Well folks, here then the first epistle regarding Alan and Rob’s nomadic roamings around our beloved planet.  Just thought it might be quite nice to share our travels with you all. 

We’ll start with our trip to the States.
The last week in October and three weeks of November, we toured with Battlefield Band all over in the States, doing gigs in New Hampshire, New York State, New Mexico, Colorado, Arizona, California, Oregon, Wisconsin, Michigan, Ohio, Washington State, etc, etc.  I feel that I have to elaborate a little about our visit in Washington State.  My cousin, Robert, and his wife, Suzie, enriched our gigs with their ever enthusiastic presence, at the Port Angeles and Friday Harbour venues.  After Friday Harbour, Robert and Suzie very kindly put us up in their second house whilst the others had a day to paint Seattle red, which they did, judging by their state when we met up next in Newport, OR.  Now some 18 years ago Robert and Suzie bought a 5 acre plot of woodland near Seabeck, WA, so they decided to build their own house and what a house they built!  It became a dome build of 3 hexagons, made up of 6 triangles each, and a fourth hexagon that meets the three side ones for the top.  No walls inside just a kind of deck half way up where their sleeping quarters is.
Size wise the dome became a little bit of a problem, so around 10 years ago, Robert said, “humm, I think ‘m gonna build myself a tower next to the house” which he did, a four level one to be factual.  The result is what you see on the photo.  This amazing building is still undergoing little adjustments and tweaks.  Both Alan and I thought it was an absolute experience to be with Robert and Suzie in their most extraordinary but fantastic home.

Robert is an avid Hi-Fi speaker designer and has published articles on how to best design horns and sub cabinets.  I, as a sound technician carry spectrum analyses stuff with me on a laptop computer so we hooked, and fired up Robert’s system and I was amazed at the near perfect flat analyses.  However, you need a big room to house them in because they are rather large and very heavy. 

Robert is also, like me, a Volvoholic, and he was proud to show me his latest addition to the flock, a P1800 (remember The Saint?) which he drove from California where he bought it.

Now for something completely different!!
Our brief tourette as Alan Reid & Rob van Sante started in the grand ol' city of Bradford.  The Topic Folk Club at the Melbourne Public House to be exact.  Just back from a US tour with Battlefield Band and only a few days to rehearse,  we bravely stepped into the realms of British pubdom, emptied the car and readied ourselves upon the stage in order to deliver the necessary gusto to the masses.  It was a particularly special evening because a lot of people we knew came to the gig including ex Battlefield Band member Alistair Russell who now lives in Bradford.  It was a treat to catch up on things and to hear his music again.

 The next day we stayed at my house in Leeds, a couple of hours rigorous rehearsing and then we zoomed off to the fine metropolis of Driffield.  The Blue Bell was the setting and the function room at the back was our venue.  We knew there was going to be a support act but what and who, we hadn't got a clue. We were suitably surprised to find that it was a Hank Marvin act complete with backing tracks, red Stratocaster, eye glasses and a white suit, a very bizarre experience indeed.  However, we had a good time and we were invited to attend someone’s 50^th birthday do after the gig at a hotel down the road, so down the road we went.  We were very kindly put up be the club’s organiser, Margie, who has a barbershop in the town, which was previously owned by a chap since the early twenties, until he shot-up shop in 1970.  Since then only the back of the premises was used until the old chap died.  When Margie bought the property she discovered that the shop had most of the features from the roaring twenties still present and fairly in tact.  So now she runs a barbershop full of novelties from times gone bye.  However, the best of all, the two sons of the old chap who used to have the shop, now both in their 90’s, come in the shop to have their hair cut.  I bet they can tell a tale or two.

The next port of call was Barnsley, of smog, ripped apart mining communities, pit closures, Arthur Scargill, Kate Rusby and Grimethorpe Colliery Band fame.  The Keel Pub, which doubles up also as a motel, was our venue for the evening.  Very handy if you’re stopping over on site, which we did. That way we ended up having a few pints after the gig, very civilized.  Linda Ross and her partner John and ex-partner Dave welcomed us and we had a fantastic time.  Carol Roberts, Katherine Robert’s mum was the MC for the evening.  We had a great time and the standard of the floor acts was exceptional.  Folk were really friendly and Linda, John and Dave took excellent care of us and treated us to a mega breakfast the next morning at Linda’s house.

2 days off and relaxing a bit at my house, so after some arduous rehearsal sessions we went for a curry naturally down to the Cross Gates Spice, a humble but popular establishment of an evening, yum, yum, nuff said??

 The next day it was the turn of the picturesque market town of Beverley, in the East Riding of Yorkshire, to be enlightened with our pleasing presence!  When Alan arranged the booking some time ago, I was quite shocked to hear that the club had changed venues.  I’m talking of course about the famous White Horse Folk Club at ‘Nellies’ (The White Horse Pub), which has been the club’s home for the best part of 30 years.  However, due to bad business sense of the new management, who “accidentally” didn’t apply for a music licence, and didn’t seem to think, that to get one, was in both the pubs and the clubs interest, the club had to leave this beautiful old gas lit hostelry and near perfect function room to find temporary refuge at The Foresters Arms. We were greeted by our good friends Richard and Jean Wastling and despite the different scenery we had a wonderful time, and it was great to see everyone again. 

 The following day our travels took us to Croxdale in County Durham, at the Daleside Arms.  We were rather early at our destination, so we enquired at the bar if food was served this time of day but a firm “no” was the answer.  We then got in the car and drove to the next village were we stopped at an establishment decorated with dubious faded images of what were suppose to be delicious meals.  Blue kebabs, blue pizzas and blue curries were staring us in the face, hmmmm*&^%$#!  However, we were quite hungry so we both opted for what appeared  to be a Doner Kebab, of which only a large one was available.  Alan, in all his wisdom, wanted a medium sized kebab, but he was quickly put into place by the rather rotund female server who looked at him with an expression as if to ask, if what it said on the board was incomprehensible to him.  “Large or Large” was her first and final offer, oh! err, right enough, I’ll ‘ave a large one then, answered my stunned and confused partner.  So Alan and I went back, heavily laden with a large kebab each, complete with leaking paper wrapping, to the Daleside were we devoured our recently acquired nourishment, including heaps of chilly sauce.  Doing a gig with half a ton of kebab meat in the bottom of your stomach is not advisable as indigestion set in as soon as we started our stint.  However, I will not go into that any further.  We had a great time and we were surprised at the standard and the amount of floor singers that turned up and performed.  Croxdale being rather quite a back water, is not frequently patrolled by the boys in blue and ultimately drinks were handed across the bar for quite some time after the gig, how civilized.  Fred Brierely, a keen lover of anything folkish, who is an ex merchant seaman, very kindly put us up for the night.  So on entering his abode, he produced, in true seaman fashion, a bottle of Back Bush, more yum, yum!  Anyway after a few of those we retired for the night and another day bit the dust.

 Edinburgh was next on the agenda, so off we went up the road the next morning after having said our goodbyes to Fred.  When we started the Northern half on our tour, we decided to take two cars up North and park my car in Denholm where our last gig would take place the following day.  After having dropped my car off that morning behind the pub in Denholm, we headed to Temple, where the mixing of Battlefield Band’s recently recorded album was taking place in full swing.  It was good to see the entire band there.  At the end of the afternoon, we made our way up to Edinburgh for our show at the Pleasance Cabaret Bar.  On arriving, we were greeted by Iain, the house technician who made us very welcome.  The clubs organiser, a German guy called Paddy Bort, arrived shortly after and the wheels were set in motion.  Battlefield Band’s manager, Robin Morton and his wife Alison Kinnaird graced us with their presence, which was great, more so because he has never seen Alan perform outside the Band.  So it was an opportunity for him to see the ‘long time Battlefield Bander’ in a different light.  Since Robin and Alison’s house is only a half an hour away, they kindly gave us a bed (each) for the night.  The next day more mixing and hanging out at Temple and mid afternoon we sped down the road again to our last performance of this mini tourette.

 Denholm was the place, and The Cross Keys was the setting.  Well this turned out to be the ultimate last gig of our tour.  We were greeted by the pubs landlord, a rather large chap from Castleford, complete with a fat South Yorkshire accent to match it.  We were rather early, so we asked for a menu and these were brought to us without delay.  “What will it be, cocker?” was his short but to the point question, looking at me.  As quick as a flash, “pint o’ Black Sheep” I replied.  Without any further utterance he turned to Alan, who hadn’t completely made up his mind said, “uhh, amm, me two”.  The landlord disappeared and came back with two pints of the foaming ale.  “Poohh, I’ve been gagging for this”, I said, “aye”, was the reply from the other side of the table.  We managed to order and eat our dinner and by the time we’d finished the first of the crowd arrived.  This remained sporadic for quite some time.  We were getting quite worried considering time was getting on.  When we approached the landlord about the lack of bodies, he replied, “there be nowt ‘appening ‘ere b’fore nine, luv.”  Reassured we retreated to our seat to await the masses.  Not long after that, Malcolm McEwen, our host for the evening, provider of the sound system, MC, and general boss man of the club introduced himself and assured us that there was time enough and that folk won’t be coming in before 8:45.  He’d planned the proceedings to start around 9:15. The PA was set up and tested and on encountering some gremlins, we ironed everything out and did a sound check.  Alan, who previously phoned home to say he would be driving home that night, decided that staying over would be a better option, so that he also could relax a little.  So he phoned home again to say he wasn’t coming home that night.  Malcolm who kindly offered me a room at his disused railway station now found himself with two guests and offered to drive us to his house which was some seven miles away and drive us back the next day.  This meant that we could leave the cars at the pub and get stuck into some bevy. 

The place filled up to capacity, and with Denholm being a wee place, it made us wonder where all these people came from.  But, hey, who are we to complain.  It was a lovely intimate night.  The crowd enjoyed what we did and we certainly enjoyed the crowd.  They were great!!  In fact the whole night, uh, ach no, the whole tour was great!!

THE END