Summer Solstice once again on this rocky outcrop. As usual that can only mean one thing, rain. It rained and it rained and I couldn’t help thinking of this day last year (Summer Solstice). The morning started with the Captain’s Prize. Tee time 06:52. The rain gods presumably were waiting for me to leave the house as when I peered out the window from the bed it was dry. On with the wet gear, sure it will have to stop, the forecast was for rain in the afternoon but for a beautiful morning. But stop it didn’t. Noah would have been impressed with this. Four hours battling around the mountain and it didn’t stop for a second; not a single second. The score card was like trying to write on papier-mâché. I had to wring my glove out like a sponge on every hole. Total misery. Later while still trying to dry myself out, I received a text to say that the whole thing was cancelled…..great.
We spent the afternoon examining the Rainfall Radar to predict if this deluge would stop before the Eric Clapton concert in Malahide Castle. This has become a favourite pastime for the Irish nation. Traditionally known for their keen interest in all things metrological, the ability to now track frontal troughs as they pass over the country has been a marvellous addition for the amateur weather forecaster. Following the success of our Radiohead experience a couple of weeks ago, we had visions of sitting out on the grass again in the blistering sunshine listening to Tears from Heaven, not actually experiencing them! Now all we could think of was…Mudstock.
There was nothing for it but to don the already soaked wet gear for the second time in a day and head to Malahide. We were accompanied once again by Daragh and Rosemary who were also appropriately dressed in his and hers matching sou'westers. Any inclination to accidentally forget going to the castle and stay in the dry warm Orangerie Restaurant were quickly dispelled by Sharon when she reminded us that the tickets were €80 a pop. Come hell or high water (both a real possibility) we were going to that gig. On the plus side, Rosemary kindly drove so there was no need to worry about how to get home this time.
On the way down to the Castle there was a terrific buzz. Ladies dressed in designer wellies and everyone head to toe in waterproofs. Ah, the joy of the outdoor summer concert season in Ireland. No umbrellas allowed mind you, there was a huge pile of them at the entrance; I wonder how many were reunited with their owners? Mr Clapton appeared just before 8. He thanked us all for “sticking around”, just as well he hadn’t spotted that most of us had just arrived. That was his last attempt at crowd interaction for the entire night. In the middle of the third song the heavens opened and there was a great cheer. Then a biblical style miracle, the clouds parted and blue skies appeared. It was truly a sight to behold. I could even see the sun at one stage and I was very pleased to note the Aiken Promotions had obviously read my previous blog on where not to site your stage.
It dawned on us that we didn’t know many of Mr Clapton’s songs but nonetheless the guitar rifts were fabulous. Eventually one came along that we did know, Layla, but half way through the sound system failed. Eric didn’t seem to notice and continued to dance his fingers up and down the fret board. The only other song we knew was “You look wonderful tonight” and at least the speakers held firm for that one.
The number of bars and toilets were far less than at Radiohead which meant the queues for both were longer. The pints were 10% more expensive (€5.50) but they also were selling little bottles of wine for a wallet shrinking €6. He finished after and encore at 10 and we all left to make our passage through the woods, safe in the knowledge that this time we would have no problem with the great escape.
We spent the afternoon examining the Rainfall Radar to predict if this deluge would stop before the Eric Clapton concert in Malahide Castle. This has become a favourite pastime for the Irish nation. Traditionally known for their keen interest in all things metrological, the ability to now track frontal troughs as they pass over the country has been a marvellous addition for the amateur weather forecaster. Following the success of our Radiohead experience a couple of weeks ago, we had visions of sitting out on the grass again in the blistering sunshine listening to Tears from Heaven, not actually experiencing them! Now all we could think of was…Mudstock.
There was nothing for it but to don the already soaked wet gear for the second time in a day and head to Malahide. We were accompanied once again by Daragh and Rosemary who were also appropriately dressed in his and hers matching sou'westers. Any inclination to accidentally forget going to the castle and stay in the dry warm Orangerie Restaurant were quickly dispelled by Sharon when she reminded us that the tickets were €80 a pop. Come hell or high water (both a real possibility) we were going to that gig. On the plus side, Rosemary kindly drove so there was no need to worry about how to get home this time.
On the way down to the Castle there was a terrific buzz. Ladies dressed in designer wellies and everyone head to toe in waterproofs. Ah, the joy of the outdoor summer concert season in Ireland. No umbrellas allowed mind you, there was a huge pile of them at the entrance; I wonder how many were reunited with their owners? Mr Clapton appeared just before 8. He thanked us all for “sticking around”, just as well he hadn’t spotted that most of us had just arrived. That was his last attempt at crowd interaction for the entire night. In the middle of the third song the heavens opened and there was a great cheer. Then a biblical style miracle, the clouds parted and blue skies appeared. It was truly a sight to behold. I could even see the sun at one stage and I was very pleased to note the Aiken Promotions had obviously read my previous blog on where not to site your stage.
It dawned on us that we didn’t know many of Mr Clapton’s songs but nonetheless the guitar rifts were fabulous. Eventually one came along that we did know, Layla, but half way through the sound system failed. Eric didn’t seem to notice and continued to dance his fingers up and down the fret board. The only other song we knew was “You look wonderful tonight” and at least the speakers held firm for that one.
The number of bars and toilets were far less than at Radiohead which meant the queues for both were longer. The pints were 10% more expensive (€5.50) but they also were selling little bottles of wine for a wallet shrinking €6. He finished after and encore at 10 and we all left to make our passage through the woods, safe in the knowledge that this time we would have no problem with the great escape.
3 comments:
5.50 a pint..... O my god. Good to see Sharon is a knock off me own block I'd be the same 80 euro a ticket too right you'd be going and not sitting in some posh bistro called after a fruit.
Sounds like it was an interesting night
see what happens when you moan about a golden orb in the sky blocking your view!!!!! Be careful what you wish for!!
Good to hear Jim Aitken paid attention to your blog regarding the location of the stage. If only he'd had your advice regarding the "song recognition factor" on hand when Andrea Bocelli played Malahide, he might have suggested a few tunes in English, so the punters could sing along.
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