Scott’s Book of Souls: Chapter Two, Toronto (2016)

Well, this one might be a tad shorter than the Montreal one, primarily because I wasn’t in Ontario for as long a time as I was in Quebec. But I could be wrong.

So, early Saturday morning, I headed down to the Megabus station in downtown Montreal, but not before I stopped at a nearby Tim Hortons for some breakfast. Earlier, I had begun uploading my video I took in Montreal of Speed of Light, so by the time I got to Timmie’s, it had finished uploading completely. With about 10 minutes until the bus was to leave, I headed to the station, just as the bus was pulling up and loading people in, and got myself a seat on the upper deck.

I got to Toronto about 6 hours later, but I was staying in Burlington, so I caught an Uber to the Union station, which is VERY close to the Air Canada Centre, in fact! It was pretty interesting knowing that’s where tomorrow night, Maiden would set their Mayan Temple up. I bought a GO Ticket and got on the train to Burlington. Unfortunately, I was under the impression I’d be leaving shit-tastic weather behind, and so imagine my dismay when snow was all I knew for the weekend.

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Okay, this is from the next day, but you get the point. (PHOTO CRED: Karl-Gunnar Severinsen)

About an hour later, I met my uncle Jim at the Burlington GO station, and we somehow managed to survive the journey to his apartment, with how bad the weather was. At least twice, we got snow splashed on the windshield! It was great to see Jim again after four years. He lives all the way in Ontario, and I’d probably be able to see my dad’s side of the family more if traveling in Canada wasn’t so damn expensive. Among that side of the family is my aunt Carolyn, who it would have been nice to have seen- problem is, they live in Kichener, and she was busy with the kids. But I guess there’s always next time (which, with my current plans, may be a lot sooner than originaly anticipated). And there’s my aunt Sue, who had a friend over named Jerry. Was my first time meeting him, and he’s a really nice guy. Jim and SUe live in the same apartment complex, albeit on opposite sides- I didn’t have much time to get pics though, due to the catching up we were doing.

However, despite the dour weather conditions, which were working some Seasonal Affective Disorder wonders on me, it ended up being a good night overall. We had some dinner at Swiss Chalet, some tea and Brownies at Sue’s, and then wound down the night with some beer and something else of a seeming tradition that happens every time I head to Jim’s- namely, is girlfriend Meldy is Filipino, and the last time I was there in May 2012 and this time almost four years later, she got me to try some bizarre Asian alcohols. So let’s just say, that was something. In particular, this was the first time I had tried Sake, and… well, it doesn’t taste bad, per se, but it hasn’t got much taste. Can’t really say I see the appeal of it. Then again, it is rice wine.

So after Jim and Mel had gone to bed, I stayed up and watched some SNL, had a few beers, then after 24 hours of no sleep, went to bed.

I awoke at 11 the next day- a tad later than I expected. Surprisingly, it was sunny outside, although a tad chilly. I started off the day with some nice eggs and Canuck bacon breakfast, and since it was a Sunday and Jim had work the next day, I had to move my stuff to Sue’s. So I got all that done, and Jim took me to the GO Station. I got my ticket to downtown Toronto, and was in Toronto at about 1:30. I managed to find the FTTB line- which this time, I actually won FTTB! Again, the line took place INSIDE, which once again, was a stroke of genius considering the weather. Sadly, I didn’t get any snow pics, so here’s another photo by Karl… followed by a random inexplicable selfie I took.

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Oh the weather outside is frightful… end song. (Photo cred: Karl-Gunnar Severinsen)
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These people.

I did the same thing with buying Diet Cokes to keep hydrated and made regular bathroom trips (despite the bathroom being in a pedway building). I had another extra ticket, so my ticket buyer was on his way, and got there around 4:30. Kenny got to the line around 4, said hi to quite a few people and chatted a bit, and then started with the wristband giving around 15 minutes later.

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Karl, Kate and Matt… with an excited Canadian

Things were going smoothly… until the actual ticket letting in happened. Remember Nat and Parker’s ticket fiasco from Montreal? That was nothing compared to this. I fell victim to the nonworking ticket scanner, and so this made me right pissed. They kept scanning my credit card, only for it to keep shitting out, and this resulted in me having to go to the box office to get paper tickets. This probably wouldn’t have been as frustrating as it was if it weren’t for the fact that one of the first fucking things I did upon arriving at the ACC was try to get paper tickets IN CASE THIS SHIT HAPPENED. So I told Blair, my ticket buyer, to sneak into the next FTTB line while I went and got my ticket troubles sorted, and I did just barely. Two other couples were having the exact same trouble, and I had to basically talk down to the ticket counter people. While they were able to help others without problem, they got on the fucking phone for no reason until a third person came to help me and I had to basically resort to “I came here from Edmonton” sob stories. So, after that shit, I got my tickets, met back with Blair in line which MIRACUOUSLY hadn’t been let in yet. Lening, my friend I met in Montreal, also acted as a legend and let us get in with him, and finally we were let in, and I got my spot at the barrier in front of Arry and Jan this time!

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At least I got a paper ticket.
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Reunited with the Polish friends and it feels so good!

When we got to the barrier, George Harris was on stage, setting up for The Raven Age- I called out to him, and he remembered me from Comedy Works! We chatted a bit, and he even asked where Nat and Parker were (I just told him they could only do Montreal). So, the usual- Sabbath tape, then The Raven Age. The Raven Age killed it again, and definitely had gotten even better from the Montreal show. More eye contact with the members of the band, and at the end, Dan Wright began taking setlists off the stage and handing it to crowd members- and I got one of them!

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So, 30 minutes more of waiting later, Doctor Doctor was coming out of the speakers- and boy, my voice was FUCKED from the Montreal gig. But, I tried. Then lights down, video intro, and Bruce appears on stage ready to rock once more. This time, Bruce’s microphone hookup was a lot better, and If Eternity… and Speed of Light were far more crushing and heavy. After Speed of Light, Nicko gave the earliest drumstick throw I had ever seen- clearly he was enjoying every second of what was going on! Bruce gave his usual intro to the crowd, and from there on, the band had launched into the heaviest, most powerful and stunning rendition of Children of the Damned I had ever heard- so bombastic, it made my heart race. Montreal was already proof enough of it being so good to have my favourite band on stage again, but this was further proof.

Tears of a Clown as epic as usual again, and The Red and The Black- this song manages to just give me goosebumps EVERY TIME. One particular moment that made it was H running over to the right side of the stage and having a friendly moment with Jan- this was the sight of legends just having so much fun.

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The Trooper was next, slayed as usual, Powerslave had another RIPPING rendition, and then the start of something epic was next: during Death or Glory, Bruce began to take note of the dance move that has now become quite a spicy meme. I refer to this:

You have Pam McGee and Peggy Gaito, a Bostonian and a “Noo Yahker” to thank for that. They kept doing that dance move, and finally Bruce noticed.

Next up was The Book of Souls, and during this, from here on, the next few songs turned into quite the comedy of errors. For a start, during this song, Bruce wrang the heart he rips from Eddie’s chest out a bit too hard, and blood went splashing all over Janick- he was drenched! So he went to get toweled off at the end of the song, which went into Hallowed Be Thy Name. He was dripping, so his guitar tech got down on all fours to wipe all the blood , then Jan took the towel and began whipping his tech’s arse until he got off stage. Hilarious!

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Unfotunately, this came with quite the side effect- Jan’s guitar hardly worked. It wasn’t until his solo where his guitar finally got working again. From there on, the gig was on its feet all night- rousing and ripping renditon of all the songs, start to finish. The pyro was working much better, and as a result, I could feel the heat from the fire on my face!

After another emotional powerhouse of a rendition of Blood Brothers, and one JOYOUS Wasted Years, I was in quite the state of post-Maiden bliss. Even the lame crowd couldn’t ruin what a high I was on.

I got a picture with an Eddie Elvis (Edlvis?), met up with some IMOC friends, then made my way outside… only to find out we were in quite the winter wonderland. I made my way to the Tilted Kilt, had some burgers and beers, jammed out to some Maiden tunes with several Maiden friends, then got on the GO Bus to Burlington…

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Viva Las Eddie!

The downside was, there was a blizzard, and I had to wait for a taxi for almost an hour… which arrived at 3 AM. So that sucked. Even worse, the taxi driver didn’t recognize the address, so he drove me halfway across Burlington- when I called him out, he did have the kindness in his heart to not charge me for the rest of the journey. Now that’s a first. You see, taxi Driver I mentioned in my Milan journal??? You see???

I got home at 4, got to bed, awoke at around 10, had some delicious breakfast at Sue’s made sure everything was good to go as far s packing was, and got on the GO Transit to Toronto, and on the Union Pearson express to Toronto Airport. I did have a little slip-up at security where I somehow left those scissors from Montreal in my bag, so for obvious reasons, I couldn’t bring those on board.

Aside from a long delay, I had a safe journey back home to Edmonton, and got ready for two days back to work before Johan’s arrival on the impending Wednesday before some more Maiden Madness took place.

In our next chapter, which is a different one- in the sense that it takes place in my own back yard (sort of), I meet up with a Swedish friend, show him my home turf, and get back into the Maiden Madness, like there wasn’t a two day break to begin with!

STRAY OBSERVATIONS!
-I go to the east side of Canada to AVOID snow, not bring it with me!!!

-I will say, Toronto definitely looks pretty when it snows.

-If it weren’t for my FTTB OCD, I’d have been at the pre-show Tilted Kilt meet, which apparently broke capacity for the year as far as attendance figures went.

-Yeah, the Toronto crowd was lame. Not sure I’d go see a concert there again. Had too much o a festival vibe.

-I must say the Union Pearson trains are pretty damn nice.

-Bruce mentioned that he had gone to the hockey game the previous night. I guess hockey isn’t as much a thing over in the UK as it is here, and apparently he had fun. Someday, SOMEDAY I’ll attend a UEFA league game, or even more preferably, an LFC game for real.. hopefully. *immediately checks 2017 football schedule*

– And apologies for the lack of pictures. More visiting happened and less Maiden fan madness. Not like that’s a bad thing though, it’s always nice to meet with family.

SCOTT’S MAIDEN VOYAGE 2013: MAIDEN ENGLAND- LITERALLY! PART 1: Scream for me, Donington!!!!

Most of you probably know by now that I am heading to England in July to catch the last gig of the tour in Stevenage, at Knebworth house. I’ll write a follow-up to this as well about Knebworth, which is why I’ve called this Maiden England- Literally! Part 1.

Alright, enough of the babbling bullshit.

After a quick power nap, I woke up at 3 in the AM in my Frankfurt hostel, and was sweaty mess. I had no time to shower, really, as I had to get to the airport. Usually I try to get to the airport 3 hours in advance so I guaranteed won’t miss my flight. But getting to the hauptbanhof at 3:15 and finding out my train doesn’t come until 4, I knew I was fucked unless I took a taxi, so I did, and to my surprise, the driver drove awful fast. So bloody fast, my heart was in my throat. To be fair there weren’t very many vehicles out on the road, but it was dark with just a glimpse of daylight in the very off distance. Nonetheless I made it to the Frankfurt airport, and after a long delay waiting for the folks at the airport to set up British Airways, I got checked in and logged onto facebook to see what was going on.

The plane was so small, I was under the impression I was on a business trip. Tons of men dressed sharply in white shirts, black ties, and even suits. The plane trip was thankfully only 90 minutes, and I arrived London city airport in good time. But after a rather unpleasant encounter with the nosy customs lady (I’m just going to leave it at that), I got through and was welcomed to London. And after having to deal with THAT, I needed a fucking coffee. Thankfully there was a Costa Coffee nearby, so I ordered a big cappuccino (so big you could eat cereal out of the cup), and some brownies for breakfast.

After a train ride to Kings Cross, there was one thing, and one thing on my mind only- Doctor Who stamps. Royal Mail issued a series of stamps as a celebratory 50th anniversary deal, and so I went to a Royal Mail location that was just near the train station (which itself wasn’t too far from The Shard- those of you who watch Doctor Who will hopefully know what I’m talking about) and purchased two sets- one for me and one for Dan back home. Then I made my way to the train station and promptly got on a train to Nottingham- which is where I was staying. The train was big, comfy even, and there even were some refreshments on the train!

Having gotten to Nottingham was when I got my first taste of how truly schizophrenic the weather in England could be. It was pissing, and I had quite a distance to travel to get to my hostel. I took a taxi and thankfully the ride was short- about 4 minutes if I’d say so myself. The hostel wast he first time I had truly gotten a “home away from home” feeling. The Igloo in Nottingham is more of a big house and was owned by a guy who himself is from Edmonton! We were both surprised and that right there meant we got along easily. I needed time to relax after what I had been through, so I went to the main room after dumping everything upstairs, and used my iPad, contacted family members back home.

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Your humble narrator

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And off to walk the streets of Nottingham city it was. I’m sure most of you reading this journal entry are aware of the reputation this city has of being the “scary city where people get shot and stabbed”. I don’t doubt this happens often, but truth is, it happens here where I live. I practically refuse to go downtown late at night because of it (unless there’s a party going on with one of my friends). Hell, try living on the north side of Edmonton. That being said, lucky for me, I didn’t get shot/stabbed. I actually found it to be such a relaxing change of pace from the busy and rushed pace that London gives off, and I found the sleepy atmosphere refreshing. The only downside was that I was hoping to head to a pub for dinner, but that was short-lived- they stop offering food after 6. So I went to a nice restaurant called Turtle Bay at the corner house for dinner- and ended up having Red Stripe Beer on tap. First time since Jamaica in 2010! It was a Jamaican restaurant, and I also had studded lamb, which, while nice, made me feel like my tongue was on fire. But it was worth every second of it!

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After that, I visited an Irish pub for some pints, and had a lovely chat with an Irishman who owned the place, and the Irish guy next to me. Guinnesses and Strongbows all around, and some open mic was taking place too, which was nice. After that, I went back to the hostel, and hung out with some of the folks there, a bunch of people who were there were going to be at Donington for the show too- people from Italy, Sweden, the list goes on and on. Not wanting to versleep, I hit the hay and showered pretty early.

All ready to go at 2 PM the next day, I decided to use the majority of night 1 to familiarize myself with Donington. As per usual weather was schizophrenic. It was sunny in Nottingham then cloudy another minute, then halfway to Derby, it was pissing. Just outside Donington it was nice and sunny, inside Donington it was freezing, cloudy and rainy. Since I was staying in Nottingham, I took the Skylink bus from Friar Lane- which was only £8 for a return ticket, a steal if you ask me. So I knew to ready £8 for myself every day for transport. The journey was a good 40 minutes, and the stop was located conveniently not too far from the entrance, which was always a good thing.

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Otherwise known as the field of dreams.

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Immediately, I regretted not bringing boots. My white sneakers suffered the wrath of the awful English countryside weather, which does get often muddy. While I will say that mud-wise it was bone dry compared to pictures I had seen from the year before, it was still pretty muddy. Then I thought to myself, “maybe I shouldn’t fret… you’re a Maiden fan, and chances are that Donington mud, in addition to a Steve Harris wristband, will be the best souvenir you’ll take back to Canada this year.” Even Hayley had mentioned this later when we were chatting in Amsterdam, and she’s right!

I also made the smart move of buying an event shirt on that day. I knew that if I were to wait until Maiden day, they’d be all sold out. They looked like this:

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So there’s not a lot to say about day one. It was more of a “familiarize yourself with Donington” day, because I was mostly there for Maiden. But using the weekend pass, I figured I’d see as many bands as I could. As I arrived, Papa roach was in the middle of their set. First off, the site is HUGE. Essentially, it’s on a slope, with the second stage off to the far left halfway up the hill, with the main stage all the way at the bottom. Mini stages are to be found in the far left and right, and in tents situated around the park. The first band I really saw there was Korn. I know that is bound to get me some flak, but I will admit when I was a little kid, Korn was the real deal. Kids wanted their CDs, despite the lyrics being inappropriate for children, which extends far beyond the swearing- songs that deal with themes such as childhood sexual abuse and what not, but when we heard the hits, our full a Trenton was theirs. And reading up a bit of their history reveals their original guitarist had left some time ago and last year had rejoined the band, and was also there at Download. So their hour long set surprised me, to say the least. It was a satisfying nostalgia trip where classics such as Freak on a Leash and Shoots And Ladders were on the setlist. Thankfully only two songs from that “Path of Totality” shirt pile were on there, and they were the good songs (“Narcissistic Cannibal” and “Get Up!”). Freak closed the setlist, and vibes were good all around.

After Korn, I went to go get a steak sandwich,and had to suffer through ten. Infuse of Dragonfarce’s set to do so. Now, I knew they were shit live, as that infamous Graspop 2006 video reveals, but they were much worse in the flesh. I could not even make out what was going on, it sounded like some sort of semi-musical noise with an audience cheering. But afterward, there was Bullet For My Valentine on the main stage, and they surprised me too. I only know two songs of theirs- “Your Betrayal”, which is one of the P.A. songs on Maiden’s current tour, and Tears Don’t Fall”, which your grandmother probably has heard by now. And I did enjoy their set, actually. Tons of pyro was on their stage, including on the side and what not.

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Last of the night was the first headliner, Slipknot. I listened to them all the time in middle school, and though I don’t listen to them much anymore, I figured why not see their set. I heard that their live show is nothing short of stellar, and maybe indulge in a bit of being a teenager again. And so after “Get Behind Me Satan and Push” rang through the speakers, the band were on stage with a blast of pyro, and delivered a fun as hell set. There were two problems, however- three times throughout the concert, the fans got so rough that they caused the barrier to break. Fortunately, Corey Taylor gives a shit about his fans, stopped the band in their tracks and told everybody to take a step back and let the folks fix the barrier. Another problem I had was that I was rather disappointed that their setlist consisted mostly of a lot of their inferior new material- but when the classics came, I jumped up and down and screamed my lungs out- “Eyeless”, “Heretic Anthem”, “People = Shit”, “Wait and Bleed”, “Spit it Out”, “(sic)”, and “Before I Forget” were the real thrillers of the night, and in a sheer coincidence that was nothing short of spectacular, it begin raining when “Psychosocial” played- which is hilarious due to the line “and the rain will kill us all/if we throw ourselves against the wall”. Perfectly timed, much? In a touching move, the band had a backdrop with a giant “2” on it, paying tribute to Paul “#2” Gray, who died of a drug overdose in 2010.

Getting out of the venue could have, and maybe should have, been a problem- 90, 000 people trying to get out, which did lead me to leave during the last song “People = Shit”, and I found a bus stop outside the venue, and was back in Nottingham in an hour. And boy, it felt good to be inside and warm from all the cold. After staying up for 30 minutes to send an email or two and update Facebook, I was in my PJs and in bed.

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I had no plans the next day but Maiden.

This was it.

The big day. The creme de la creme of the tour.

MAIDEN AT MOTHERFUCKING DONINGTON. 5TH APPEARANCE. 25 YEARS IN THE MAKING. HEAVY METAL HISTORY IN THE MAKING.

All those thoughts floated through my head as I tried to sleep the previous night. But I couldn’t sleep, because excitement was all over inside. I was seeing Maiden at Donington.

I left for Donny the next day at roughly the same time, and arrived to hear Alice and Chains finish their set. The weather was a tad better that day, but would take a turn for the rainy later. I was smart this time and wore a leather jacket with a hoodie. As we were on the bus, a lady walked on before we departed from the Nottingham coach station (where the bus typically went before making its way to Derby) that the East Midlands Airport Parking Lot was filled with busses, and after the show, to go right there.

Anyways, back to Donny. Since I had familiarized myself with the park, I was bit more “free” that day. I got this picture:

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The sign was not too far from the mainstage, a bit more uphill. After that picture, I went for some dinner, got myself a big pork bun, and watched what may be the last Motörhead gig for a while. As you may or may not all know, Lemmy has a number if health issues that has caused them to have had to postpone their current tour. Nonetheless, it was hard to tell. He was in great spirits all night, and sounded and played great.

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Right after, it was Queens of the Stone Age time, and I’ll admit I didn’t listen to their music much, and after seeing their particularly droney and boring live set, I’m glad I don’t. What a bore. They played for an hour, but it felt like three hours. Perhaps if they were placed before Rammstein or perhaps earlier in the day. I’d have not been so harsh on them, but they seemed to do a good job at putting the audience to sleep. I saw the audience get excited to maybe one song of their whole live set, and that was about it. Ugh, I’m mad just thinking about it. Part of it was the less than desirable sound at Donington, but you’d think that for a band of their reputation they’d put some effort into it. I saw multiple people leave the crowd in droves, and that’s never a good sign. In fact, the minute they left the stage, a number of people seemed to be happy it was over. In fact, I spent the better part of their set waiting in line to go to the bathroom and standing in front of a man who had drank too much beer, wine and gin.

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The aforementioned drunk

Then this was it. After they finished their set, I RAN as fast as I could to get the best spot I could for Maiden. I landed a spot on the second row back from the second barrier. I would have went past the second barrier to be a bit closer to the main barrier, but given how muddy it was, and how good of a view I had, I figured it wasn’t worth giving up a good spot. Setup was an hour long, and to take the edge off waiting, security came through with styrofoam cups and offered us water. I had taken a big and long enough piss to not have to miss any of Maiden’s set, and had a good time talking to a man in front of me who went to both O2 shows in 2011.

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The wait begins…

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ARE YOU READY???

After quite a wait, there was five minutes to show time, and the park was quickly filling up. Before “Doctor Doctor” came, there was a big surprise. Bigger than any of us would have imagined. As we all looked forward, a guard on the stage silently pointed to the sky above us. We collectively looked behind us, we saw a speck of black in the sky, moving forward, getting bigger, the hum of an engine getting louder. As the speck came forth to light, it revealed itself to be an airplane. But not just any airplane. True, airplanes had flown over our heads all day due to the location of being near the East Midlands Airport, but this was an RAF spitfire. It lowered itself to being a reasonable height above the audience, flew over the stage, flew a few KM more, then turned around, flew over us in the other direction. The first few bars of “Doctor Doctor” sounded, and before we thought it was over, the plane came back for one more maneuver

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You should have heard us all. We all screamed with tons of delight, joy. What have you- the sound of 90, 000 people screaming in excitement was beautiful. As “Doctor Doctor” rolled though the speakers, collective singing and suspense was in the air.

Then it hit me.

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The lights went off, then blue. “Rising Mercury” blared over the heads of the metalheads at Donington Park, its pounding drums inciting claps as loud as an army march. As the piece of music neared its close, “Moonchild” sounded out of the speakers, and the anticipation level nearly made my head explode. With a burst of pyro, the band ran on, and I immediately began screaming so loud, I couldn’t process what was going on. This was it. 25 years in the making, the band was on stage, celebrating the 25th anniversary of their historic first appearance at Donington. The crowd lost their heads, there was singing and jumping abounds. “Can I Play With Madness”, “The Prisoner” and “2 Minutes to Midnight” had the crowd singing their hearts out and rocking our abounds.

Before “Afraid to Shoot Strangers”, Bruce then explained, “We were here 21 years ago, and back then, there were many things you couldn’t do. And one of them was organize a Battle of Britain tribute, have a spitfire fly over the crowd”, or something to that effect. The band were aware of the historical value of the night, and was in all-out celebration mode. The band continued through their set with tons of gusto, including a rousing rendition of “The Trooper” that sealed the deal on the history that was being made that night, and at one point in “Number of the Beast”, which always works its magic on the crowd, Bruce teased, “I’m coming back! We might return.”

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During “The Phantom of the Opera”, which is always sheer magic live, and tonight was no exception, Bruce performed his usual pyro trick, and asked us what was dinner, including “Overdone Sunday roast”, and even joked that mum’s got a very burnt bun in the oven. The crowd jumped up and down and sang along in delight, and even during the instrumental section, I got emotional several times, singing along to the guitar riffs. “Run to the Hills” took care of itself, and hearing the 90, 000 people clap along to the thunderous “Wasted Years”, the lyrics rang true to this weary Canadian traveler- you’re far away from home, you’re here seeing Maiden at Donington, make every minute of it last, you’re living in the golden years. Which inspired some very heartfelt singing along to this thunderous anthem.

Hearing “Seventh Son of a Seventh Son” only added to the surrealness of the night. The progressive metal classic was performed with the usual Maiden bombast, with the synth-drenched middle section casting a dream-like feel over the night. “fear of the Dark” and 90k English folks singing, Seventh Son Eddie holding his womb up to the huge crowd during “Iron Maiden”, the night was almost over, and hearing the crowd cheer and scream for Maiden was nothing short of chilling.

It was encore time, and as a means of bookending the theme, “Aces High” kicked off a rousing encore, with “The Evil That Men Do” making the crowd sing their hearts out, and at the grand finale, “Running Free” rounded off the night with two revelations: Bruce announced a show at the O2 in London to come a month and a half later, and to celebrate the history of the night, Bruce brought out a bottle of Trooper and toasted the crowd, tears clearly in his eyes. As the band vacated the stage, the big gig was over. As I made my way out of the park, and sang along to “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life”, there was bliss all over. I just saw Maiden perform at Donington. This was the real deal. I couldn’t believe it. As I made my way to the bus, I was on such a high that I didn’t think anything in love, as a Maiden fan, would make my year greater.

After an hour long bus ride, I went on facebook spread the good news to all the folk, and was asleep in my usual post-Maiden bliss, sweet dreams to come.

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On the last day in England, I decided to go for a lovely Sunday roast, and before I was about to leave, the pub, called The British Rose, had just gotten tons of Trooper Beer in- on tap. I knew I wasn’t leaving without drinking some Trooper on tap, so I had a couple pints, and left on a full stomach. A bus ride to Donny later, I arrived to the sound of metalcore act Parkway Drive thrilling them all. And then I got to witness Corey Taylor play a second set at Download, this time in the form of Stone-Sour. I was only familiar with a few songs, but I managed to enjoy their set, and my respect for Corey had only gone up that day. He was a. Fan of metal, and wore it loud and proud. He paid tribute to Black Sabbath, and sang his praises to the English crowd, joy clearly in his eyes.

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While waiting for Rammstein, I went and got some dinner, and then noticed a most unusual sight near the second stage:

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I went in and confessed to something, but nobody could hear due to Airbourne. Nonetheless, it was fun to do. This confessional booth was a gimmick they took on tour with them last year, and broadcast the confessions live to to the whole world. After a chat with some nearby folks, I walked the park a bit and stretched my legs, and then decided to go get a good spot near the stage for Rammstein. This came with a price: suffering through 30 Seconds to Mars. And honestly, I felt bad for these guys. Poor organization led to them being right before Rammstein, and in the wake of a very poorly received fourth disc, they went out like a fart in the wind. I especially felt bad, because they even had gimmicks such as big multicoloured balls thrown into the audience and animal inflatables, but I was not a fan of their live sound at all. Jared Leto seemed cocky and stopped the set twice to get people to cheer for them. Near the end of the thing, a group of people sat down, began booing them for wasting their time and began shouting RAMMSTEIN over and over, and honestly, I can’t blame them. I will always love Leto as an actor but his music will leave much to be desired for years to come. This is, of course, despite the fact that I love their first album. Space-rock with some industrial here and there.

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Now, I was excited for Rammstein, because I had gotten into them a year before, and saw live videos. Words cannot describe how good their live sets are, but one thing nearly ruined the buzz- a big bottle fight. That’s right. Bottles of piss and hay flying through the air, and Rammstein’s road crew even seemed unimpressed. Luckily it died down sometime before Rammstein’s set.

And then it began. Everything onstage went silent, everything in the crowd began exploding. And speaking of explosions, as the first few powerchords of “Ich Tu Dir Weh” began sounding, sparks flew into the air. A drumroll later, the curtain dropped, and the German industrial metalheads were on stage, working their magic on the crowd. Till entered standing on a sparking RAMM-cross, before he got the crowd singing in German. The band blasted through an entire back catalogue worth of classics- “Feuer Frei” displayed the band wearing fire masks, “Mein Teil” had Till torching a big pot that situated the keyboard player, Flake. “Buck Dich” involved an act with a fake dildo and firehose style ejaculation, in addition to a simulated sex act. “Du Hast” and “Du Reischt so Gut” and “Benzin” were also in the set, and the encore consisted of “Mein Herz Brennt” being performed on the piano, which gave everyone in the audience chills. “Sonne”, the penultimate song, got the crowd singing, with a burning Rammstein logo for good measure, and ending the concert was “Pussy”, where Till manned a big penis-shaped can in which sprayed foam into the audience, and as the band finished their set and Till, in a gentle voice, declared that we were fucking amazing, the band took a bow, vacated the stage, and let the lights rise as a piano version of “Ohne Dich” rang out of the speakers. And I think it’s safe to say, this was AWESOME. Words don’t do it justice, and that says something.

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And as we all walked, in a trance for the magic that the crazy German metalheads had put us in, all we could do was revel in the magic. It was a set that left people taking, even on the bus back to Nottingham. Another year was over at Download, and this marked the end of a successful weekend in England, which will never be forgotten.

In my next journal entry, which I promise will be shorter, I’ll be discussing a tale of two German cities. With two Maiden gigs. In addition to tales of German drunkenness, the Berlin Wall, metal bars, barbecues before shows, and what happens when a Scot, a Canadian, an Aussie and two Brits enter a train.

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I’ll drink to that!

SCOTT’S MAIDEN VOYAGE 2013: Frankfurt 2013 (a.k.a. “Schiesse: the world’s most important word”)

Well, I had quite the adventure to Frankfurt. I was up at 4 in the AM, left the hostel and walked halfway to the train station- but as time was wasting, I caught a taxi, bought a train ticket and was on the train to the airport to in seconds flat. I had to run to catch the train, and despite having not had coffee, I ran with enough gusto and before ya know it, I was on the train. Checked in for my flight and grabbed some orange juice once I was past security; I was then on my AirBerlin flight to Berlin shortly. I had booked with AirBerlin and was connecting in Berlin to Frankie- a 40 minute plane ride.

Getting on my connecting flight, I saw a few who were wearing Maiden shirts, knowing that I was in the company of some metalheads. When we landed, I ran into a Norwegian girl from the fan club who I met in Paris earlier, and we’d bump into each other quite a few times more later. We went and looked for the shuttle bus into downtown, but then realized that we could get a train into downtown for much cheaper. So we went down to the trains, and while the trains weren’t as impossible to figure out as Italy, we still had some trouble with the machines. But, we managed to get tickets and rode on the train, and had a nice chat about the upcoming gigs, Rammstein and a few other topics.

When we arrived downtown, we went our separate ways, and I went to the information center to find directions to the United Hostel. First off, this is one gorgeous city. There were a few fountains everywhere, some traditional German style buildings, and even a few skyscrapers. It turned out that my hostel was literally a few minutes walk away- if I had to guess, an easy 11 minutes. So take a wild guess as to whether or not I hailed a cab! I took in the sights and had a lovely stroll through Frankfurt- after all, this was my chance to stretch my legs!

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When I arrived, I had a bit of trouble as a result of my own clumsiness. When I booked back in April, I had accidentally booked for the weekend after- which was when I was to be in Graz. The guy informed me there were no rooms left, and is was almost in a glut of despair… Until at the last second, he found a room with one bed left. So I went to their computers, canceled the reservation, was refunded and then used said refunded money to book the room they had for me.

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View from the room… and for some reason, it felt like the late 90s again!

The hostel was pretty fancy, even for a hostel. It looked like a glorified hotel; the beds were very comfy and there were tap-key cards. We even had our own shower, and best of all- I was sharing a room with Matt, my Virginian buddy I met in Paris! Which was great, we had some nice chats. If there was a downside to the hostel, it was that you had to pay a €20 deposit for power in your room- which ended up being this useless book light. If you returned the light, you’d get your €20 back, so I guess it wasn’t all hopeless. Luckily I didn’t need it yet, so after dropping my things off in my room and having a quick shower, I went downstairs to the computers and asked on Facebook where everything was taking place tonight- to which Ian responded O’Reilleys. And I must say I lucked out with this hostel big time- for one, it was not too far from the venue, or the pub. In fact, it was literally a 5 minute walk from the pub, and a 10 minute walk from the venue- talk about conveniently placed. So I made my commute to O’Reilleys, and immediately spotted Banffie, joining him for a drink… which quickly became ten, with a steak sandwich thrown in there to boot.

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The Hauptbanhof

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Banffie in all his glory.

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This beautiful Norwegian right here.

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Bond girls

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Going back to my roots, if I do say so myself!

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With Tim and Brian

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The soon-to-be-Usual suspects

Hell, the night itself deserves its own journal entry, but I’m not one to pad out for no reason, so I’ll try to blow through it as quickly as possible. Ran into Tim and Brian again, who were on their way out for the evening, got a picture with them. We were then joined by Karl, a Norwegian who was there for quite a while- after all some of the Killer Krew were there too. We had a nice chat and apparently he won some things in a contest- including 007 cologne and a German coffee table book that had Bond girls in it, which lead to some nice discussion about the spy himself. Next to join were two Swedes and a Canuck, Johan and Niclas, and Hayley. They’d become regulars I’d bump into as well, and they had just gotten to the pub from a football match Steve played- where they met Steve Harris! I was pretty drunk and referred to Niclas’ grin as a “hipster smile”, which did not go over well at all with him (but it later became something they’d use against me, and something of an inside joke between Johan and I [at least]). Alright, not quite drunk. A bit tipsy. But more fans, like Craig from Scotland, and some Argentines, including Pablo and Rochi joined, and that was when we were informed Janick Gers was in our presence. Of course I didn’t bother him… yet. As you guys probably know about me, I am white the dedicated Maiden fanboy. I went to the bathroom and was then surrounded by Justin Garrick, Jan’s guitar tech, and set carpenter Spider- Spider was CLEARLY drunk. But they were awesome and funny guys nonetheless!

I then got back to the table… only to find out Steve Harris was there too, and after about 5 minutes, my inner fanboy finally decided I had enough of waiting and approached Steve for a picture. Of course, I was smart and didn’t rush up to him like a paparazzo, in fact I asked him nicely, shook his hand, had a few words with him and got a nice picture. Karl asked me to get one of him and Steve too, but sadly his camera decided to not work and no pictures were taken… not gonna lie I felt bad for the guy. But, at least he got to be in Steve’s presence yet again! After being in line to get a beer, one of the two video guys bumped into me and accused me of farting- or at least asked, “THAT WASNT YOU, WAS IT?” I then responded “oh, god no!” Having a killer enough periphery to notice Janick was right across the table from me, I diverted the fart joke to Janick, asking him if he did it, to which he responded with a hilarious “I didn’t do it!” face and said “Oh, no, I would NEVER!”. After paying for my beer in a hurry, I made my way over to Jan and had a nice chat with the guy. He is super nice, and you can tell he loves the attention. I got a picture with him too, and being able to meet two of my idols in one night made me speechless- so much in fact, after meeting Steve, I could not even speak at all.

It just so happened that Sean Brady, Adrian Smith’s guitar tech was in the area, and noticed my Tom Baker shirt. He immediately commented on it, and we got into a long discussion about Doctor Who! I was chuffed at the thought of this, as Maiden and DW are the two things I love the most (Rush being in third place for that). This even led to some crazy conspiracy theories flying around our end of the table as to which member was a Time Lord. I did mention that I thought it would most likely be Steve, but he seemed to think Janick was a more realistic choice. We’ll never know, I guess, but I can swear for the longest time that there is a Time Lord conspiracy that Maiden aren’t telling us about! After another beer and some nice chats, I was back off to the hostel to send an email, let the whole world know that I met two of my idols, and journeyed back to the hostel for a good night sleep, still buzzing with bliss as to what happened earlier.

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NIGHT 1
The big day dawned on me. I woke up on my top bunk at about 9 AM- earlier than usual, because it was going to be quite a day for me. I went for some breakfast- only to catch up with Craig again, had a nice chat with the guy over some coffee and breakfast. The next thing I did was immediately take to the streets to find a new voltage converter, both because my iPad need charging (and to a lesser extent, so did my camera battery). Amazingly, I found one for €10 not far from the hostel- a steal! I then went back and checked Facebook and answered to some emails, then went immediately to scout out where the Festhalle was. It was a ten minute walk, and not very hard to find- in fact, it was all a matter of “follow the signs”. After familiarizing myself with all the entrances, I went back to the hostel, grabbed my ticket, and went for some beef stew and beer at O’Reilleys. As I made my way back, I noticed that there was a protest of sorts going on- if I had to guess, it was a protest regarding fair labour practice. My German is quite limited, so that’s at least what I made of the writing on the folks’ flags.

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After finding where First to the Barrier was to take place- conveniently in front of the venue and near an entrance close to the hall, I met up with Schubi- Martin Schubert as his real name was- and get in line. Schubi’s a great guy, and his parents were nice too, though their English was quite limited. To be fair, Schubi’s English is quite limited too, but it was good enough for him and I to communicate. Now this FTTB experience was almost as annoying as Paris- but mostly because people seemed to go out of their way to piss Alex (the FTTB guy) off. I was getting Matt in again (after all, I owed him for Paris), and so he especially seemed to not be happy with what was going on- in fact, everything seemed to be happening that would make baby Jesus cry. The biggest problem was that nobody was getting in line- and I forgot my fucking number! I had to borrow Schubi’s phone to check my PM and see what my number was- but as soon as I told Alex, he have me the wristband and moved on. Also, people had tickets for the seats and parking passes- not even tickets- who won, and that flew in the face of what could have been an orderly handling of FTTB. I did not even wanna talk to Alex after it was done because he seemed so pissed and I was worried that I’d piss him off even further. To be fair, Alex had every right to be as frustrated as he was.

Let me highlight something from the FTTB confirmation PM you get:
“You must have standing tickets for you and your guest. No tickets – no entry.”

Hearing Alex describe it the next day was pretty hilarious I’ll admit,but I’ll get to that later in this journal.

It is at this point where I’ll mention Schubi bought me a beer! And not just any beer…

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This handsome fellow right here!

Now, a quick word about the Festhalle. Upon getting let in, I was stunned at the sheer beauty of it. Not many music halls can have the fortune of calling themselves over a century old. But it was gorgeous- gothic domes about, lights, giant windows, dimmed lighting, and what not. I felt like I was about to see the London philharmonic orchestra! In addition, there was a specific spot where Adolf Hitler gave his speeches, and seeing that was just surreal- Festhalle has a long history, and there is something exciting about seeing a big chunk of history in front of your eyes, even if it’s a horrible piece of history like Nazi occupation of Germany. Nonetheless, on a more upbeat note, seeing Maiden at a historical place adds something special to it that is beyond words. Also, apparently Cirque Du Soleil’s magnificent Quidam show was there in a week or two- imagine being there to see it.

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Schubi and I

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Sold out!

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So we were all let in, and Schubi had to piss. So I told him to run and go to the bathroom fast- luckily I managed to save him a spot. Of course Schubi is pretty tall and skinny, and he kept turning around to see if Sven was behind him (a friend of his, who I’d later end up becoming pretty good friends with!), which only made the space for him smaller! I’d told him, but he is a great big bundle of energy and honestly, who can blame him. After an impressive set from Voodoo Six, and buzzes with anticipation, before you know it, Doctor Doctor rang out of the speakers, and the whole place sang along- isn’t it funny to hear tons of excited people sing about being left by a girl to get themselves excited? Nonetheless, it’s an exciting and integral part of the Maiden show.

So, Rising Mercury plays at 8:45 PM, the place comes off the roof. Except this was my first taste of the German crowd- and what a crowd! Hearing every single note of every song be sung by the crowd was special, and they were the best crowd I’d ever heard.

After a burst of pyro, Maiden hit the stage with their usual gusto, though some sound problems did persist throughout Moonchild. Nonetheless, that was fixed in a few minutes time. And Maiden nailed it from the beginning to the fucking end. Though Bruce struggled near the end of “The Prisoner”, everything else was a go- the band wiped the place up leaving no prisoner left behind. Add to that some pyro, some magnificent audience participation and catching Janick’s pick near the end of the show, which I damn well held onto- when the lights went up, and everyone sang the Monty Python classic “Always Look on the Bright Side of Life”, another Maiden gig was over, and it was beer o’clock.

Back to O’Reilley’s it was. Ordered some beer for Ian and another friend, caught up with Justin, then back to the hostel in my usual post-Maiden bliss.

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This is thirsty work, making holy smoooooooke, yeah…

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NIGHT 2
The next day, gig número dos, was a bit of a special day. I went to O’Reilleys, caught up with Greg- a great French lad who only was doing the first Frankfurt gig, but we had a nice chat- he even was a fan of Doctor Who! We also bumped into Helga (Dee), got a picture together, and then off to the Fanclub lunch it was! ian and I took a cab- I paid, and was rewarded with a beer from his mini-fridge. For the first time I got to meet Martin and Sanja, a lovely couple who have a beautiful little girl named Elea together. She’s adorable, even! We also met some lovely people there, from Canada and other places in the world. I can’t remember the name of the restaurant, but we all had a great time together. I did have to head to the venue quite early, as I didn’t win FTTB, but an Austrian guy named Heimo who did win was looking for someone to get in, and unsure if he got my response, I walked from the restaurant to the venue. I was waiting quite a while for him, but he got there- I easily spotted him, because he advertised himself as a guy wearing TFF shirt with the Austrian flag. So I immediately approached him, and before you know it, I was his guest.

So thankfully, FTTB went smoother this time. Met some friends in line, and even chatted it up with much of the German FC. Alex and I were talking about how rough FTTB was the day before, and his descriptions were hilarious. This time, I got the same spot- well, roughly just a bit more to the left. I ended up on the barrier with Ian, and that was nice. Matt was right behind me, and so a bunch if us all in one place was a nice thing.

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The gig was yet again, a blinder! Though many of the people there were also there the night before, the crowd were yet again firing from all cylinders. Same setlist, and despite a hilarious incident during The Prisoner where Arry played the wrong notes in the second verse- and also Bruce missing the usual “SCREAM FOR ME FRANKFURT!!” Before the third verse in 23:58- the band were on fire all night, and played with undisputed gusto. From the pyro blast at the beginning, to Bruce making us all get on our knees and jump up during Running Free, we all had a blast and were sad the gig was over. Oh, and I caught ARRY’s WRISTBAND. I was crying from happiness!!

So, beer time was next. Had some beers with a few friends, met up with Alex yet again and boasted the wristband I caught. Then, it was off back to the hostel, first stopping for late dinner at McDonalds and then the hostel for some shut-eye.

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In my next journal, I sum up the whole Donington experience, and just how surreal it was to be on more historical ground. Spitfires, German pyromanics, Trooper Beer on tap- the list goes on and on.

SCOTT’S MAIDEN VOYAGE: Milan 2013 (a.k.a. “Preggo!”)

Well, I took a great sigh of relief after my check-in at the Barcelona international airport, because it was my (hopefully) last ever flight with Vueling. In case it wasn’t obvious enough from my last post, I can’t fucking stand that shitty excuse for an airline. Let me count the reasons why: the planes are old and custy as fuck, the legroom is minimal at best, and they pay the same fucking songs OVER AND FUCKING OVER. I lost count of the amount of times I heard “Somebody That I Used To Know”, and on this flight, it even played as we were taking off. I kinda had to chortle. If I didn’t have that Big Mac at 5 in the AM for breakfast, I’d have been miserable as fuck.

But, when landing in Milan, all was gone with regards to the bad. Actually, the first sentence of that paragraph is a lie, I landed at the Malpensa airport, which is an hour away from Milan. Thankfully they have a train service, because I wasn’t about to take a damned taxi for an hour ride and have at least €300 wasted. Ouch. The train was luckily only €8 for a ride, and I was lucky enough to catch one right the minute I got down the stairs, as it took off. The trains themselves are huge.

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I’m still unsure what that mist was supposed to be.

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It’s big. Yes, I’m referring to a train.

I really tried hard not to fall asleep, because despite having no sleep before the flight, I needed as much focus as possible for Maiden. I wasnt going to nap when I got to the hostel, because I wanted to get my train route to and from the nearest metro station all figured out. Problem with Milan is that they charge for the outside urban area, which I’ll explain later. After I arrived t the main train station, I needed wi-fi if I was going to get the metro route all figured out, so I stopped at a cafe across the street that’s as big as your grandmother’s retirement home suite. I had some Dolci, as I was feeling quite hungry and drained of energy (which I somewhat got back later). Basically all I needed was to get to a train station that had a stop that included “Rhofiera” on the line. All that and I was good.

I took a taxi to the hostel, called Minas hostel. It’s pretty much the top room of an Italian apartment complex; multiple rooms and no keys to lock the doors, which I guess wasn’t too much to worry about, as the owner had one of those doors installed, where to lock it is operated by a dial. Kind of like a safe, almost. But the owner would flip his shit if I tried to take a key to lock the door. Honestly, what if someone went berserk and went all Anthony Perkins in Psycho on me? Anyways, before heading to Rho Fiera, I seeked out a store that sold shampoo, because I ran out of my travel pack shampoo. I got a not too expensive bottle for €3, took it back to the hostel (only just around the corner, conveniently), and headed for the train station.

The trains themselves are as huge as the airport trains. They were even double deckers on some cars. I believe the ride was 15 minutes, and only a few stops. Luckily I paid the extra for a day pass that includes the outer urban area surcharge, smart move on my part. I’m surprised I could navigate worth shit, because very few of the machines have an English option and it’s frankly all “boobity boppity” to me, where as I can understand some Spanish and French. Italian I was walking on eggshells to find an English option.

Anyways, the Rhofiera looks like it used to be an industrial complex. The outside of it looks like it belongs to a factory and the Sonisphere festival was held in what was essentially a courtyard and parking lot. Predictably, as it’s a festival, the lineup was long as I arrived, and after a mishap regarding my paper ticket sheet I got in an email, I was told by the guards to go back to the box office and to exchange it for a ticket. Which was great, because I got an actual ticket, and not just that- it said “Iron Maiden” instead of simply “Sonisphere Festival”. Magic!

I’ll take a moment to note that I was getting good vibes the moment I began approaching the ticket line. In a few words, this shit was the GOODS! I wasn’t even inside the festival site yet, and I was excited, running on strong Italian coffee and no sleep. You look around, and notice bootleg traders, sellers of metal records, hot dog huts, beer salesmen, the list goes on and on. Hey, I’m a trooper, I figured I got past the hard stuff and deserved a beer, so I ordered a beer, and sipped away as I walked to the ticket gate. As I approached the site, the mood was more and more exciting, as I could hear Voodoo Six just finishing their set, and Ghost beginning their ghoulish set. And as I walked into the site, I heard “Per Aspera Ad Infini” ring out from the speakers.

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Gigging we go, only Metal on our side…

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With regards to one of the claims made above, this…

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…became this.

The site is bleedin’ HUGE. This is what every metal fan wants. This is what they pay good money for; a huge festival site, excellent sound, food hits, beer huts, etc. the list goes on and on…

Ghost were pretty good, but much to the bafflement of some of the fans, they didn’t play “Secular Haze”, but did play “Year Zero” (which is a bigger hit than the former). Nonetheless they played a good selection of some stuff from the new album and “Ritual”. They encouraged crowd participation when they closed out with “Monstrance Clock”. And left the crowd in some good vines, I must add. From there on, Mastodon was next, but I had 2 bands to go before Maiden. Well, I was also interested in Megadeth. So I went to what was a Red Bull van with a band on top. And to my surprise, the singer was Cristina Scabbia. Which I found odd, because Lacuna Coil wasn’t on the bill, but this was an impromptu jam session with Rezophonic, an Italian Alternative Rock band. They played mostly covers, including a ripping rendition of “Highway to Hell”. Knowing that at this point, Lacuna Coil are popular enough to headline big arenas, it was cool to be right at her feet pretty much. And hearing her speak Italian was pretty sexy, I won’t lie.

I’ll be honest here, Mastodon wasn’t my thing. I’d be lying if I said I didn’t find them impressive as musicians, because they really are, but an hour of pure wankery live is just boring to me. In fact, I met up with a member of the Greek FC, and he shared the same opinion as me. But next was Megadeth, who I couldn’t miss, and as predicted, Megadeth were nothing short of fantastic. They played a ripping set from beginning to end, thankfully keeping Super Collider stuff to a minimum. They began with “Trust” and ended with “Holy Wars”. They actually ended up playing a full 80 minutes, and that inc,used an encore. Thankfully Mr. Dave Mustaine had the decency to keep his mouth shut, as a few nights before, he was reported to have made some homophobic remarks, and according to my cousin Mike, ranted for 5 minutes about the US government on the “Countdown to Extinction Anniversary” tour. And whole I’ve always been against “A Tout le Monde” being a duet, it was done well with Cristina Scabbia. And before you know it, the funniest sight had occurred: Ashley Groom came out and sat to the side of the stage like a lug watching their set. It was one of the funniest things I’ve ever seen! He looked very clearly like the traveling was finally getting to him too.

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The award for “most photogenic Metalhead” goes to… the man behind me!

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It’s panini time, bitches!

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Anyways, 30 minutes of waiting, the lights finally dim, “Rising Mercury” blares, and the place erupts like a fucking volcano. It’s still light out, which did kind of kill the mood- a tour like this is definitely best in a closed top coliseum. But nonetheless I was still excited, and I had very little voice left, literally. And that didn’t matter when the pyros went off and Maiden came running onstage. They went on through “Moonchild” and “Can I Play With Madness” with the gusto of soldiers not letting invaders take their land, and the crowd ate every particle of it up. I was already getting a Latin American vibe from the crowd, as they sang to every instrumental part. I was forgetting that I could barely even speak and was all energized despite no sleep and screaming my fucking lungs out at Muse the night earlier.

Before “Afraid to Shoot Strangers”, Bruce even noticed somebody in the crowd who was a tad too used to him wearing a beanie hat on the tour, who had a sign that read, “Bruce, please give me your cap!”. Bruce responded by pointing at his head and saying, “I’m not wearing one!”. Too hilarious! And here’s a photo of that sign:

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Afraid to Shoot Strangers” was even more beautiful this time around, and brought some tears to me eye. To hear the crowd sing along to every second of it made me realize one thing- Europe is my home away from home, especially when it comes to gigs. While Edmonton has some amazing crowds, they’re nothing compared to this. “The Trooper” and “Number of the Beast” took care of themselves, and a real rousing rendition of “Phantom of the Opera”, which showed just how passionate the band are about their craft. The song is always a complete ripper live, especially with Bruce’s pyro demonstration and food puns, and the musicianship that is as powerful as a thunderbolt to the face. “Run to the Hills” was as amazing as it always is, even with Custer Eddie and sparkling pyro. “Seventh Son” was as hypnotic as ever, with the synth-drenched interludes and theatrics involving gigantic candlesticks and fog, “The Clairvoyant” was as powerful as always, and when you hear the crowd sing to “Fear of the Dark” and the Eddie comes up during “Iron Maiden”, there is nothing but smiles and cheers.

And then, a moment came which showed just how total troopers (pardon the pun) Maiden are. After the snare hit that signaled “Aces High”, the band ran on stage, but Nicko hit his snare too hard, thus breaking the skin. Instead of stopping the song and waiting to get a new snare, Nicko continued to play the snare parts on his lower toms until an engineer brought a new snare in its place. What a player! Any band would halt the performance, but Nicko isn’t one to prevent the crowd from witnessing “Aces High”, a song with tons of power and energy. Bruce still hit the high notes, the solos were as ripping as ever, and lead nicely to “The Evil That Men Do”, where Bruce said: “The evil that men do lives on, but the good is often turned with their bones… and so is the snare drum”. That and “Running Free” helped round out another successful gig on a happy and high note, which even beat the Paris gig, something I didn’t think was possible. Hearing the frenzied soccer crowd cheer Maiden on with the “Ole, ole ole ole, Maiden, Maiden!” chant was just beautiful. It was then where it hit me: Europe is a continent where its citizens are taught to love music like you would your favourite soccer team. If only North Americans could learn a thing or two from Europeans.

Getting out of the Rho wasn’t as much of a problem as I’d imagined. Despite 40, 000 Maiden fans to get ahead of, I was in good spirits all along, and even managed to make a last-minute catch-up with Dee and Tom Svartsyn before making my way to the train station.

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He really loves climbing that thing!

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Another thing hit me when I got on the train: I was tired. I fell asleep on the train, but I was lucky: I ended up at the centre of town, which wasn’t too far from the hostel (a good 5 minute drive), and a guy woke me up telling me to get off, as lines were now closed. So I took a taxi and arrived safely at the hostel, and to my surprise, when I arrived in the room, I had a roommate. He was another Canadian, an Asian guy who had been in Europe for a month already. He and I had a nice chat and I could get used to him, as he seemed cool and we hit it off real nice.

The next day, I woke up at 12:17 PM, a real change. I needed a good sleep after being sleep deprived and it showed. So I took a shower, and gave myself an hour to use Facebook and my email. I took a walk through Milan and explored, looked at the city, saw the sights, etc. I went to this one particular avenue that had shops, restaurants, bars, etc. I decided to stop at one restaurant for a glass of wine and to chill for a bit, and with it, I got some chips and bruschetta. Now, there’s where it occurred to me: I work in an Italian restaurant that’s part of a big trans-national chain. And here I am eating real, authentic Italian food and drinking Italian wine. After all that hard work and saving, and traveling too with little time to relax, I was living the high life.

I explored some more, looked in shops, and saw some architecture, when it began to rain. Well, not as bad as what came later, but I ran for cover under a huge arch, and when it calmed, bought a €5 umbrella from a salesman which, predictably, broke. Well, I guess I shouldn’t expect much from an €5 umbrella.

I went for dinner at a place on said avenue, had some more wine, and had Norwegian lobster on the grill. This was some of the yummiest stuff I’ve had all year. Anyone who knows me really well knows I’m a huge lobster enthusiast, and paired with the yummy Cabernet Franc, all went down together nicely. This was it, there was no way I could get a better Italian cuisine experience. Authentic Italian food and wine, in the country itself, it was, in a word, “magnifico!”

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Italy in touch with its Inner Ninja, Classified would be proud.

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I got back on the train back to the station nearest the hostel. When I got off, it began raining, and I mean POURING. Worse yet, this city was confusing as fuck to navigate, and I eventually got tired of walking around wet, so I hailed a taxi.

Now, here’s a lesson in linguistics, folks. Half of Italian is the word, “preggo”. It has a million different meanings, and Italians even have a hard time understanding each other because of it. And while thankfully none of this involved that word, it did involve pronunciation issues. I told him the address clearly: “Via Pietra Calvi, 18”. Well, he clearly didn’t listen and rove me halfway across town because of it. I told him, “I think you may have taken the long way, man.” Then, he tried to convince me I told him a location that didn’t exist. Even more insultingly, he had a GPS. I had him stop the car on the side of the road and very clearly said, “VIA PIETRA CALVI, 18. DIECIOCHO.” I didn’t yell, but I did say it firmly and clearly, and finally got some sense and used the GPS.

Having been drenched and soaked, I got back to the hostel and showered, changed into my PJs, used my iPad for a bit, then hit the hay early. I got up at 4 AM , showered and changed again, headed for the train station and caught the first train out to Malpensa, where a change of airlines and cities, not to mention a new country with a different kind if language was to take place. Two Maiden concerts, both sold out, in one city, and where epic events were due to go down. I’m talking about Frankfurt, baby. The city that I’m positive will take me forever to write about.

In the next installment of my Maiden journey, I discuss drunkenness, hipster smiles, band members in pubs, German fans, free merchandise, Trooper beers, First to the Barrier, event shirts, and a lot more. Auf Wiedersein!!! Or as the Italians say, “Preggo!”

SCOTT’S MAIDEN VOYAGE: Paris 2013 (a.k.a. “metal as phoque”)

Well, it seems like it is awful late for me to be writing about a holiday that happened two months ago, but I guess it’s better late than never, right? I’m sure you guys have seen the many photos I’ve posted on Facebook and what not, but photos only tell part of the story, so it’s time I told the story in my own words. So lets start where it all started: Paris, 2013.

Getting there wasn’t much of a problem; in fact both flights went along smoothly. I flew to Montreal and that took 4 hours; there was a 2 hour layover at the airport, which wasnt much of a problem. So I went to a local lounge and had some beers; and got a nice look at the monster of a plane I’d be flying on:

And a monster it was. I jokingly remarked, “is this a plane or a spaceship?” As I walked on.

When I finally got to Paris, it was about 8:38 in the AM. After a long flight, I needed a coffee and some breakfast, so I stopped a at a nice stand in the airport for some food. My plan of getting to the hostel from the airport was by train, and that was a clusterfuck in and of itself. It wasnt difficult getting downtown, but the downside of a city like Paris with many metro lines is figuring out where to go from the big train station. Having already been in Paris before, I took the train to Chatelet, as it was the closest Paris had to a “Hauptbanhof”. After wandering around trying to get wifi to find out the address of my location, I took a taxi to Le Montclair Montmarte, which is the hostel I stayed at.

Basically, I couldn’t check in for a few hours, as it was still 10 AM when I got there, so first thing I did was go and explore. I asked Rafi, who was staying there, if there was an electronics store, and he told me about Fnac. S the first thing I did was take to Champs D’Elysees, which is a long street with tons of stops. L’Arc de Triomphe is at the end, and so I figured that the first thing to do was to buy a memory card, as I was foolish enough to not take one with me.

And voila, I could take pictures!

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Basically, I went and explored the River Siene, and chilled in the Louvre courtyards. The Louvre was closed that day, so I couldn’t go explore, which was marginally disappointing. But after being out on my feet for a few hours, I was wiped as fuck. So after the Louvre, I took the train back to the station nearest Montmarte, which is just a minutes walk around the corner, and took a nap. I believe it was 1 PM.

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Widdly widdle. Shred shred shreeeeeeed.

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At about 5:30, I woke up, and freshened up a bit; and took to the station to find out the Bercy. I went to the Chatelet station and asked if there was a way to get to the Bercy village from the train station. Which there was, and surprisingly, it was a VERY short ride on the blue line, if I were correct, about 3 stops.

Bercy is a village that is well out of the urban/metropolitan Paris area. Whereas the popular Paris downtown is very busy and rushed, not very many tourists check out the Bercy village, which is nice. Is quiet and is almost like a utopia. Every time I went there, I got a sort of surreal feeling. It’s like a nice little private village for people tired of big city life where everything is “all systems go” all the time. There’s a few shops and a mini-village where tons of pubs and restaurants are to be found, but more on that later. I also got my first look at the Palais Omnisport de Bercy. The Palais Omisports was where the gig was being held (who knows, maybe they might play Stade de France next tour. I’d kill to see a concert there). It’s a very cool building, with grass on the side. It’s a little hard to describe with words, so here’s a few pictures:

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After that, it was a 10 minute walk to the village where The Frog was. And I’ll admit I was plenty nervous. I’m VERY shy and even though I’ve spoken with these folks on the forum, speaking to them in person is another thing. But hey, this was only the beginning. When I get past the hard part, it’s all downhill from there, right?

And correct I was with that very assumption. When I got there, the FC was noticeable right away; the biggest beacon is the Maiden shirts, and they were there in plain sight. The first one I spoke to was David Harris, who I’ve known for a long time, and finally after 6 years, we got to meet each tie her! From there on, the beers went back, and I saw plenty of folks from the forum. I’ll as it that many of them were nicer than they seemed on the forum; and really, that could be said for all of them. I can’t remember having a bad experience with any particular IMOCer; they all were nice and incredibly fun to socialize with.

So after some drinks, some chicken wings and all, I didn’t want to stay too late because, well, 1) I had to be up at 7ish the next morning if I wanted to get a good amount of Paris exploration in before the photo meetup, and 2) I was staying in Montmarte, and to get to Montmarte was a train ride back to Chatelet and another train ride back to a train station a 5 minute walk away from the hostel. So I was careful enough to not drink too much and got back to the hostel with no problem.

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They were yummy!

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Ian (left) and Rick (right)

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Ian, me, Rick and David

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Me, Adam and Zoe

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Me, Graeme, Adam and Matt

The next day, I woke up with my two roommates still sleeping, and I was tiptoeing to and from the bedroom to the bathroom, as I didn’t want to wake them up. As I have breathtaking OCD when it comes to this stuff, I got my change of clothes ready the night before and put them under the bed. So showering and changing took only a few minutes, and I went downstairs for some breakfast and to check my Facebook and emails. As soon as I was done, I locked my iPad in the safe and took to the streets for some adventuring!

The first thing I did was head to Notre Dame, which is a top tourist attraction for obvious reasons. For many who don’t know, it rests on an island on the river Siene, and has a tower as well, which many people can have access to for €7 a person. I was kind of hoping to explore the tower, but given how pressed I was for time, and how long the lineup was, I figured I’d keep it to the cathedral only. This was my second time visiting the Notre Dame, and every time you go, it’s really something special. It wasn’t as busy inside the cathedral this time as it was in 2011, and I also got to see more, as there wasn’t anything special going on inside- well apparently there was going to be, but obviously later as it was 9 in the morning.

I took to the Louvre pyramids for a bit too and relaxed there, and at one point went for lunch at the McDonalds there, as I wanted to officially say I’ve had a “Royale with Cheese” (correction: it’s actually called “Royal Cheese”), and I wouldn’t be eating for a long time after, as I didn’t want to be affected by the food negatively in the First to the Barrier line and at the barrier, as to miss the barrier in Paris would be a real piss off.

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Murders in the rue morgue, someone call the gendarmes…

So there began my 40 minute walk from the Louvre to the Trocadero, where the pics were being taken, when suddenly, the food got to me, and whole I was fine for a while, it got worse as I was getting close to the Trocadero (the dizzying sights of just how high the Eiffel Tower is didn’t help matters either). So I ran into a restaurant to use the restroom, and while I won’t tell you exactly what I had to do because I’m not gross, I will share a bit of a “hilarious in hindsight” moment: it was a pay toilet. For those of you who don’t know me outside the IMOC and IMOC trip, I was in theatre all through high school, and my last musical I did was “Urinetown”, a musical about a dystopian future where a drought puts a ban on personal toilets, and one toilet in the centre of the city can only be used, which you had to pay for. If you’re caught “doing your business” elsewhere, you’re brutalized by the cops and sent to “Urinetown” (spoiler alert: there is no Urinetown, you get thrown off a building). The toilet was 50 cents to use, and I wouldn’t encounter one of these later in my trip until Amsterdam (a rather hilarious example there, which I’ll explain in the Amsterdam article).

Back on topic, I got to the Trocadero in the nick of time. And though I got there at 11:58 (not a reference to a certain Maiden song), there were maybe 10 people there in total. But it would grow over the next few minutes there, and in comes Ian, also known as ScotlandBanff on the forum, who is completely hungover. He apparently drank 20 beers the night before and spent all night by the toilet. Never thought I’d hear that from Banffie, as he’s usually pretty chill!

I met plenty of new people there, and also met up with Rafi, who I met in Edmonton the previous year but didn’t properly hang out with as I and to catch the last train home. But I not only got to hang out with him this year, but two others I hadn’t previously known before: K-Man Donaghey and Don Wilson! They’re Scottish, and were every hit as crazy as you’d expect Scots to be when it comes to concerts. I’d spend most of the day with them, but more on that later. As for the picture: it was windy that day, and I had problems keeping the flag from going crazy in the wind! Another funny thing was our cue word was, “MAIDEN!” And when we shouted that, a bunch of little kids shouted, “MAIDEN!!!” back. We all laughed so hard! Those cute little kids.

After the pic, I joined Rafi and K-Man, and they got some ice cream while I got a Fanta. We then made for the Eiffel Tower, but seeing as K-Man was in a wheelchair, and knowing how BAD I am at pushing those things (more on that later), I let Don do most of the pushing, particularly down the stairs.

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K-Man and Don in all their glory, they’re here to kick ass and eat ice cream.

When we got to the Eiffel Tower, we encountered a bit of a dilemma: the lineups. The lineups were as long as the wall of China, and even more hilariously, Rafi allowed himself to be guilt-tripped by those charity scammers. “I don’t have the conscience for that kind of shite,” K-Man admitted. To be fair, do any of us, really? When Rafi came back, I told him, “Next time ask for their charity license!” So anyways, we knew the lineups would take until well into the wait time outside the venue, so I figured I’d try to go up, and we got a picture before they departed for the train station. And in an ironic twist of fate, I ended up not going up myself… because them phoque-ers didn’t allow flags! What a piece of merde!

To be honest, I really wasn’t upset, because I had already been up once. I mean, after all, when you’ve been up once, you been up all times, right? So I made for the train station, and voila, miraculously K-Man, Don and Rafi were still there. So we got on the train to Bercy- which was much longer than Chatelet, and some interesting things, such as Rafi pole-dancing happened. I shit you not!

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“And we still didn’t get up the fuckin’ tower!” – K-Man Donaghey

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I think the guy in the background is turned on.

It was already a real beehive of activity when we got to Bercy. Fans were queueing already and I didn’t need to, as I had FTTB and was Matt (IrritatedTrout)’s guest. I’d end up repaying him in Frankfurt. One thing we did need, however, was to get our event shirts. And it was 1:30 PM, when we got to Bercy village, so we went to the vendor and got our event shirts- I’m amazed we got any, really. Don went and bought some cigarettes while Rafi and and K-Man and I stayed in line; when it was our turn to buy shirts, they only had X-Larges and Mediums left. Tim “TP” Phillips and Brian had gotten theirs before us (I think) and when he got his there were still Larges left, but seeing as quite a few people were ahead of us, it was bound to happen. The France event shirt is probably my favourite out of all the event shirts- it shows Eddie sitting by a campfire, somewhere on the way between Paris and Amneville, roasting frogs and snails. If you look closely at his Beetle, the license plate reads “Ed666ie”, and a Seventh Son Eddie is seen in the clouds. Another interesting note is so,e gothic tree branches cover the first few letters of the Iron Maiden logo.

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Anyways, off it was to the Frog. And I’m amazed K. even survived my disastrous chair pushing! Anyways, I had a couple pints there, met some familiar faces again last night AND finally met lovely Plina Json, the Swedish Steve Harris stalker known as “Queen of Hearts” on the forum (“Queenie” on the free forum). She was really nice and really funny! We had a nice little chat and after a few beers, it was off to the Bercy to queue for FTTB lineup. I followed Tim and Brian there and we asked quite a few people where FTTB was- admittedly I’m not as good a direction follower and it took us a bit to find the entrance as a result. But we got there, it was essentially at the very back of the venue where guests usually aren’t allowed in. So I waited maybe 10 minutes for Matt, and he shows up finally- and so I saved a spot for him in line while he and his girlfriend went to search out a shirt. His girlfriend wasn’t going to see the show, in fact she was in Paris for the Paris part only. So whole waiting for him, it was pretty cool as plenty of people were chatting and having some beers- one of the French guys in front of me handed me a Heineken, and we had a few beers and chatted for a while.

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Catching some Zs before the gig with Jarno and Ian

One thing I didn’t like was how we weren’t let in until later than stated- I’ll admit, it was mostly because the jet lag from the previous day was finally hitting me- but when we were let in, in typical fashion, the fans decided not to listen to the staff, and run, which led to aggression (and rightfully so) from the staff. They’d yell “STOP!” and people wouldn’t listen, so I’d chime in with, “ARRET!!!!!”. When people finally got a fucking clue and listened to the staff, we were let in at last, and I got a spot at the barrier in front of Dave and H’s side. And what do you know, K-Man comes walking over and asks to be on the barrier, and I of course let him on! I wonder how he eve got there in so little time, yet even that early, and he tells me that he left the Frog not long after I did. Don joined us a few minutes later and got us beers. We all chatted and had a fun time. Then Rafi would come up to us, ANNIHILATED drunk. Oh boy, drunk Rafi is fun Rafi as I had read from other Maiden fan travel blogs (particularly Katatoniq’s) and he sure lives up to that claim.

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Now, the moment you’ve been waiting for: the show! Opening was Voodoo Six, who I’ll admit I actually really like. Similar to Lauren Harris, Joe Lazarus (the drummer) is related to Steve, and really, take V6 what they are: fun, guilt free hard rock with a blues edge, even some Stoner rock in aspects. They have some catchy songs, and unsurpringly, their song “Sink and Swim” has already become a meme amongst the IMOC, particularly “CAUSE THEN THE SHIP GOES DOWN!”.

Then Maiden hit the stage at 10 to 9, and the moment “Rising Mercury” blared out of the speakers, the place came off the roof. “Moonchild” came on, and the bombs went off, Maiden run out and the crowd loses their minds! The band was in full force, pedal floored, machine guns set to full auto all night. The setlist was exactly the same as it was last year, and every song was full of energy and fire throughout. “The Prisoner” had the crazy Parisians jumping up and down, singing along from start to finish; “2 Minutes to Midnight” took care of itself. Then Bruce made his speech to the crowd, in fluent French too. Bruce’s French is excellent and he has a great excellent, and another thing worth noting is that it was Nicko’s birthday, and Bruce led the crowd in a rousing rendition of “Happy Birthday to You” sung to Nicko. Then, Bruce, in French, noted that the next song wasn’t part of the Seventh Son era, and introduced it as song about a man going to war, and debating if he is right to pull the trigger. Which lead into “Afraid to Shoot Strangers”, and that was epic and emotional as it usually was. Then came rousing renditions of the usual classics such as “Number of the Beast” which had the usual pyro display, “Phantom of the Opera” where Bruce took full command of the pyro, “Run to the Hills” with the first “Eddie” appearance, where he was dressed as general Custer. “Wasted Years” took care of itself, and then the highlight of all the gigs, “Seventh Son of a Seventh Son”, with the scribe Eddie and spark explosions. One thing about the Paris gig was that Eddie’s head didn’t light on fire during “Iron Maiden”, but it would at later gigs.

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After a rousing encore which included “Aces High”, “The Evil That Men Do” and “Running Free”, another Maiden gig was over, and it was beer o’clock. Don spent much of the show at the second barrier, so we met up with him after the show, and we spent the walk there talking about the gig, and apparently Don got in a bit of a kerfuffle with a tosspot who was shouting at him in French for something he didn’t know (or “BOOPITY BOPPITY!!!” In Don’s own words). Anyways, long story short: beers, Maiden on the speakers, nachos, socializing with the fanclub and such later, it was a fantastic close to a great night, and on the way to the Chatelet station, I met a fan from the Middle East, who flew all the way to see Maiden, and right there, it hit me how amazingly crazy fans of Maiden are, they’ll fly to the moon to see Maiden if need be. He lived in Dubai, where very few Metal concerts go. Go figure, eh? And good on him for traveling to the city of love, the most beautiful city to see Maiden in. He was a dedicated fan, evidently. This is why it’s great to be a Maidenhead!

In my next journal entry, there’ll be a change of pace… and bands too: a three piece progressive rock band from Devonshire who go by the name of Muse. At a stadium in Barcelona.