I thought the ash cloud from Iceland would be the only thing that could prevent me from going to London, but I was wrong. I picked up some alarming news in some tiny corner of a newspaper (the news obviously weren't important enough for a German newspaper) – the BA cabin personnel wanted to go on strike, which of course would affect the flight schedule. The BA bosses got a court order but it was revised a couple of days later. On Wednesday, five days prior to my departure, I learned that my flight was definitely cancelled. Now, what to do? I could have booked Ryanair but the thought of heading to the airport in Frankfurt Hahn early on a Sunday morning wasn't really appealing to me. What most people don't know is that even though the airport is called Frankfurt Hahn, it isn't anywhere close to Frankfurt. In fact, it's another hour-long drive from there, and from my home it would almost take two hours to get there. Besides, I have a strong aversion against low cost carriers. I know it's silly but I can't help it... So I decided to rebook to Lufthansa. Eventually, the flight cost me twice as much as the flight with BA... Fortunately I got a full refund but it is annoying nonetheless.
So, my journey started on Sunday morning. I hadn't slept very well, there was this thing called Eurovision Song Contest on TV the night before and Germany won. Under normal circumstances I would have been happy about this but I absolutely hate the singer who represented my country, Lena Meyer-Landrut, and her song "Satellite".
It's a meaningless, overproduced little pop song – but obviously better than the other contributions or Lena wouldn't have won. My neighbours were very happy about her success. They had a little firework at half past midnight. Great. Couldn't fall asleep until 2.00 or so and woke at 7.00 to the sound of falling rain. Fortunately the excitement started to kick in so I wasn't that tired...
I headed off to Frankfurt airport with the S-Bahn, a strong coffee in my hand and MK's music on my trusty little iPod Shuffle. When I got out of the train, I walked to the "Departures" hall. When I saw the familiar surroundings of the airport I had to smile.
Frankfurt airport has been a special place for me ever since I worked there for a couple of months in 2002. It was one of these typical students' jobs. I had to check in passengers. But it was the most exciting job I've had so far and I still have very fond memories of meeting lots of different people and of developing a sense of responsibility. I have never thought of an airport, and this one in particular, of being just a place where people change planes (as Mark Knopfler once said about the inspiration of his song, "Sailing To Philadelphia") but as a city of its own, with an independent infrastructure. Busy at day and night, crowded with people who are heading off for destinations all over the world. And there were always beautiful quiet moments during a night shift before the rush would start again or when the boarding was completed. Seeing planes land and take off, the smell of kerosine... I just loved it. And it still feels strange to be at Frankfurt airport just as a passenger.
I had some time left so I had a little breakfast. Then I got in the queue for security checks. People always smile at me when I tell them to be there as early as possible but I know what I'm talking about. There are usually rather long queues and it takes more time than most people think. Turned out I was right again. As I was standing in the line the former airport employee in me immediately noticed a few alarming things. There was an abandoned bag somewhere between all those people which nobody noticed. There were people with trolleys, small and big which they wanted to take with them as hand luggage. I have never understood why most airlines, especially Lufthansa, are so careless about hand luggage. The thought of getting into a turbulence where the lid of that bag storage space above your seat pops open and you're hit by a 15 kilo trolley really isn't nice...
When I arrived at the gate I learned that the plane would be 30 mins late. I started to get a little uncomfortable; my plane was supposed to leave at 12.50 and arrive at 13.25 local time in London and I hoped the delay wouldn't mess up my timing. I hate being late. I would have loved to book an earlier flight but since I was forced to book at short notice there weren't many options left.
I don't know if it's a German habit but people started to queue in front of the boarding pass control counter long before the boarding process started. There was a family behind me, judging by their accent I think they were from the Stuttgart area, with three teenage kids, two of them were girls, probably around 12 or 13, and they talked all sorts of nonsense. I mean, I was like that once, too, but on that day it just got on my nerves. It got even worse when they started singing "Sweat" by Inner Circle.
After two minutes I was so aggravated I really had to restrain myself not to tell them off. I'm usually a calm person but this was enough. Do you know that feeling when you really want to slap somebody? That was exactly what I wanted to do.
When I entered the aircraft I hoped they wouldn't sit close to me. Fortunately they didn't. The flight wasn't that smooth – I sat close to the engine and it was really loud. I gave up listening to some music and enjoyed a cheese roll for lunch. I guess only Lufthansa can be that arrogant to charge 300 Euro for a short distance flight and serve a baloney roll. I didn't expect champage and caviar but come on!
I landed in Heathrow at 14.00. I couldn't find the express train so I took the tube. I didn't arrive at the hotel until 16.30 – had to figure out how to get there from King's Cross. I walked into the wrong direction first. Then I entered the wrong Travelodge – there were two on the same street. Anyway, when I finally arrived I needed a little rest. I washed my hands and discovered the water didn't go down the sink. So, down to the reception again. The clerk told me he couldn't send someone because it was Sunday and offered me the room next door. Up to my floor again, room change. I was tired and sat down for a while. I knew the others wanted to meet at 17.00 at the Stanhope Arms pub in Gloucester Road but I decided to go straight to the RAH to meet Wolfgang who had my ticket. Turned out the way was longer than I remembered and I arrived there at 17.30.
I walked around the hall and was again impressed by that beautiful Victorian building. I have been there before twice (2005 to see Mark Knopfler, 2006 to see David Gilmour) but the sight of the Royal Albert Hall never ceases to amaze me. Wolfgang arrived at around 18.30 and it was time to queue again – to pick up our tickets which he had ordered via markknopfler.com. This was pretty chaotic... We were sent from the box office to another door and when we finally were at the counter, we could see all the tickets were lying around on the table in a mess. Wolfgang got a provisional ticket with his name written on it and the amount of tickets. Even Paul Crockford, Knopfler's manager, was spotted trying to solve the mess. He wore a tasteful shirt (as always) - this time in an eye-cancer inducing orange colour. When we walked around the hall again, we were handed a flyer... I thought it was just advertisement but it wasn't: "Download tonight's concert in CD quality" the paper said. I let out a scream of excitement. So this is what Guy Fletcher (Mark's keyboarder) meant when he said stay tuned for news about a live release! A DVD would be even better but as we know, you can't always get what you want. We then bumped into Nelly and Nigel and had a big hello. It was great to finally meet them! Later we met Ingrid, too.
We entered the hall and again the former airport employee in me was concerned about the lax security handling. They didn't look inside my rucksack and didn't say anything about my camera bag... I thought this was careless – I mean, I don't want to sound paranoid but there have been terrorist attacks in London before... I didn't know what to do with my camera, a SLR, so I handed it to a wardrobe guy. Who knows, maybe someone would have taken it from me later... I was wrong. There were zero security checks in the entire hall.
We met Isaac, the charming fan from Canada who attends EVERY show of this tour, and his friend Jeroen at the bar and had a nice chat about concerts, travels and German geography. I realised my English had become a little rusty... The last time I had spoken English for longer than two minutes was at my oral exams in university two and a half years ago... I mean, it's not that bad but still... I used to be at an academic level. Plus, it makes a big difference if you just consume the language by reading and listening or if you actually talk... Anyway everything went fine, I had to search for the right words sometimes but people understood me I guess.
We missed Kate Walsh, the opening act, and entered at 20.20, shortly before MK would hit the stage. The interior of the RAH is just as expressive as its outer appearance. A solemn atmosphere and really nice. I remember the last time I was there - the David Gilmour concert in 2006 – certainly one of the best concerts I have ever been to.
Mark Knopfler and band came onstage at 20.30 and were welcomed with a warm and long applause. Wolfgang and I sat in row 9 of the arena. The seats aren't staggered so our view was a little obstructed but the sound was fantastic. Mark and his fellow musicians sounded just brilliant. IMO, he played way better than in 2008 where I always had that "Ohh, now he'll hit a wrong note" feeling and things sounded a little sloppy. But that night we got a fantastic sound, great guitar solos, especially "Speedway At Nazareth" and "Telegraph Road" were outstanding. I loved the camera thing during "Sultans Of Swing" (there was a small camera attached to Mark's guitar neck so that you could see his hands), I loved Mike McGoldrick on flute who even enhanced "Done With Bonaparte" for me, a song I've never really liked. And to see Mark smile... Awww. There were some funny moments during "Prairie Wedding". Whenever Knopfler sang the line "Do you think that you could love me Mary" a woman behind us, obviously named Mary, shouted "YES!!" LOL!
The concert went by way too fast. We gathered outside the hall and decided to go for a drink – but where? Wolfgang didn't come with us; we wanted to fly back to Germany the same night and left us to look for his bus back to to Stansted.
So the rest of us went looking for a pub that was still open. We couldn't find one and wanted to go to Isaac's hotel which was tricky. Isaac, Ingrid and Pottel kept checking Google maps but we ended up walking into dead ends... We finally arrived at Isaac's hotel at half past midnight. We had a couple of drinks and lots of fun.
Ingrid, Nigel, Nelly, Pottel and myself headed back to the hotel at two I think. I was so tired. But I couldn't sleep very well – the matress was too soft so my back hurt and I was too excited from the concert. The problem was I had to get up early the next morning as I wanted to visit Marie, an old friend of mine, in Brighton. We went to university together in Frankfurt when she decided to conclude her studies abroad. I hadn't seen her in four years and was really looking forward to that meeting. As you can imagine, I was very, very tired after only one hour of sleep...
I had booked the hotel with breakfast and couldn't wait to get my first caffeine shot. Unfortunately, the coffee there was the worst I've ever tasted. I don't know what exactly was wrong with it; it tasted like it had been reheated in a microwave oven. Yuck. So I switched to Earl Grey tea, definitely the better and safer choice. After the classical beans on toast and some refreshing in the room I headed off to Victoria station. The train ride took about an hour and went smooth. A big surprise was the sight of Battersea Power Station, the building on the cover of Pink Floyd's "Animals" album. No flying pig was seen, though.
I arrived in Brighton at 11.00 and met Marie at the station. She hadn't changed at all and we immediately started exchanging news and chatted about old times. Our first stop was a café in one of the narrow streets of Brighton. Finally, good tasting caffeine! We then continued to walk through town. There were odd shops everywhere (a shop only for Bonsai trees for example), very alternative looking people and small houses. It all appeared contradictory to me but it still seemed to fit together perfectly.
We went to the Royal Pavillion, walked through the park and then Marie showed me the Brighton Pier.
I didn't know there were slot machines in there... It was actually really loud. As Marie pointed out, working in that hall must cost you a lot of nerves. Behind the hall was the famous fairground. I was surprised the pier was stable enough to hold all that weight of the rollercoasters... Remember, I'm always concerned about security. After some greasy, yet delicious fish and chips (first time I tried) we sat down at the beach and watched people, talked about all sorts of things. Really great. At about half past two it was time to get back to the railway station. I wanted to be back in time for the fan meeting at the Stanhope Arms pub at 17.00. I bid Marie farewell. She said now that she graduated she'll probably come back to Frankfurt. I hope so.
Back after a noisy train ride with annoying Asian tourists sitting next to me I met Isaac again at Victoria station and we went off to the Stanhope Arms at Gloucester Road. We were soon joined by the others and had some drinks and snacks, and of course lots of nice chats.
At seven I decided to go to the RAH. I wanted to check out Kate Walsh, the opening act, as I had missed her the day before. Opinions differed: Some said she was boring, some said she was nice (I think Pottel liked her). I took the tube to get to the hall as my feet were hurting and I was too lazy to walk. Arrived just in time and in I went – together with my big fat camera. No, I won't mention the alarming lack of security again...
Anyway, I went to my seat, this time at the stalls, section O, with quite a good view to the stage. I fumbled around with my camera to find the right settings and took some test pictures of Kate, who I thought was rather boring. Repetitive songs, a little dull and not really intellectually challenging lyrics, as far as I could tell.
I could watch the hardcore fans slowly streaming in and taking their places at the front rows of the arena. It made me smile. Mark came onstage at 20.30. It was very cool to see him again already. I started to take pictures and hope it wouldn't annoy anybody; I can become obsessed with my camera very quickly once I've started. Those of you who don't know, I work for a newspaper so taking pictures is part of my job and taking really good pictures is my aim. At one point, a female usher approached my row and pointed towards my direction. I thought she probably meant the guy next to me who was also taking pictures but I think it's more likely she meant me. So I restrained myself. My telephoto lens is quite the eye-catcher, even though it's only 150mm. Anyway, I managed to get some really good pictures, though, like these for example:
By the way, I know that using cameras with a removable lens is not allowed but I didn't use a flashlight and did my best not to disturb anybody. Also, I'm certainly not going to make any profit out of my pictures. I know it's probably morally questionable but the new born photographer in me has a desire to feed. Those of you who find this controversial should look into the mirror first. We all know filming the shows is prohibited, too, but many of you post and watch youtube links, though. And many of you trade unofficial DVD’s made by really obtrusive fans. Now what is more questionable?
I'd always prefer professionally taken pictures over compact camera pictures. I know there are some very good cameras out there but you DO see the difference. The depth, the sharpness… Nobody can tell me they can beat a SLR. And I'd rather have a handful of really good photos rather than billions of snapshots. I wish there were some professional photographers at the concerts who would sell the pictures afterwards, just like it's the case now with the Simfy recordings. No more camera controversy, problem solved.
So, back to the show. The setlist was exactly the same as the night before and I was a little disappointed. Oh well, you can't have it all... But a slight change, for example "Get Lucky" or "Cleaning My Gun" instead of "Monteleone" would have been great. The sound wasn’t so good where I was sitting; I could hear Danny's drums reverberating from the back of the hall. It sounded really strange. And in my opinion, the first show had more energy... But that's just me.
After the concert I wanted to buy a women's shirt but they didn't have my size so I decided to wait until I'm at a concert in Germany. I met Isaac again, then the others; I briefly met Julio from Spain and John – you should have introduced yourself! Instead I just gave him a puzzling look and we briefly shook hands.
I was too tired to go for a drink and went back to the hotel with Nelly, Ingrid, Pottel and Nigel. We walked to Gloucester Road and had a quick stop at KFC where we met Marco from Switzerland (I had missed him on Sunday) and some others.
Back at the hotel at around midnight, Pottel and I said goodbye to Ingrid, Nigel and Nelly who were going to leave early next morning. My plane would leave in the evening – As I said earlier, I had to book what was left, there weren't many options regarding departure times either – but at least I would have some more time the next day. A quick look through my pictures and I went off to bed – this time I slept way better. The next day I had some breakfast and then went back to my room to check what was on TV. At around 12.00 I met Pottel in the hotel lobby and we went to have lunch at a nearby pub. Finally, something REAL to eat! I had the most delicious meal. Pasta with tomatoes, onions and aubergines and a fantastic desert called Banoffee Pie. It was a cake with banana, caramel (still liquid) and some sort of cream on top which looked like Tiramisu but didn't taste like coffee. I think this was the best desert I've ever had.
Time just flew by and I started my way back. It was raining and unpleasant, but as I cannot stand heat, I thought this wasn't that bad. I walked to King's Cross, stopped at Starbuck's to buy a coffee that tasted awful (Awful coffee at Starbucks? WTF?) and after a quick cigarette I went to the tube. I usually don't smoke, only occasionally, but I thought this was a good occasion. I stood at the station and reviewed my trip so far. All sorts of things were running through my mind: Witnessing Mark Knopfler's music live and feel the sheer joy and quality of his performance and songs, the fantastic bunch of people I met – how I wish we would have had more time to chat and the language barrier wasn't there! I know my English is okay but as I mentioned earlier, I felt a little insecure after I hadn't actually spoken it for almost three years.
On to the Piccadilly line and a quick stop at Piccadilly Circus where I was almost run over by several groups of students. It kind of reminded me of all those school classes staggering over the Zeil, the famous shopping street in Frankfurt, during the time of the Christmas Market. I discovered a silly souvenir shop called "Cool Britannia". They had the usual stuff – shirts, stickers, posters. I also noticed some merchandise stuff of England's most popular bands and bought two little Pink Floyd glasses. My brother had asked me to bring something with me – He wanted a poster of London's tube map but I had no idea how to transport it until Germany without damaging it. So I went for the glasses as he's a big Pink Floyd fan.
Now it was really time to get to Paddington station. I took Isaac's advice and wanted to go back to Heathrow with the express train. There was construction on the Circle line so I had to bear the delays in mind. When I arrived at Paddington I had to smile. I suddenly had to think of Miss Marple and "Murder She Said". Unfortunately, my train left at 16.55, not 16.50.
Bought some sweets and had a cappucchino before I went onboard. Wow, what a futuristic train. I knew it only takes 15 mins to get to Heathrow so I was really surprised how comfortable and modern it was. And I really had a stimulus satiation from the service onboard. There was airconditioning, very comfortable seats even in the second class and an infoscreen showing the news, security advice and all sorts of things. Coming from a land where such things can scarcely be found I was almost annoyed by this overload of service. I couldn't listen to my iPod because the sound of the infoscreen was so loud... But it was only 15 mins.
Check in and security checks at Heathrow went well. I exchanged my Pounds back to Euro, spent the last coins on tea and water (and vinegar crisps) in the duty free shop and waited for the boarding to start. The flight was ontime and apart from the pilot's sharp brake during the landing, it was very comfortable. Except for the food – we got a baloney sandwich again. My plane landed on 21.30, I got my luggage back almost immediately and left the airport at 22.00. Wow, that was really fast. Fortunately my dad picked me up so I didn't have to spend another one and a half hours on a train. I was back home at 22.30. A quick shower, a chat with my family and after I checked my emails I went straight to bed. Had to get up early the next day but of course I was still too excited to fall asleep. Relived the whole trip again and decided it was well worth it, even though I could hear my bank account moan. See you next time!
