Loaded with cold I cycled home from work utterly devastated that the gig I'd looked forward to all year was going to be ruined by this wonderfully timed poorlyness. I could only pray that overnight it would clear up a little, thus giving my voice some range to cope with our set for the Heart & Soul rally, Gosforth race course, the following evening. Saturday morning I awoke sweltering and staggered, spluttering, into the bathroom, where seeing my own reflection shocked me into almost full consciousness. After nibbling breakfast and guzzling gallons of green tea and honey, I ventured to Nixons gaff, finding him sprawled on the doorstep like a fallen pisshead, when in fact he was just trying to find a comfortable sitting position due to nasty back issues he's been battling with lately. We literally 'stuffed' his laguna with music and camping gear and embarked on our sunshine blessed adventure to Gosforth. We planned to meet the others at Washington Services and drive together from there to the venue. We almost didn't make Washington, as some muppet in a black jeep pulled out right in front of us with literally 6mm of clearance. My plan to keep my voice usage to a minimum was now over at this point, as my scream was only audible to nearby canines whilst almost pulling the roof of the car in on itself by the 'Jesus handles'. Wayne, seething, stayed right up his arse for a couple of miles, letting the jeep owner know exactly how livid he was. We made it in one piece to the services and stocked up on essential 'Gibbo batteries' (RedBull's) before collectively motoring to the bike rally, whilst on the way Wayne and I almost perished again when a red VW Polo replicated the same manoevre by the afformentioned jeep. This time Waynes rage inspired him to hold the deafening two tone horn in for almost three minutes to "make sure he heard the f***er!". On arrival to the bash we parked up and asessed the situation, sorting our passes, access to stage etc. Discovering in horror that we had to walk miles with the heavy equipment, whereas, if we'd hung on a few more minutes arrangements were being made to have areas cleared to get our cars in much closer....nevermind....we got there in the end. Now the gear was all in, set up, we were ready to sound check, so I cranked up the Ashdown combo that John boy kindly loaned me for the gig, as my rig's playing up currently, and thumped away, delighted with the sound, as was Wayne, revelling in its "ringy dingy ganga changa"-ness, the sound he loves so much from a bass guitar, unlike Mallly who moaned perpetually about being deafened by Steve Harris for most of the set....rich, coming from the guy who makes our lugs bleed with his new Black Star guitar pedal, which resembles a crematorium for toy soldiers ha ha. Soundcheck went swimmingly and the lads operating the P.A. were good crack, having Mal and I in kinks with a tale about a mate of theirs waking up from a night on the lash, ringing up for help not knowing where was (nothing out of the ordinary there), going on to say he was in some small Chinese guys flat. (hmmmm....). When asked where the chinese bloke was at that moment, he explained that the oriental gentleman was on his lap. Before divulging further, Mal and me scurried off to see how the others were getting on with the tents. All being well in the accomodation department, we all headed back to the main room and prepared for the gig, meeting some of the other musicians on the bill who had now arrived, Bon Jordi and Central Park (who had played earlier on the afternoon and sounded really good). The lads began digging into the free beer, I, sensibly, stayed on water for the time being, but planned on having a couple of beers after our set. The time came to go on and I was dissapointed at how many were in to watch us, but, to be fair, with the weather being as glorious as it was, who wouldn't want to make the most of it. The room filled as we continued to play and people were dancing and enjoying themselves which was reassuring. We got really good feedback from people too, much appreciated. After our final number we quickly cleared the stage, making way for Bon Jordi's gear. We then proceeded to take full advantage of the alco-buffet. Before popping over to watch a band in the other bar, near the entrance to the racecourse. They sounded good, I think they were called Roosters, I could be wrong. When we came out, Wayne and myself followed Paul and Mal's recommendation and sampled one of 'Dwight Pork's' swine sandwiches. this was a small bun spread with stuffing and a sprinkling of roast pork shavings, a steal for £4 !!!! We headed back to the main room and caught some of Bon Jordi's set and the 'exotic dancers' before gargling another nine or so tins and meeting Tommy and the Oddballs, the final band of the weekend, who were excellent, and really nice blokes too. We're hoping to see them again asap. After having more drinks and teaching the clown/entertainer my wookie impersonation, who I might add took his lesson very seriously, we staggered off to our tents. With the volume of our screaming and laughing, topics of discussion etc. It's no wonder some lady in a VERY nearby tent roared at us to shut up. You really had to be there to know just how funny that was! I got next to no sleep at all due to the sheer magnitude of snoring from Wayne and Mal and the fact that Mally was up at least three times, outside relieving himself, (of urine....for you filthy minded folk), waking everyone up with his clumsy, drunken crawling and muttering, which was actually rather funny. During the early hours I had to take a very long walk to the toilets, since I couldn't no.1 on the same wall Mal had been no.2ing on throughout the night, despite his suggestion. ( the sandwich from earlier could've been responsible). Whilst in the toilets, I'm sure some guy in the next cubicle collapsed or something, because as I left, I recall seeing a hand poking out from under the door and a deep, scottish voice saying something along the lines of " didnee worry aboot meh a'm'aaahhl rate" before a sequence of loud coughing and sounds of vomiting. A good night then I assumed, before returning to the tent, that absolutely reeked of Mals lethal pumps. Wayne and I are going to be tasting that stench for weeks no doubt, much to Mal's amusement I'm sure. Next morning (this morning) we went for breakfast at a popular fast food restaurant, where Paul ordered a McBanquet and the lads guessed theme tunes saved in my mobile phone while we ate. My ribs are still aching from when Mal shouted 'Bottin' Moon' at the top of his voice, inspiring concerned looks from other diners. After packing up the tents, having water poured down the cracks of our arses and laughing at Johns repeated attempts to make his sleeping bag fit in its sack, we set off home to ride out our hangovers, the trophies of a fantastic night playing the Heart & Soul rally for the geordie chapter of the harley owners group. I can only hope we get to do it again another year!

Thanks for all the great feedback, and special thanks to those involved with giving us a chance to be a part of this awesome event!

Gibbo.