbled across two poems which made us stop in our tracks and re-think our whole philosophy on poetry. Maybe this sudden appreciation of the genre was something to do with maturing as we get older. But there are so many other signs to indicate we are not yet able to claim a place at the grown ups table that this can’t be the case. Instead, we like to think that these odes are so good they would make anyone catch their breath.

Written by Perls, a Gestalt psychologist, this ‘prayer’ shows the author’s belief that people should concentrate on satisfying their own needs. If you do this and meet someone then it’s cool. If not, then you can still be happy.

Gestalt Prayer

I do my thing and you do your thing.

I am not in this world to live up to your expectations,

And you are not in this world to live up to mine.

You are you, and I am I, and if by chance we find each other, it’s beautiful.

If not, it can’t be helped.

(Fritz Perls, 1969)

Three years later another psychologist came up with a rejoinder to Perls’ verse. He seems to disagree with the sentiments of the first poem, saying that it is important not just to focus on yourself, but to look to the other person and how you relate to each other. I don’t want to say too much as it’s open to interpretation, so take a look yourself.

A Gestalt Poem

If I just do my thing and you do yours,
We stand in danger of losing each other
And ourselves.

I am not in this world to live up to your expectations;
But I am in this world to confirm you
As a unique human being,
And to be confirmed by you.

We are fully ourselves only in relation to each other;
The ‘I’ detached from a ‘Thou’ disintegrates.

I do not find you by chance; I find you by an active life
Of reaching out.

Rather than letting things passively happen to me,
I can act intentionally to make them happen.

I must begin with myself, true;
But I must not end with myself;
The truth begins with two.”

(Tubbs W. 1972. Journal of Humanistic Psychology, (12) 5 Beyond Perls)

Poetry, Words, Thoughts, Life | No Comments »

So, although the Scottish duo I refuse to name anymore got this music event off to a not-so-musical start, their performance lived up to everyone’s low expectations. Their legendary party classic managed to encourage a few people to join in vocally for the first couple of minutes. But it failed to inspire the kind of sing-along we have become used to at the end of a heavy night, with arms are draped over mates’ shoulders and the feelings of solidarity and brotherhood coursing through our veins as we raise our voices in unison. I have no doubt that the lack of inebriation had something to do with this.

A little later an artist of a completely different calibre took the stage. Hailing from Scotland, Paolo Nutini was a great choice to occupy the Saturday mid-afternoon slot. At just 20 years old his voice has a maturity and husky vibrance which can captivate the mood of slow ballads as well as more upbeat tunes. With most people now supping their 2^nd or 3^rd beer of the day his music had a real relaxing effect. Even though a few of his songs could depress if you listen to the lyrics, this didn’t seem to matter – people were just enjoying the melodies. And when the first few chords of New Shoes were struck, pockets of people all around the arena could be seen dancing some kind of thigh slapping Western jig, cowboy hats and all. While some might claim that Nutini has been forced into the mainstream by his music label, his current brand of music seemed to hit the spot as the sun began to shine on Hylands Park. He’s obviously talented as he can sing, and play, music from several different genres effectively. Here’s hoping that he is allowed to demonstrate his versatility and true talent in the future rather than being forced to write music that his bosses assume the fans want to hear.

The weekend spent at V was pretty intense. Not only did we have to stand up for 12 hours a day listening to bands, but we were also required to drink copious amounts of beer and consume numerous whopping ½ pound burgers with everything on. It’s a hard life. The point I’m trying to make here is that, although I’d love to write about all 20-something bands I saw, it will just take me too long to do. So I’ll just pick out a couple more that stood out.

Pete Doherty always seems to be in the news for the wrong, or right, depending on your point of view, reasons. Not a week goes by when he is not arrested for alleged drug abuse, possession of illegal pharmaceuticals, assault, theft or something along these lines. I don’t think it was anything to do with his offstage antics, but I had never really paid much attention to him musically, either when he was in The Libertines, or now he is the front man of Babyshambles. So when my mate suggested we go and have a listen I wasn’t too keen. But based on the fact that I had decided our complete itinerary so far, it seemed a little unfair to turn down his one request.

So it was that I found myself surrounded by trilby-wearing cockneys. As we awaited the arrival of the ‘shambles on stage I must admit my expectations were not particularly high. However, as soon as Doherty ambled out I realised I was going to enjoy their set. Bottles, glasses, cans and indeed anything that could contain liquid for more than a few seconds started raining down on him. Oh what joy to see someone who continually gives it out getting it back for once. All those taking part in the pelting seemed like avid fans of his so I couldn’t quite work out why they were intent on attacking him. Even more confusing was the fact that people were willing to waste their partially consumed beers. Maybe retaliation was what they were looking for. If that was what they wanted, then that’s what they got. Mid-set one beverage appeared to land on its mark. I half expected Doherty to throw it back or get in a strop and march off stage. But he didn’t. Instead he took revenge by …………….. throwing his guitar at the audience. From where I was stood I couldn’t see if it made contact with anyone, but I was pleased to note the ingenuity he had used when picking his weapon. I expected the instrument to be gone forever, carefully secreted down someone’s pants. So I was amazed when a security guy appeared from amidst the crowd carrying it like a prized possession. During the remainder of the set Doherty lashed his microphone stand and microphone into the crowd and, on at least one occasion, spat on those at the front. All in all it was a thoroughly enjoyable show and demonstrated to me the bond that can exist between a performer and his audience. And, I must say, the music wasn’t bad either.

Although The Killers, The Kooks, Kasabian and Jet were all awesome, the last band I want to talk about has a lot more history than all these put together. Exactly a week before the start of V this year, Tony Wilson passed away. In Manchester and the North West of England he is considered nothing less than a legend for his contribution to the music scene over the last thirty years. So much so that there is even talk of erecting a statue of him in the city centre. The band most closely, and inextricably, linked with him are, of course, the Happy Mondays. In their early days the Mondays were groundbreaking with their fusion of indie rock and house music testing waters that had not been entered previously. It was obviously effective. And the fact that they can still get people dancing to the same tunes 17 years after the release of Pills ‘n’ Thrills and Bellyaches is testament to the influence they have had for the last two decades.

Shaun Ryder still has the same distinctive voice that made him famous all those years ago. Looking at the man tells a different story though. He’s filled out substantially, seems perpetually tired and sat down while singing the majority of his songs. Paradoxically though, listening to Kinky Afro, Loose Fit and the unforgettable Step On, the energy he created with his voice was tangible and reminiscent of The Hacienda days. This was undoubtedly aided by the relentless enthusiasm and commitment shown by the Mondays iconic resident prancer, Bez. With Ryder less than a week away from turning 45 we can’t expect him to be in peak physical condition. But what we do want is someone who can inspire us to dance and sing along to his music. And he does a damn good job of that.

Other bands at V 2007 (in no particular order):

Jet, New Order, Rodrigo y Gabriela, The Coral, The Killers, The Kooks, Kasabian, Foo Fighters, Kanye West, Manic Street Preachers, Primal Scream, McFly, Seth Lakeman, Pink, James, The Editors, Basement Jaxx, Damien Rice, Mika, KT Tunstall, Ocean Colour Scene, The Fray, Sophie Ellis Bextor, The Goo Goo Dolls, James Morrison, The Cribs, The Fratellis

And as a tribute to Tony Wilson…..

Life, Music | 1 Comment »

When I first considered writing a review on V 2007 I thought it would be a piece of piss. During the 2 days of music and 3 days of drinking so much takes place that there was no doubt in my mind it would be easy to knock up a decent post. But when I sat down and started recalling the weekend, the realisation hit me that it would actually be a tricky job.

When you go to a standard gig it is only necessary to comment on the main band, while possibly reserving a sentence or two for the warm up act(s). But a festival is a different kettle of fish. At this kind of event you are combining 3 days of tomfoolery in a massive field with a choice of well over 100 artists to listen to.

The first big decision it’s necessary to make on arriving at the venue is where to pitch the tent. The spot you pick needs to be situated close to the stage-end of the field, while being as far away from the portaloos as possible. This is irrelevant at Glastonbury as anyone attending that particular festival expects, and in fact craves, to get covered in shit. It’s all part of the experience and if they go home smelling of anything other than a cesspit they are disappointed. The festival-goers at V, I feel, are a slightly different breed. Here all the girls walked around in pretty pink Wellington boots and belt skirts, not in the hope or expectation that they would get their feet dirty, but because they thought it was the kind of look one should have at such an event. At Glastonbury a pair of trainers with their soles hanging off would have been substantial and robust enough to deal with torrential rain and flooded fields. Of course, I should remind myself that I was at the Hylands Park venue, in Essex, this time and perhaps that had something to do with the scanty attire of the ladies. I seem to remember everyone wearing a lot more clothes when I went to the Stafford venue a few years ago and it was a damn sight hotter.

Having pitched the tent and cracked open the first of many canned beverages it’s then time to make the second decision. Which bands should we watch? Sitting in a circle under our gazebo were about 10 people, representing a cross section of society. So, it was obvious that we would all have different priorities when it came to our favourite artists. What was certain right from the start, though, was that all present had their hearts set on seeing The Proclaimers early doors on the Saturday.

The next day, 5 minutes into The Proclaimers’ set everyone was getting restless. A few thousand people had gathered to hear them with only one thing on their mind. And of course, that was to get some beer. But the queue for the beer tokens was so long that all present were having to put up with “Wee Jimmy”, or whatever this band’s latest drivel is called, without being the slightest bit intoxicated.

Oh I’m sorry, please ignore the last two sentences. That was supposed to say, the one thing everyone had on their mind was to hear “I would walk 500 miles by The Proclaimers. This is the only song anyone knows by this band, so predictably they left it until the end. I’m sure this was not because it is good to finish on a high note, but rather due to the fact that everyone would have left the arena if they had played it any earlier.

Obviously The Proclaimers were recruited to the V line-up as a novelty piece. A way of setting a benchmark of comparison for the rest of the weekend. It was a shrewd move by the organisers to put them on one of the main stages first. They knew that when any other bands played thereafter, the very least anyone would say was “well, they’re better than The Proclaimers.” Against them, every artist would appear good. That is, except for Mark Ronson.

I’ll post the rest of the V review in a day or so (with more musical content next time).

And as a tribute to The Proclaimers….

Life, Music | No Comments »

It’s official. I’m excited. The reason? I’ve found some people who think a bit like I do. I’m sure those of you who know me are utterly shocked to discover this, but it’s true.

Who are these people, you might ask. And what deficiencies can they possibly have which allows me to state I have something in common with them. Well, quite simply, they are some guys who have traveled around the world and, although they enjoyed themselves immensely, came back thinking that something was missing.

I can’t claim to have been all around the world, but I’ve stopped off in a few countries during my time away from the UK. I’ve had awesome experiences in almost every country I’ve visited (sorry Bulgaria). However, when I heard about these folks, I could instantly relate to what they were talking about. They have the nerve to claim that people who go ‘travelling’ nowadays aren’t really doing it in the way God intended it. They think that, since the advent of Lonely Planet and other guide books, travelling has become staid and, dare I say it, a tad boring. To say boring might be dubbing it down too much, but predictable certainly sums it up. Guide books tell you what you’re going to see before you get there.

As a result of this kind of thinking The League Of Adventurists was born. Their philosophy is, “the world has been discovered, so we need to go out there and make it more interesting.”

I suppose I should explain why I’ve said all the above. Having a group of people thinking in this way is no good unless someone takes the initiative and turns it into action. Well, that is exactly what these crazy kids do. They think of a ridiculous idea for travelling from one place to another – something which mentally stable people would not even consider – and do it. Simple as that.

Lots of events have either already taken place or are currently in the pipeline, in countries such as Morocco, Mongolia, Vietnam and Jordan. All these trips seem great, but what has really got my interest is The Rickshaw Run in India.

The theory behind this event is very simple. Take a 3-wheeled vehicle, with an engine, that is half the size of a Reliant Robin and drive it 2,500 miles across India…… in two weeks! The more quick-witted of you might realise that this equates to just 178 miles per day. But how many of you have ever tried driving an auto-rickshaw that kind of distance in a day – outside of a major city!?

Around 70 teams will take part in this rally, which will start on 1^st January next year.

So the guys who say that travelling should be spontaneous and not arranged have gone ahead and organised a two week intensive travelling event. Are they hypocrites? Absolutely not.

The journey, from Kerala in South India to Kathmandu in Nepal, has no particular itinerary. The participants can take absolutely any route they like. This could potentially take them through deserts, across vast plains, up and down mountains and even off-road. It’s no holds barred. Anything goes. Accommodation, of course, is not provided or arranged beforehand. Each team takes their pick – tent, hotel or rickshaw. If any of the vehicles break down during the fortnight of fun the participants can rest assured that organisers will NOT assist them in any way. It’s either get the locals to help or fix it yourself.

It sounds like the perfect tonic for masochistic maniacs with a penchant for near-death experiences. Anyone who takes part in this sort of venture surely doesn’t value their life very much.

By the way, did I mention that I signed up for it yesterday.

Rickshaw Run, Life, Travel, India | 2 Comments »