Ash Cloud or No Ash Cloud, I'm Having a Holiday and Just You Try and Stop Me

Ant and I were due to go on holiday to Sicily back in May, but thanks to the Icelandic volcano and its pesky ash cloud, our flight was cancelled and our carefully constructed travel plans scuppered. Determined to find adventure regardless, we threw some camping gear in the back of our ancient Nissan Micra, and hopped on a ferry to the continent from Newhaven, praying that the old jalopy could survive another long haul jaunt.

We'd booked ahead for one night's accommodation in Orleans, but the rest of the trip was a complete fly-by-the-seat-of-our-pants mystery tour. My GCSE French was tested to its limits, frantically reserving hotels over the phone and ordering dinner in the remote rural non-English speaking villages in which we found ourselves. The camping thing didn't really work out (we're getting separate air mattresses next time), so we ended up bimbling between B&Bs as we made our way down towards the South coast, taking in Montpellier, Le Grau du Roi and Sete along the way. A visit to the beautiful hillop town of St Guilhem le Desert - with its picture postcard perfect winding streets and rustic monastery - was a highlight of the Languedoc stretch of the trip.

From the sparkling blue waters of the Mediterranean we swung a right and ventured into the majestic surroundings of the midi-Pyrennes and by pure luck and some garbled Franglais, found ourselves a delightful farmhouse gite in which to kick back and wind down for a few days. The village of Bourieges has nothing but a church, a (lovely) cafe, post office (only open on the Third Thursday of every month) and a handful of rustic houses. We were welcomed by Mr & Mrs Pous, who also left us several bottles of locally brewed plonk, including some from their own vineyard and an excellent Limoux bubbly, alleged to be better (and cheaper) than Champagne. I'd have to agree, it was super.

Having fond memories of cave paintings from a childhood family holiday in France, I was keen to explore the famous Niaux, just a short drive from where we were staying. Poor Ant came along too, despite his fear of small spaces and caves in particular. It was a magical experience, a small group of us trekking into the darkness with only handheld torches to light the way and mind-blowing underground landscapes all around. I have been known to get spooked in very dark outside spaces, but the womb-like surroundings felt somehow comforting as I imagined men and women making the same journey some 13,000 years before into what archeologists believe to have been some kind of spiritual sanctuary.

The paintings themselves were fascinating and surprisingly accomplished - considering the tools with which they would have been working back then. On the way back out of the caves, I asked if anyone in the group minded us all switching off our torches to experience complete darkness. It's an amazing sensation being in such pitch black that you can't seen your own hand in front of your face, or even the faintest outline of a person next to you.

Another adventure in these parts was to Carcassonne - the fortified town that inspired the game of the same name (now available as an iPhone app, FFS). Much like the famous Mont Saint Michel in Normandy, Carcassonne is overtly touristy, packed full off naff souvenir shops selling everything from frdieg magnets to medieval costumery. But it was a pleasant place to wander around and the castle itself was most interesting and well presented. We drove back from Carcasonne to Bourieges via the quaint little cloistered town of Mirepoix, which I shall always remember as the place where I received news of our dear old family cat Go-Tabs having to be put to sleep. The disproportionately large and rather pretty catherdral there made a perfect sanctuary in which to reflect and have a little cry.

Heading North back in the direction of Dieppe, we'd arranged to stay with friends in the Dordogne for a couple of days. After a quick pit-stop in charming Albi (where we just missed the opening hours for the Toulouse Lautrec museum), we arrived at Bellevue, near Bergerac, where we were thoroughly spoiled with wonderful food, stunning surroundings and exceedingly good company. We were even introduced to 'Click', a Carn family favourite after dinner game involving dice, paper and in this case, a generous helping of Alan's hearty homebrew. The Sunday market in Issigeac was one of the loveliest markets I think I've ever been to and Ant even managed to find a sunhat to fit his massive head there.

Our final stop off was in the little town of Azay-le-Rideau along the Loire, where we found a very cute B&B just around the corner from a spectacular Chateau - which proved a lovely place to bimble around on a sunny day. As we got behind the wheel once more for the final stretch of the trip home, I was frankly amazed that poor old Lottie was still going. It may not have been the highly-planned Sicily trip we'd hoped for, but we'd certainly managed to pack in a decent amount of adventure and a whole huge helping of stunning scenery to boot. And we discovered pear jaffa cakes, which really was the icing on the cake.

It's All Happening Now - The New Thomas Truax Video

Back in January I wrote about a rather peculiar Sunday at the end of the Christmas holidays when Ant, James and I were involved in a zombie music video shoot with Thomas Truax at the Under Ground Theatre in Eastbourne. I've been eagerly awaiting the outcome ever since and was thrilled when last week, the video was finally released onto YouTube. Unfortunately Ant's sterling zombie performance didn't make it into the final cut, but I am clearly visible as one of the dancing magpies and you can spot James in a blink-or-you'll-miss-it moment around 3:10.

The video was timed to coincide with the release of Truax's new album, Sonic Dreamer, described in this Drowned in Sound review as "different...knowingly funny, and...very very special". I have yet to get hold of a copy myself, but am very much looking forward to giving it a spin and wish the lovely Thomas all the best with his current album tour and promotional junket - do catch him at one of these live dates if you can.

The Fifth Great Escape Festival, Brighton 2010

We've been going to Brighton's own Great Escape festival ever since it started back in 2006. It's been a brilliant way to keep up with all the latest breakthrough bands and pack in a load of gigs early on in the year without having to rough it in a tent. Not that I mind roughing it in a tent one bit, but the prospect of sleeping in his own bed means that Ant will join me a lot more willingly. Some of the excellent bands that we first discovered at previous Great Escapes include Foals, GaBLé, zZz, The Low Anthem (wow, that was an amazing gig), John & Jehn, Black Mountain and Benni Hemm Hemm to name but a few.

This year's Great Escape festival was, I am sad to report, something of a disappointment. Our overall enjoyment was somewhat hindered by Ant's unfortunately timed man-flu attack, but regardless of that, I felt it was a less than inspiring line-up. After an excellent start with so-French-it-hurts electro-cheese-meisters Chateau Marmont, we seemed to wander from gig to gig, struggling to tell the difference between a string of identikit babyfaced Sixth Form Indie bands with only a single melody between them. It wasn't until Saturday that things started to improve and the festival really redeemed itself for me.

An Emerald City © by Rowstar on Flickr

Braving the seedy environs of the Freebutt to see The Bewitched Hands on the Top of Our Heads on Saturday afternoon, I finally felt like I was onto something a bit different. Jangly psychedelic retro-pop with the occasional touch of Arcade Fire urgency, it was a breath of fresh air after all the bland Indie crap. Later that evening in the atmospheric setting of the Basement, we swayed along appreciatively to the pleasing Bolly-prog sounds of Kiwi newbies An Emerald City; I must give a special mention to the bassist whose multipurpose cape-come-guitar-strap was a visual highlight of the festival. These were followed on stage by the equally esoteric but slightly less versatile antipodeans Bridezilla, who took a while to get going but really rocked out towards the end when the free-jazz style fiddle and sax element really came into its own.

Trembling Bells © by Rowstar on Flickr

From the Basement we strolled over to the Pavilion Theatre (why is it always so hot in there?) to catch the excellent Trembling Bells (who I first discovered on Freakzone) and couldn't help but smile at the conspicuous absence of hipsters in attendance - a most unusual situation for the UK's most skinny-jeaned, wayfarered festival. Presumably it's not cool to like Folk music and Trembling Bells are undeniably Folk, carrying on the tradition of bands like Fairport Convention and The Incredible String Band, but with an intriguing 21st Century flourish. It felt somehow fitting to finish the festival in the more familiar company of middle aged men and floaty hippy chicks, so we called it a night after that and left the clubbing and after-parties to the young-uns.

Although I shan't be living in Brighton come next May (more on that later), I expect I'll still come over for Great Escape 2011. 2010's offerings may not have been the best compared to previous years, but at £35 for the three days (with the early-bird ticket price), getting even four or five decent gigs out of it seems like a bargain. And it'll be an excuse to stay in a groovy Brighton B&B, which is not something I've ever done. If you were at the Great Escape this year and had a better experience, let me know - what brilliant bands did I miss? where was all the action? And most importantly, who had the pointiest shoes?

Most of the bands I really liked at the Great Escape Festival don't have commercial recordings available as yet, so you'll have to explore their MySpace pages to get a listen. I've made a little playlist here.

Little Sis Gets Hitched

Megan & Nick's Wedding from Rowan Stanfield on Vimeo
Original photoset by Rowstar on Flickr

Last weekend, my little sister got married. The same little sister with whom I spent hours and days playing epic games of Sindys and doll-dressing-dolls (as we called them); darling cute Megan got all growed up and tied the knot. Somehow this seemed more grown up even than her buying a house or having a baby (which she did in 2008). Why? Because, I suppose, it's a conscious choice one makes to get married, you have to make arrangements and send invites, whereas a baby can come along and be a complete surprise (not that this was the case with hers, I should emphasise). The decision to get married is a public statement of settling down that somehow propells you into adulthood like nothing else.

And for a big sister, watching her youngest sibling walk down the aisle and being her Matron of Honour (yes, I think I am too old to be called a bridesmaid) is an emotional business. But also a wonderful one. Megan and Nick's wedding was an utterly joyful occasion, filled with smiles, laughter, music, friendship and love. My own contribution to the day, apart from aforementioned duties, was to sing them through their register-signing with a rendition of 'Now I've Seen You' from the musical Honk. I also threw in a spontaneous chorus of '(I've Had) the Time of My Life' at the end of the night, aided and abetted by Natalie (well, if someone would leave a live mic switched on in the room with us two there, what do they expect?). It was a day (and night) to remember in so many ways and I am so very happy for both bride and groom.

Some of the highlights, including both my rehearsed and impromptu performances, are captured in this video/slideshow. The embarrassing bit is right at the end, so I'm counting on noone having the patience to watch it all the way through.

The Grand Glee Finale: End of Act One

Warning: Luvvie Alert (if you have have an aversion to campery or showbiz of any kind, you may as well stop reading right now. If however you are fond of a showtune or two, or like me, are a fan of Glee, welcome to the party...)

Since I first raved about it back in January, Glee has become my only must-watch TV show (oh, OK, there's Mad Men too), providing wry satire and sparkling musical entertainment every Monday night, which, I think you'll agree, is just what Mondays needed. Like any long-running series, it's had its occasional 'nothing much is happening this week' episodes and a few ill-conceived or just plain vomit-inducing musical numbers. But on the whole it's been first-rate.

We've followed the ever more complicated fates of a group of High School misfits and their equally troubled teachers as they prepare for Glee Club sectionals, an inter-school musical performance competition traditional in America. We've wondered who will end up with who, whether the club will survive its many slapstick bust-ups and whether they will make it through to the next stage of the competition.

There's decent eye-candy in the form of mohicaned bad-boy Noah 'Puck' Puckerman (or pretty boy Finn Hudson if that's your thing), but the undisputed comedy star of the show is cranky sports teacher and cheerleader coach Sue Sylvester, whose cutting one-liner comebacks are legendary. My favourite from this week's episode: "You'll be adding revenge to the long list of things you're no good at, right next to being married, running a high school glee club and finding a hairstyle that doesn't look like a lesbian." Genius.

The highlight of each episode for me is invariably the big showstopper number, generally performed by the group or two main characters in the midst of a poignant storyline. The episodes that fall flat are always those in which they get the showstopper wrong. Thankfully for the mid season finale this week, they got it very very right with a magical rendition of 'Don't Rain on My Parade' from Funny Girl:

As someone who performed in many musicals as a youngster and harboured aspirations towards professional singing, I was right there with (the talented but irritatingly fame-obsessed) Rachel as she stole the show at the Glee Club competition sectionals. Her heartfelt performance perfectly encapsulated the hunger and drive I so vividly remember experiencing as a teenager treading the boards; it was thrilling, infectious and rousing - bringing back a rush of teenage yearnings.

Both Ant and I have been humming the tune ever since and going back to watch this video of said performance to re-experience the tingling sensation all over again. It was so powerful that I can't even recall what the other songs in the episode were. Now that's what I call showbiz.

If you are still reading and have yet to experience Glee for yourself, you can catch up on the last few episodes via 4oD, or order the DVD from Amazon.

Twestival Strikes Again

Have you heard about Twestival? It's a global Twitter meet-up that happens every six months or so in hundreds of cities around the world.

At the first Twestival a year ago, I didn't really know anyone except my other half (aka @meeware) and my then brand new boss (aka @rogerwarner) - whose presence ensured that I remained sober and sensible for the duration. It all felt a little cliquey but I met a couple of cool people and it led to some fruitful online conversations in the following months. I did a little write-up of Twestival 1 on the Content & Motion blog if you're interested.

Twestival 2 was a whole different kettle of fish. @meeware was away and I'd ditched the 'no drinking in front of the boss' policy. There were quite a few more familiar faces, if only recognisable from their Twitter avatars. There was role play and murder mystery which really broke the ice and got everyone out of their cliques. 

After an excellent night of non-stop ranting and a fair bit of dancing, I ended up at the infamous Bulldog pub (of all places) until four in the morning with a gaggle of hardcore Twitter reprobates. Classy. The picture on the right (by Clive Flint) shows me pulling a classic "I'm not at all drunk, oh no, not me" face, about half way into the evening. Thank goodness there are none from later in the night.

Tomorrow night (Thursday 25th) it's time for Brightwest 3, I'm going with a whole crew of recently converted Twitter cohorts and am all set to DJ - I just hope the Brighton Twitterati are ready for my eclectic selection. This time there's a Speakeasy theme and we're being encouraged to dress up, as if I needed persuading.

As always, the proceeds all go to charity and loads of fabulous goodies have been donated for an auction and  'Twombola'. So if you're a Brighton Twitter person, or even a Brighton non-Twitter person who'd like to see what all the fuss is about, you should definitely come along. Tickets are available online or at the door. Here's a map, too, just in case you get lost. If you're a non Brightonian reading this, you can find your nearest Twestival via the official website. Come on, it'll be fun.

Thomas Truax Gig in Brighton

Ever since I discovered him at a Freebutt gig around this time last year, I've been raving about Thomas Truax, the eccentric one-man band with a penchant for weird homemade instruments. If you read my Great Escape 2009 write up or a recent post on the zombie music video shoot, you might be forgiven for thinking I was stalking him. You might even be right. He's one of those performers who taps right into my own personal madness and throws something even stranger back. Here's a little taster:

Thomas Truax Prove It To My Daughter

Uploaded by WowtownTV. - Watch more music videos, in HD

If, like me, you're game for a bit of oddball entertainment, you should get yourself down to the Freebutt in Brighton on Friday night, where Thomas Truax is playing again, along with Woodpecker Wooliams and Dug Champion. I'll be there, come and say hello. Londoners can also catch Thomas at the next White Mischief event on 27th March.

Watch this space for more gig recommendations coming soon.

Tunng Live and Acoustic At Resident Records

One of the nicest things about living in Brighton is that there's never a shortage of happenings, even on a Monday night. Admittedly it's rare that I make the most of Mondays, being content to crawl under a blanket on the sofa and watch a DVD after a hard day at work. But this week I broke the mold and accepted an invitation (thanks Steve) to see Tunng do an acoustic set at Resident Records in honour of their latest album release, And Then We Saw Land.

If you've never been to Resident, picture a small shop with a big shelving unit right down the middle and space at either side filled with Brighton hipsters, music lovers and middle class culture junkies (I won't tell you which cliche I consider myself to be). A pared down version of the band, minus drummer and usual array of percussive accoutrements, shuffles into the narrow space in front of the till and warns the excited crowd: "this might be a bit quiet". In fact it is the perfect volume - thanks to the fact that it's one of those polite occasions where people refrain from talking during the set; if only the same could be said for all Brighton gigs.

Having seen the full Tunng line-up live at Green Man Festival in 2007, I wondered how they'd come across without the trademark twiddly electro tinges, but actually the softer folkier sound of an unplugged performance suited them. I found myself swaying along and drifting away as they played mostly songs from the new album. Even the little tiny baby next to me (who, I should point out, was accompanied by its mother) seemed rapt throughout and hardly even squeaked. It was a jolly lovely start to the week and a pleasant change from the usual Monday night torpor. I must remember to make the most of Mondays more often.

Find Tunng on MySpace or buy the new album on Amazon: