Crier Profile - Tamworth Country Festival
Concluding part of Andrew Noyes Australian Diary.
On the Tuesday evening we drove out in to the country to have dinner with
Sophie's fiancé and his parents. It wasn't the outback but it was
certainly remote - down a long dusty track with several sets of gates to keep
in the cattle. Like many bungalows built on slopes in OZ - and they are
everywhere! - theirs was propped up on posts and girders. Slightly alarming
floors - and I don't drink much! - but the space underneath the building is
useful storage.
We had a bar-b-que - no surprises there - and then sat in the dark under the stars, including the Southern Cross, waiting for the moon to come over the ridge. Magic. The cicadas were on form.
The following evening, after Gig No. 6, we visited a rather eccentric but generous doctor and his famous painter wife, Michelle Hungerford. Our hosts' bungalow the night before was remote, and so was the Hungerford's, but for different reasons. Their huge abode - also propped up - was perched on the top of the big hill over looking Tamworth. Some view!
Their swimming pool was a real bonus after 2 3/4 hours on stage. A tour of Michelle's studio and her working canvasses was followed by a great meal and some more playing. Sore fingers! Phil Hungerford, like me I suspect, is a frustrated musician wanting to burst out of his suit of respectability. He has played with Slim Dusty, I will have you know! Great people.
Towards the end of the 10 days more and more were we approached by punters who had seen us on stage. Because they stared at us for 2 hours didn't mean however that we stared back at them! It was as if we were their best mates - total strangers treating you like long lost friends. Curious thing celebrity. The ones that don't approach are the ones you would prefer to talk to, I was told!
Gigs 8, 9 and 10 were great. We had gelled, we had our spot, felt comfortable on stage, the audiences were growing even when the buses came at 4 o'clock to take people back to their camp sites, we played like demons, sold lots of CDs and finally I was feeling better. The weather was kind which meant it wasn't baking hot. In fact the OZ summer was unusually cool and wet this year.
During the last few days I got to know Dave and Leanne Craswell better, so much so that I passed on to Dave my chest infection! I had flown 10,500 miles to the other side of the world to play my geetar - how silly was that! - and could have ended up anywhere sleeping on a floor, but I was blessed to stay in a proper house on 2 floors with oak trees outside, living with the kindest people you could hope for. Thank you Lord.
The 9th gig was the saddest for it was almost the end. There was a 10th but that was wind down. As glad as I was to be going home, I was sad to be leaving. It was all over.
Ever seen a fruit bat? A big, brown, scary fruit bat? Well, there were thousands in the trees next to the Motel in Singleton on our way back to Sydney on the Sunday evening. Unsettling! Blood dripping from the pines and all the locals wandering around with glazed eyes and scarves around their necks.. .. .. .. .. ..
At Sydney airport I bought 'local' pressies - no budgie pouches! - to bring home but subsequently discovered they were made in China. Globalisation! The Aussies sell huge amounts of coal to the Chinese and it's shipped out of their big coal port on the East coast called.. .. .. Newcastle!
Jet lag from 23 hours non-stop travelling in the dark is difficult - never experienced it before - but the huge golden temple in Bangkok airport at 3 a.m. was pretty memorable. In a brand new all ultra modern high tec airport!
Did I enjoy it? Most of the time. Would have been better to have felt less poorly but the germ sharing policy on long haul flights is clearly working. The folks were great and the experience special. I visited a country that I would otherwise have never seen, doing something I love. Didn't make any money but our fees covered the costs, so can't complain. Would I go again? Yes, but with a face mask and I would be more prepared for the rock n roll life style of the travelling muso - read Eric Clapton's autobiography. Will I be allowed out again? Only if I eat my greens every night and hoover for England. Time will tell!