Satch Bus en route to Livorno from Montacini.
Yesterday was, for me, a decisive day.
A good gig. An interesting musical juxtaposition: Buddy Guy into Soundscapes. Buddy blew us all off. He was authentic and powerful on both vocals & guitar. Steve & Billy joined the Soundscapes and were superb. A strong set for Steve. My enjoyment of Joe's set was spoilt by pestering. A fun jam.
Overall: my day was spoilt by the constant harassment, ongoing, without let, backstage and in the public areas.
Festival helpers pestered for autographs & photographs, employing the usual lies. When the music began I went outside of stage left, to watch & listen to the players. Constant pestering. Wherever & whenever it became obvious I would rather not be photographed, surreptitiousness & bad manners took charge of behaviour. The assumptions seem to be:
1. photographers & autographers have the right to demand & receive whatever they want;
2. subjects/objects have no right to decline those demands.
Asking for an autograph I can understand. But when the subject/object is obviously paying attention to a musical performance, how to excuse the fundamental lack of courtesy in interrupting that experience by thrusting a pen & paper at them? The vocabulary of gesture is aggressive & intrusive.
Subjectively, the worst day of this G3 tour for sucking, theft & violation. The disturbance was at a Crimson-show level. In response, a decision: no more.
Today was an event, with much to commend & enjoy as an event, but not a musical event; nor the kind of event to which I can honourably contribute.
Afterwards, a late return to Hotel Tired for suitcases & onto the bus. Later than necessary. The loudly talkative runner got lost on the way, taking a wrong turn into the wrong town while talking excitedly.
08.10 Ferry Livorno > Bastia, Corsica.
Welcome Onboard --
Steve's band have the cabin next door, but I'm a star so I have one all to myself. A Cabin With A View --
In the corridor outside the door, astonishingly loud martial music of a Gallic orientation, presaging loud announcements in a language designed to clear the nasal passages. This gives way to announcements in a language created by God for the King James Bible.
Our three tour buses arrived at the port around five, after perhaps 45 minutes of sleep for me. We waited over two hours until a coach from Corsica came off the ferry around 07.15 to collect us. We didn't know how the rendezvous would take place until it took place. There followed an arising general mayhem getting into contact with the Corsican coach driver (who lacked The Beast's reassuring, calm demeanour & optimistic disposition but shared his passion for sucking on death rolls); getting the entire G3 players, families & crew off the buses & onboard the Corsican coach with luggage and bags; getting the entire G3 players, families & crew off the coach immediately afterwards to walk onboard the ferry; firstly, up 3 floors; secondly, down the same 3 floors; thirdly, up the same 3 floors and then along the corridor and down another floor to cabins. We have four hours available for sleep.
Into bed, and gratefully.
16.30 Hotel Dismal, St. Laurent, Corsica.
A Gallic ferry-enforcer came around at 11.15, knocking on cabin doors to reclaim them for cleaning. What! A bleary team got up and spent one quarter of their journey time waiting for the ferry to land at Bastia around 08.15 --
Then back onto the coach for a ride over the mountains to the western side of Corsica --
-- arriving at the hotel c. 14.00 --
A Room With A View (so far so good) --
Keen eyes will see St. Laurent in the distance. This hotel is nominally in St. Laurent, a town we drove through & looks well worth a promenade & coffee, but too far from here to easily walk in the heat. In the room, the fridge is not turned on.
A Room With Another View, Of The Adjoining Sewage Works --
The chapter of The Happy Gigster's Guide devoted to Hotels, Accommodation & Places To Stay has this warning: any hotel chosen by the promoter will suck. This is an alternative view from my balcony, itself the best part of the room, to the left and over the pool area.
Dribble dribble.
"The foundation of learning is play."
