OK, the Judas Priest bit; not really my hotel room, but the oncoming crew had theirs taken by the leather clad Brit rockers, and had to stay at a filling station an hour out of Bergen; and not the waterfront hotel with WiFi, mini bar and spar tub. Such is life.
Yes, this is the week in which rock hit Bergen big time. We missed Judas Priest, of The Priest, as they played on Monday whilst we were out, but yesterday as the gig by the Foo Fighters. The only question was would be sail into the sunset just as the band took to the stage.
As the days went by it became clear that it was probable that we would stay in port Wednesday night, and so the next question being could we get tickets? I know the shows in London were sold out months in advance, but here we were trying to get tickets less than 24 hours before showtime.
Rumour was that the 7-11 had them; I walked in, and asked, and for £50 I got the ticket. The others all did the same, and soon half the crew were going.
Only if we managed to finish work in time. And certainly the forces of evil were against us, as job after job was given to us. Whilst we worked on deck moving freight or replacing winch cables, others just wandered into town, apparently anything that was not work related. All during the afternoon we got to hear the soundcheck; or a continuous bass sound as the music bounced of the walls of the fort; at least it was something, though.
So, at half six we finally got everything done and lashed down ready for the early morning sailing today; and quick change and out to join the freaks, emo kids and goths walking to the gig in the park opposite.
Somehow they were going to squeeze 20,000 people into the fort for the gig, and most of them were already in as we took our place in the queue to get in; but it was pretty painless. We headed straight for the arena, and found places quite far back but on a slight rise which meant a clear view of the stage and the giant videa screen.
Within half an hour Queens of the Stone Age came on and delivered a great but short set. They are not a band I am too familiar with, but I recognised a couple of the songs, and they seemed very good.
Then it was the wait whilst the stage was cleared, for the main act of the evening, The Foos.
Thankfully then, there was so much entertainment around us. European fashion has always been something apart, and so it was last night. Tight jeans seemed to be the popular choice; although spandex seems to be making a comeback. And then there are the colours; red jeans on males; spangly hair bands that were popular back in 1981. And then there were the drunks. Beer was freely available, and paper carriers provided for people to carry six at a time. As the evening went on some became ever more tired and emotional. Some downright messy.
The Foos were stunning; they burst onto stage and played six or seven songs straight off without break for applause. A very impressive thing indeed. Dave Grohl said does the sun ever go down here as he squinted into the sun. Sunsets can take four hours here. And as the sun did begin to sink, the warmth lest the day and it became downright cold.
THe gig would have been great at night, but being Norway in June that would have meant playing until two or three in the morning. But it was good enough. And the energy of the band carried the crowd. 
They ended with a long version of The Best of you, or something. Anyway, a really great finish, which had most of the crowd singing along. And dead on ten past eleven, when the curfew kicked in, the band left the stage, and we headed out into the town to meet up with those who did not go to the show. 
The was our last night in Bergen, and so we visited our favourite haunts; Scruffy Murphey's and the Sloboat. Thankfully, most of the crowd from the gig headed straight home, and we found the bars emptier certainly than last week. We headed back to the boat as dawn broke, something like three in the morning.
And so, it's goodby Bergen, and soon enough, hello Tromso.
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| Foo'd for 20,000 or Judas Priest stole our hotel rooms. |
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