While I should have kept some kind of better record than randomly filmed moments on my brother’s handy-cam, hindsight will be my bitch tonight as I try to tell the story, like it was, in all its extended glory.
April 26:
The day after seeing the Foo Fighters at Rod Laver in Melbourne which, by the way, was an absolute blast, I made the arduous journey from Caulfield South to Tullamarine Airport, something not usually undertaken without chauffeured assistance. One Tram, one train, one walk, one bus and 90 minutes later, I checked in for the flight to Maroochydore on the Sunshine Coast. Mum picked me up and then went back to my sister’s place to deliver my niece six hours later. Good timing, ‘eh chums?
May 1:
Without realising, a bunch of days had disappeared and it was time for the Afterthoughts to arrive. By James’s choosing, they’d caught the early-bird 6:50am flight and were slightly groggy, not a good sign with the first gig of the tour 12 hours away. Armed with a borrowed drum kit from my almost brother-in-law and with a father eschewed with gear transportation duties, we trundled down the mighty Bruce Highway to Brisbane, home of the windy hills and one way streets, eventually managing to find Tongue ‘n’ Groove (TNG) in West End, complete without parking.
TNG is a combination restaurant and downstairs bar area and after carting our gear across streets and down stairs with the help of friendly cousins, we took to the task of getting the dissembled P.A. to kick into life. A friendly girl with nice smelling hair came to the rescue and allowed me to not want to stamp my feet so much by manning (womanning?) the mixing desk and generally being a good sort.
My old uni friend Morgan Hann played a lovely acoustic set to the growing crowd. There were friends from high school, uni, friends of those friends, neighbourhood growing up friends, people I hadn’t seen in six or seven years and it was unfortunately impossible to give them all the time they deserved, which would become a recurring theme for me on this trip.
Playing was fun, got to dust off the cobwebs a little. We struggled being so close on stage, and the stage was struggling with my leg keeping time, retaliating by making Kyle’s ride cymbal sway dangerously even when not being played. Set went by in a blur before the crowd of friends set a new world record for clearing an area in the shortest time possible. Lots of “got to work tomorrow” and even more missed goodbyes. Oh well. At least the girl with the nice smelling hair put us up for the night.
May 2:
Morning broke on to another beautiful day, mid twenties temperatures and clear skies. We left the fair and windy shores of Brisbane and headed back up the Bruce, stopping along the way for some tasty gravalicious (see photo) breakfast. We got caught up in a traffic jam that allowed most of the cars in the Sunshine Coast to stop completely for 15 minutes on the highway, thoughtfully letting their occupants stretch their legs on the forgiving asphalt.
I took the boys to Mooloolaba beach, not be confused with Mooloola, Coolum or Marcoola, where we enjoyed the sea breeze before continuing out trip to the mighty Gympie. Pitched in by helping set up the P.A., a combination of gear from the mighty tour-manager-roadie-extraordinaire Warren Read (I think he’s related) and Callum Quinn, who also played a support set. Very much a low key gig, started out with Kyle on brushes before getting the nod to blast away to our hearts content. We had to compete with the nursing home across the road and their guitar duo entertainment. No broken hips from jiving to “Rock Around the Clock” were reported.
Crowd was a mixture of old school teachers, neighbourhood friends and other friends of the family. After the show I took the boys on a tour through the main streets of Gympie, past the the multiple $2 shops, and then homeward bound along the windy and dusty roads to the middle of middle-of-nowhere. Kyle “volunteered” for this leg of driving where we eventually made it to my parents’ place somewhere outside of Gympie. Plenty of insects for city boys Kyle and James to marvel at and attempt to stomp into oblivion.
May 3:
Slept in some, but not nearly as long as James, who managed to slumber until 11am despite the cacophony of birds outside. Daylight showed the boys the true wonder and beauty of where I grew up and we managed to fit in some golf and wood-fired pizza before we had to leave to head back down the coast to Eumundi. More perfect weather - clear blue skies, light breezes, all that lovely stuff.
Joe’s Waterhole was the highlight of the tour for me - a proper venue with proper sound and proper lighting and proper backstage including a bucket of beer. The only misstep was the XXXX Gold - you know you’re in Queensland when… We were sharing the bill with Jack & the Giant Killers. Jack Vaney who fronts the band grew up in the same neighbourhood as I, so it was always going to be a big love-in. Tour-manager-roadie-MC-extraordinaire Warren did some outstanding work again whipping the crowd into a frenzy and generally keeping the whole night on track.
We smuggled some beers back to my Grandad’s place where we partied on by watching something on Discovery Channel and eating pizza shapes. 3 gigs down, 1 to go.
May 4:
Ah… Sunday mornings. A good time to sleep in, that is, if you’re afforded the luxury. I told the boys to get up early so we could hit the beach at Peregian before our gig and they freaked out when the alarm clock in their room told them it was 11:30 when the rest of the house was still at 8:30. I guess it was character building for them. Another cousin of mine visited grandad in the morning, so got to meet one of the new additions to the family - her first child, daughter Katarina.
We made it down to Peregian in time to wander around the markets before they closed, then hit the beach with the boys resplendent in their board shorts and myself reduced to grundies due to a lack of foresight when packing for the trip. Beautiful water, shitty waves, a good time had by all.
The outdoor crowd at Peregian was apparently the biggest they’d ever had and we sold a bucketload of CDs and again I got to catch up with some old friends and relatives. Unfortunately one of my Grandmothers passed away that morning which, although expected, wasn’t the nicest undercurrent to the day. Shorter set that day and I powered through the pain of four days straight playing on my poor hands. Life is tough. So tough that we had to finish by having beers and hot chips on the balcony of the Peregian surf club, wasting time until we dropped James off at the airport.
May 5:
Took Kyle for another swim, this time at Mooloolaba beach before taking him to the airport. Tour oficially over, although I stuck around for another week or so in Queensland for the rest of my holiday. Bliss.
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There we have it, sleep well tonight in the knowledge of our itinerary.
