Kiwifolk.com
Folk and Acoustic Music in New Zealand
Folk and Acoustic Music in New Zealand
There's a tetchiness now among us after five weeks on the road. Little things that have irritated us subliminally bubble to the surface occasionally, words said or not said are misconstrued, construed and occasionally strued. Things are much mitigated when we celebrate John's birthday with a cake from a bakery in Nibe, but in general there's a sort of post-tour crankiness. Everyone misses their families and gifts are consantly reassessed for their adequacy. Luggage is still a concern, extra CDs and memorabilia we've aquired have added to the weight. I pack 9 kilos of clothing, books, guitar leads and accessories into a cardboard box and mail it home at a cost of NZ$100. But my situation is a little different: while the others are heading home, I'm meeting my family in Scotland so I have to be able to carry everything on my back.
We are in Halkær in the very North of Denmark and the lads fly out from Frankfurt, 3 days (we decide) South. We decide to take up Hans and Karen's offer of accommodation in Haderslev. I fly out from Hamburg in two days time, Ryan Air. Remember Ryan Air?
As it happens Hans and Karen are on holiday on an island about 100km away, but their eldest son, Anders, was under instruction to look after us. In his own words, "When your own father orders you to have a party, what can you do but obey!"
We wandered around the familiar streets of Haderslev, the town we'd been to and through some three or four times now. Anders and half a dozen of his friends, all around 18 years of age, guided us aged musicians around the various restaurants until we settled on an Arabian pizza restaurant (this is Denmark!). I can't begin to describe the level of maturity of these teenage boys. Most of them spoke good English, there was no embarrassment at hanging out with 4 foreigners their parents' age. Conversation and humour was easy and comfortable and their sense of fun mixed with "host responsibility" was amazingly assured. We all returned to the homestead where we watched the football semi-final of Germany and Italy. The boys taught me a drinking game called "Meyer" which involved a couple of dice; and it was interesting to me that their focus was on the game itself and there was no compulsory chugging of beer, nor any of the bravado usually associated with young (and not so young) males and alcohol.
The next morning we awoke to serious breakfast smells, and there were Hans and Karen who'd driven 100km in the early morning to see us and say goodbye! Unbelievable. Not only was it lovely to see them, it was also damn fortunate because a casual conversation with them about me flying out tomorrow from Hamburg alerted them to our misconception about where the airport was. Remember, I'm flying Ryan Air. What Ryan Air calls Hamburg is actually Lubeck, a town about 100km away from Hamburg. This was a well-averted disaster, because timing was everything now - I had to be dropped off near the airport in sufficient time for the other Chaps to get to Frankfurt later that day - they had to dissolve the vehicle, meet up with young Madelief and all check in for the flight home, all mission-critical and timing-crucial stuff. Arriving in Hamburg would've been disastrous. As it happened Lubeck proved to be a final European treat.
The Chaps are Hyram Ballard, John Dodd, Marcus Turner and Mike Moroney (the author of these pages), an acoustic string band featuring original songs and odd material from last century. Find out more about The Chaps here and listen to some of their music on their MySpace site here
