So we went to Mayrhoffen in Austria for the annual snowbombing festival, which has been going for 10 years oooh. For us to get there, we had to enter a competition called King Of The Mountain. There were 10 bands taking part and it had to be whittled down to 5 bands. We were fortunate to get thru to the final five, due to our fans voting for us.
Anyway, the weeks leading up to it all was well and truly stressful getting all our flights booked and accommodation via snowbombings UK office (outgoing.co.uk). It was a nightmare, their site did not work properly and we got fleeced by having to fork out of our pocket for most of the whole journey. Now we're not sure if the other bands that took part, knew this, but beware any bands reading this. Read the fine print, especially if it's abroad, if you have to pay for yourselves, cause they do not tell you this from the get go. Deceiving poor bands without a label or any support. They know that bands are desperate and wear their hearts on their sleeves for that one piece of luck that will get them noticed. Bands/Artists/Musicians will go to any lengths to get their songs heard, it's their passion.
But I'll save all that for another blog.
Anyway, we found the funds and got underway to Austria. It morning start from Stansted 5am in the morning. You can imagine the look on our faces, some of us did not even go to bed, we batted thru with a few drinks and partying on a wednesday night. I know, partyiny??? Yeah well it is rock n roll you know, what do you expect.
We all got to airport with plenty of time. Then sat and had coffee and nearly missed our checkin time. Man talk about bunch of numpties. Anyway, with 10 mins left to closing the desk we got in and had just enough time to get thru security and on that stupid transfer train to our gate. Guess what we still had to wait when we got to the gate, so much for us rushing. Ryanair, yeah you guest it!!
We got on our flight and Adam chose to sit next to Val, so he could go on about his beloved nasty football team Newcastle United. She being Spurs, who had lost to Newcastle the week before was not impressed, especially when he decided to take his jacket off and reveal his Newcastle shirt and shouting 4-1 between every sentence. Valerie gave as good as she got mate. Letting him know that that was all the luck they were going to get and they're lucky not to be fighting relegation.
By the way Ryanair is so teef. Come on, for musicians it ain't cheap. The prices for their food on their flights, are atrocious, they already con you when you book flights, for £0.01 then charge you £9.99 plus £6 check-in, £7.99 for each piece of luggage, who are they kidding. Rather pay the full fare with an airline that doesn't mind your instruments, than be conned by these low flying so called budget airlines.
Anyway, we got to Salzburg, got our own transfer by train to Mayrhoffen, which was wicked. We went on these compartment trains, like the orient express, it was awesome.
We then ended up on some wacky train when we got to Jehsen something out of a old hitler movie, but quite quaint and romantic about it. It was a mountain train. for some of us who had never been skiing was a treat and an eye opener.
We arrive in Mayrhoffen, it was freezing, but the air was crisp, lovely as we were at high altitude. The view as breathtaking.
We got to our little guesthouse, pictures to follow later and set out bags down for the night, as we had no show til the next day, so it was time to PARRR - RRTAAAYY.
We got the Strauss Hotel, the main meeting point for all the bands and skiers alike, it was like a sweaty bordello. Loads of skiers, boarders, in their minging gear from being on the slopes all day, but it just looked and felt so cool. With music coming from the Sports bar next door, with bands playing at the Europhaus1, The Arena. So much to choose from. Champion Lightening Speed, Anne Nightingale, Stanton Warriors, The Metros, Pidgeon Detectives, The Dirty Pretty, god so many. Oh my word, not forgetting Calvin Harris, Madness, DJ YOda. We were well spoilt, plus there were some serious 80s parties going on with The Cuban Brothers. Tracksuit parties, each night there was people in all sorts of costumes, well mashed in the freezing cold. Excellent.
We plonked ourselves down anywhere the food and drinks were cheap and drank our socks off. Val was well cex as she was singing the next day, so couldn't indulge more for the rest of us tho. some pictures, but more to follow next week in our gallery.
The night ended with us well and truly wrecked. Getting back to our rooms at 4am well pissed and worse for wear. Roll call was 8.30am that morning and coffee and breakfast wafting up thru the doors of our rooms, was a welcomed smell. Chris decided to jump out of bed well early and get on the slopes rest of the band, those who had not been sick made it to the door for pick up for soundcheck that morning.
Val's scared of heights and was told that she had to go up in a cable car up the mountain where we were playing. Here face was a sight. She was literally in tears and we thought she was going to pull the gig, cause she just kept having panic attacks just thinking about going up in the lift hahahah, I know it's not funny, but we couldn't believe she hadn't thought about it before. Too late, we were here now, so she had to find a way how to get over it. Guess what she did? Sat on the floor, put on her sunnies and never looked up til she got to the top. each bump in the car, brought massive yelps, screams and cuss words, never even heard before. It was not a pretty sight. Show you piccies next week, you'll wet yourself. She was such a wreck by the time we got to the top, she literally ran out of the cable car.
At the top was breathtaking, but visibility was terrible. We got to the sight of our gig, to be told that it might not go ahead. Well you could imagine, we we're well pissed off. Not just us, the other three bands that was playing with us on the same day. Some of them had worn the least clothes I've ever seen in the cold, for their stage show hahahahahah. (sorry but serve them damn right), what possesses you to wear your long johns on top of a mountain with no coat only a hoodie. FOOOL.
I mean it was a great gimmick look, but hypothermia springs to mind. Then another band only worw plimsols up the slope, so frost bite was the next thing that was on the agenda. We, of course, was mega smart and came dressed for the occasion, cause mate, we couldn't even feel our hands.
We got up the mountain at 12pm that day and by 3pm in the afternoon, the show was called off and we had to make our way back down the mountain. The show had been pulled to the next day. In our next installment, we'll tell you exactly how that went.
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