Vans and trains

I’ve talked about the gigs and venues, the cast of characters and the accommodation along the way, but there’s one aspect that I haven’t mentioned.

The transport.

The first two vans were Ford Lutons, and I would mostly be in the crew accommodation (i.e the rear section). There was the odd upgrade to first class, space permitting. It was a health and safety nightmare, but we didn’t bother about legislation in those days.

Strangely, one of these vehicles was once “unavailable”.

We had played at the Preservation Hall in Edinburgh, with a show at the Venue the next night. We decided to leave the gear in the Pres and do the move the next day. As I waited for pick up, the phone rang.

It was fellow roadie Eddie Rarity, “We’ve just to go ahead and move the gear and they’ll come along later.” “OK. How are they going to get there?” I replied. “In the van” said Eddie. “ So how do we get to Edinburgh?” I enquired. “On the train” advised Eddie. “And the gear?” asked I. “No idea” was the response.

Having decided to cross one bridge at a time we got on a train to Edinburgh. This was full of U2 fans on their way to Murrayfield to pay homage, so it was standing room only.

The train broke down at Lenzie. The poor guard was being harassed something awful for information, of which he had none. Some bold souls exited the train and made for the nearby road, hoping to thumb a lift from some kindred spirits. The police were called and controlled the situation, also advising that whistling the Z Cars them at them was not a good move.

The train eventually moved, and all eyes were on the stadium as we passed by. It seemed that Runrig were still on so things relaxed a tad. On arrival at Haymarket the train pretty much emptied, and there must have been a mad dash for taxis.

Having walked up to the Pres, we considered the situation. Then the cavalry arrived. Rob Maxtone-Graham was the sound man at the venue, and a wonderful wee chap. He was even more wonderful that day as he had a van. We told him the sorry tale and he saved the day.

As we set up in the Venue, a phone call came in. It was George, “You’ll need to come and get me”. “Where are you?” I asked “The Borders” he replied. Memories of exactly where he was (Innerleithen springs to mind) and how he got to the show are dim, but it worked out OK as far as I can remember.

The back of those Lutons was pretty much a travelling pre and post gig party. The roller shutters would occasionally be opened and the road using public treated to various “performances” and the occasional cheery wave. The less said about that the better.

Watch out for the next exciting episode folks…