London, 10th - 12th march 2009

Ok, so.
Where do I start to tell you how incredibly amazing, awesome and super-cool it was?
I’ve been thrilled since the plane landed in Great Britain…

***

Oh, my God. I’m here. I mean, really.
There’s the custom, the signs say Entering U.K. Show passport, please.
I mean. I am really here, I have really done this.
I’m in Great Britain! There’s English people, here. They speak English, pay with pounds, drive on the left side of the road… alright, I gotta be careful here, otherwise I’ll end up run over at least once before Thursday.
Oh, my God, here we go. We’re in London.
Look at the houses, they look so British, don’t they?
Oh, God, I love this place.
Look at the signs, at the ads, at the shops… I can actually understand all of them, isn’t that amazing?
How cute, the bus driver calls every stop, oh my God, everybody here must be English, I’ll just pretend I’m one of them, just going home after a short trip to the continent. Yes, I can do that. Perhaps they’ll tell I’m not a proper English, but they’ll never be able to spot out that I’m Italian. No way. They can’t get it from my accent, that I know for sure. Plus, I’m not talking. And as for my look… well, I don’t really look Italian, do I?
So, I’m just one of them and…
Ehi, ti è arrivato un messaggio! Ciao!
Ok. Right. Now everybody knows I am not one of them. Just leave it, who cares?
Oh, my God, look at the cabs! I’m going to take one.
Oh, my God, oh, my God, oh, my God!
I’m hyperventilating here and my imaginary friend is totally overwhelmed. Ah, ah, who cares? That’s his job, isn’t it.
Beker Street, for God’s sake! This is like living in a novel.
Oh, my. I love this place.
I don’t want to go back.
I want to stay here and live here and speak English and read a newspaper actually understanding what it says and drive on the left side of the street… ooopsy, I’d better be careful, or I’ll really get run over before the end.
Here’s my cab. Hey, look at the taxi driver, he’s so British, hear the way he says Chester waaaaaay… I love that! And he does look a bit like Paul McCartney, doesn’t he.
Can you see that? That’s Oxford Street, then Hyde Park and … what’s that? Might be a theatre, or an opera, I don’t know. It’s beautiful, though. There! Look! That’s the London Eye!
I’m gonna die, I’m over-excited.
Here we are, thanks a lot.
Hey, why did he have to say Auf Wiedersehen?!
Anyway. here I am.
I’m so thrilled, so crazily excited of being here, I’m no longer sleepy, I could stand up all night long, I could… Ok, maybe I’ll take a little nap, after all.
What am I doing tomorrow, before the gig? Where am I going? Don’t want to see anymore of Buckingham Palace, Tower of London, British Museum and so on. Already done with that stuff.
Sleep, now! Cm’on, you’re gonna have a terrible head-ache if you don’t.
Okay, I’ll sleep now.
What about going to see a little bit of Soho? Carnaby Street and so on…?
Sleep!!
Right. Sleep.

***

A few hours later.

I’m awake. I’m in London. Tonight I’m going to see NW live. And that’s going to be just a little umbrella in my cocktail. I am actually in London, the city I helplessly fell in love with when only 14. It was love at first sight, if ever a human being can fall in love with a city.
You’ve slept about 4 hours. Won’t you take another, let’s say 120 minutes of sleep, at least? Please?
Right. Don’t wanna a head-ache at the gig, after all.

***

Hardly 90 minutes later.

Ok, I can’t stay in bed any longer, I have to take a look outside.
I’m walking, I’ll try the tube later, I want to see around.
God, this place’s amazing. Look at the people, they do look totally British, look at that woman, at her violet tights! And she’s wearing a neat, I’m a businesswoman black skirt on them! Not even in Berlin would people dare that much!
Here we are, Waterloo Station.
I’m having a coffee and I’ll buy a bottle of water as well. I can feel the head-ache approaching. That’s not fair, I’m not used to all of this. Too many exploding inputs, my eyes are getting crazy trying to watch everywhere and memorize every detail. My blood is pumping so hard I hope I’m not having a heart-attack here on this bridge.
Oh, God, can you see river Thames? It’s huge, and so large, you can actually say it’s a river. Looks much more like one, than the Spree in Berlin, let alone Navigli or Lambro in Milan.
Look left! Houses of Parliament, Big Ben, London eye… let’s take a picture of that.
Ok, look right.
Hey, I know that dome, it must be Saint Paul’s Cathedral.
God, it’s hot out here.
Let’s go on, you cannot bloody stand on this bridge for forever.
Covent Garden is just a few minutes walk ahead.
Isn’t that cool? Look at the flowers hanging from the lamplights! How do they manage to keep fresh flowers on every lamplight of this area? English gardeners!
Alright, I know what I’m looking for, don’t I. They must be having one round here… There you are! I’m buying one, that’s the perfect present for Sara, a T-Shirt reading My mum went to London and all I got was this lousy shirt. I love that.
Oh, My God: the salesman speaks english, I can actually understand everything he says, I’m not just standing here trying my best guess! I love this place!
Let’s go on.
I’m hopping on a bus, God, can you figure that? A big, red, London bus! Down New Oxford Street to meet Paolo and have lunch together. Fish & Chips, that’s what I’ll have. I am doing that. I am in London. I am sitting on a big, red bus, I’m having fish and chips at the pub, I’ll see NW tonight.
Oh, my God. This is too much for me. I’m going to die before all this is over. My head-ache is getting worse. Damn it.
I’ll probably have that nice little walk in Soho and then go home to rest a bit before the gig.
Oh, and I absolutely need to buy a toothbrush, since I forgot mine at home.
Right, I’m on my way. Cool, it’s not even 3.00 pm and I already bought presents for those at home (little bus & taxi for Luca and a key-hanger reading I’m not weird, I’m gifted for Ale). I’m smart.
Right. So. Cool.
I’d better go home, take a head-ache pill and try to sleep a little bit. I want to enjoy the gig tonight. For Christ’s sake, that’s why I’m here, am I not?

***

1 hour later

Right. Game plan. I’m supposed to meet Dean and Dave at Brixton at about 6.00 – 6.30 pm. I’m just in time to learn about my bus. Is that not amazing? When I asked my friend whether I could sleep over I did not know that he lives at about 10 minutes bus-ride from Brixton! There are three buses stopping every 6 – 10 minutes all night long right at the end of his road!
Oh, God. That’s it, isn’t it?
I’m going to see NW, to actually see and hear them, I’ll stand in the same place as they will, I’ll clap my hands and jump and shout or whatever I’m supposed to do. Yeah. I’m hyperventilating a bit, here. I just hope I can see Tuomas alright. The others I can just hear, plus they are going to hop here and there around the stage. But him, I definitely want to see, watch and look at him. No, I’m not going to stare at him with saliva dropping from the corner of my mouth. Definitely not. I’m quite sure about that.
Okay Brixton: here we are!



Gosh, it’s confusing here. How the hell are we ever going to meet and recognize each other? We only shared a couple of crappy pictures on fbk. Well, I should still have some money in my mobile phone. In case I do not see the two of them I’ll just call and ask them to wave their hands or something.
Good, phone’s ringing. But… what? It’s Mauro! Oh great, he just needs to babble around and my credit on the phone is getting low. But I cannot tell him Sorry love but I’d better save money in case I need to call the two guys I’m going to the concert with. Or can I. No. I cannot. I must hear him and babble something back myself.
Ok, done.
I hope there’s money left on the phone.
We finally meet, waving our hands while on the phone, as I thought. Fine, let’s go.
Good, I’m starting to be real thrilled now. I mean, really!
We get there after a two minutes walk and, God, that’s not our queue, is it? It is. It goes all around the building. Gosh, this is a queue. After all, we are in England.
One hour and a half later we’re in. We’re in, we’re in!!
This place is amazing, honestly. There are marbles, and white columns and balconies…
Four girls are moving like crazy on the stage, singing and trying to warm up the public. Well, they’re not doing exactly a good job, are they?
After them, Pain come on the stage and that’s definitely an improvement.
This place is getting crowded. And I get more and more thrilled, I really am!
Pain exit the scene…
Guys are hopping on the stage, getting it ready for NW.
Hey, this guy here in front of me is too bloody tall. I can’t see properly, we need to shift a little bit on the right… there. Perfect. Because keyboards are being placed on the left side of the stage. Exactly. I am going to actually see Tuomas from head to foot. Well, maybe not right to foot. There’s a boat on the stage and his keyboards are inside it. And there’s also a huge anchor at the right side of the stage. Cool, I bet this comes from The Islander.



Finally! There they are, right in front of me. Oh my God, they’re so close!
The gig starts, first song is 7 Days to the Wolf and when Anette sings Light a fire, feast fire is actually springing out of the stage towards us, I can feel the warmth on my face! As if I needed it. I feel hot, I bet I’ve been shouting and singing along without even realizing it.
Hey, it’s one cool song after the other, I know them all, I just forget some words here and there. It’s so bloody good anyway! No, it’s not good, is great and even more than that. I cannot even hyperventilate any more, I’m too damned into it.
Shiny red stripes of paper are falling down the ceiling. Yes, the answer is yes, of course I took one home.
When they play Nemo they pour white foam, that looks like snow, onto us.
There are fires on the stage, fireworks and sparkling lights. God, I love all that. They’re good, they really are. And Anette is awesome.
It’s hot, I’m sweating, I hope I do not stink too much. From time to time they blow fresh air towards us. Thanks.
After I wish I had an angel they leave, it’s over.
God it was good.
My ears buzz and I bet I lost my voice, but it’s too noisy around me, I can’t really tell. I wait till I’m outside. Well, yes I did. I lost my voice. After spending three weeks in February trying to recover it. I must have said that out loud, cause Dean is telling me That means you had the night of your life, doesn’t it? Yes I did, I’d like to scream, but my voice fails me. Anyway.
I am so thrilled I know I am not going to sleep when I get home. It was great and even more.
The guys wait with me at the bus station till my bus comes, then we wish each other good night and that’s it.

***

Last day in London

Alright, first I’ll take a shower. I did not do that yesterday night because the woman who lives here was sick and sleeping, did not want to wake her up. But I do need a shower. I sweated like hell.
What am I going to do today? First I’ll check where the bus to the airport stops, so I’m not gonna miss it in the afternoon. Then I want to go and see Camden.
As I complained about Carnaby Street not being as I remembered it, Dean said I had to go and see Camden instead. I’ll give it a try.
When I’m there, I am not disappointed at all. Not at all! This place is like a gothic heaven, it reminds me of Diagon Alley in Harry Potter stories! My eyes cannot see enough of it, they simply cannot. I spend three hours there, not even realizing it and I finally stop in front a shop with crazy T-Shirts that read, for example, I have not a drinking problem. I drink, I get drunk, I pass out. No problem.
God, my feet hurt, I must have blisters somewhere down there.
I suddenly feel tired.
That’s it, isn’t it? It’s over. My fabolous, gorgeous two days off in London are over. Must head home.
Right. I still have a few coins in my pocket. They are not going to give me back euros anyway. I’ll buy something to eat. What can I afford? A little, round bread with raisins in it and too much sugar on it. I am not supposed to eat wheat flour, but they’re not selling anything else, are they? It tastes great, how can that be possible, I normally don’t like sugary things. Might possibly be because I barely ate anything since my fish and chips yesterday at noon. Just a couple of crumbled spelt grissini and a thin slice of carrot cake. Which proves my point: I could live out of music and air. And a few drops of Evian. Yeah, I must confess I bought a couple of bottles of water.
Heading to the airport I suddenly feel completely worn out.
Might it be the adrenalin is over? Probably. Which means I’m gonna sleep for the next two days.
See you then.