Musselburgh
Battlefield Band’s tour of the highlands and islands of Scotland 2004 started in lovely Leith, meeting Pat off the boat from Spain and adjourning to the Shore bar for a cup of tea; or something like that. The next day we ventured to Musselburgh for our first gig. Musselburgh is known as “The Honest Toon” so I suppose I should concede that it isn’t in the highlands. It is however famous for several things: an excellent sea-side horse-racing track, Luca’s ice cream, and Stagg’s bar which is conveniently located next to the Brunton Theatre – our venue for the evening. This was quite fortuitous as we were being filmed for a DVD all day and many a break was needed – thirsty work the old piping. The gig was excellent and the hall full which was quite a feat considering the box office hadn’t been really open on a regular basis for a couple of weeks prior to the show. First the telephones were down, due to some school lad burning down the exchange, and then some problems in the staff/council relationships. Anyway, it’s good for us and here’s to next years show.

Alan Reid: keyboards, vocals and ping-pong

Upon crossing the threshold of the hotel, we were greeted by a large sweaty “Duncan” grasping a table tennis paddle – “Welcome to the Misty Isle”. The night turned into a rather sporty one all around as Alan challenged both Duncan and a young Swedish tourist to game: Alan is our “Sporty Battie” and has a wee penchant not only for team pursuit cycling, luge, and bi-athalon, but also this venerable ancient Scottish martial art of table tennis. Saying that, The Swede was a fine player of the “Ping-Pong” and even with the offer of his sister as a trophy, he managed to beat all comers – Alan, big Duncan, and the even the bar owner. It was here that the Swede had shown his inexperience for, although he was the undisputed table tennis champion for the evening, we got more free drink. “Up there for thinkin’, doon there for dancin’” goes the old adage. Rob, Alasdair, Pat, and myself however chose the pool table as our avenue for the evening’s recreation.

As it happens there were a few young locals who had not made it to the festival – this is understandable as it is hard to leave pubs such as this – and they requested that we give them a tune so It was decided that we would play them at pool and if we lost then we would play music. This was a mere formality as Rob is the only one of us that can play pool so after an appalling display of pool, a session ensued. The whole experienced resembled a kind of Hunter S. Thompson Version of “Brigadoon” – “Gonzodoon” perhaps (A sort of ‘Fear and Loathing in Dunvegan). By the way this is not a criticism of Skye or Dunvegan, just an enthusiasm for the surreal stuff that often happens on the road. We called it a day some time after 4a.m. as we had to drive to Farr for the next gig.

Inverness
Just south of Inverness, Farr sits in one the multitude of breathtaking valleys in this part of Scotland and Farr Hall is a modern multi-purpose venue built and run entirely by the locals. Aside from the great concerts put on there, the hall is also a sports hall and we arrived just at the end of a local Shinty tournament. For any of you not familiar with these parts, Shinty is an ancient game played with a ball and sticks similar to the better known Irish game of Hurling. Both of these games require great speed, skill, bravery and tenacity. The promoter – Alasdair Forbes – is a farmer and chartered surveyor and he with his whole family ran the concert, fed us and made us very welcome and as I alluded earlier, he puts on top-notch gigs and deserves support so it is worth keeping an eye out for what he is putting on. I mentioned visiting my wife’s family and this night was the turn of one of my brothers-in-law. This evening was a sort of leaving do for him as he currently metamorphosing from a postie into a policeman so all the locals who have been sending themselves curious letters from Amsterdam should perhaps keep their eyes peeled.

Time out in Temple & Edinburgh...
Another day, another fry-up. Once again a late breakfast – 9 a.m. or in Alasdair’s case, nane. We have several days without gigs so we return south to work at Temple. As Pat lives in Madrid, trips like this give him the opportunity to see our fine city, meet our local pals, and most importantly, sample all of the local cholesterol-based delicacies which are somewhat thin on the ground in Spain. This requires planning and dedication and Pat has been in training, playing rugby at home; so three weeks of fried breakfasts are a mere bagatelle for a man of his calibre. Next on the agenda is curry and there is no better place than Kushi’s in Edinburgh. This is the oldest Indian restaurant in Scotland (circa. 1946) and is located next to the central Mosque. The food is copious, inexpensive and exquisite. So curry and then beer and tea in Sandy Bell’s famous bar around the corner.
After a few days of rehearsing, eating and drinking, it is off to Ardross Hall in Easter Ross for our next gig.