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motleyfuckingcruee · 4 years ago

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Hey Jealousy (Vince Neil x reader)

Cool ! 😂😂 ok so this is the plot I hope you'll like it

You're Vince's girlfriend and you go with him on tour and Guns N Roses are the first part of their show. On the tour, Axl and you became closer which actually turned Vince jealous. Axl and him fought on the tour because of you and once you and Vince came home, you fight and try desperately to explain that you're in love with him and not with Axl. He gets jealous and says how much he loves you and will die if you love someone else. You kiss him and show him how much you love him

Requested by @antheasnow (i'm so sorry it took me so long to write this!)

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SONG THE TITLE IS BASED OFF OF:

Hey Jealousy

*GIF IS NOT MINE*

///

You smile as you watch your boyfriend run and jump all over the stage. He’s certainly got a lot of energy tonight. You hold your breath as Vince seems to almost trip over a chord for one of the amps, but he plays it off cool. You giggle to yourself. You’ve been with Vince for about a year now. You two are still inseparable.

“Hey (Y/N)!” You hear a cheery voice yell. You turn to the backstage area to see Steven, the drummer of Guns N’ Roses, sitting on one of the couches. “Come and join the fun! He’ll be off in a bit!”

You’re hesitant to leave your place. You know that Vince will have a cow if he can’t see you from the stage. He’s very protective and freaks when you leave his sight for even a moment. Once you went to the bathroom without telling him and he was screaming and yelling at everyone. It’s like he thought you were kidnapped or something. You decide to go join Guns, mostly because you’ve seen Mötley Crüe perform the same set so many times. You needed a change of pace. You walk over to the nearest couch, sitting down with a smile on your face. It just so happened that you sat next to Axl Rose.

Vince definitely was going to have hissy fit now. You and Axl grew rather close over the few months they’ve been on tour with the Crüe. You got tired of being by yourself when Vince would run off to party with Tommy and Nikki, so you made friends with Guns. They were rather quiet with it being their first tour and all. You don’t think they know how to act. Instead of going off to the nearest strip club or party, they stayed at the hotel in their little group. You and Axl just immediately clicked. Vince wasn’t happy about that. One day, Axl just said ‘Hi’ to you and Vince about beat him to a pulp!

You love Vince with all your heart, but his jealousy is getting out of hand.

“Hey, darlin’,” Axl greets you happily.

You smile at him. “Hey, Ax.” You look around to see what the other boys are doing. Your smile fades as a look of disgust covers your face. Steven, Duff, Slash, and Izzy are all snorting blow without any thought. Lots of it too. “Ugh,” You groan. You’d seen enough of this with the Crüe and it hurt to see your new friends to be doing it as well. Your eyes land back on Axl who’s smirking at you.

“You don’t like drugs, do you?” Axl asks, taking a drag from his cigarette.

You shake your head, “Not at all. I hate it. It hurts me to see you guys kill yourselves on purpose.”

“That’s an interesting way to put it,” Axl says thoughtfully. “It must be the ‘rockstar’ way.”

You shrug, frowning. “I guess, but I hate it. Once I tried to get Vince to get clean and he hated me for a good month.”

“How could he hate someone as beautiful as you?”

You blush, looking down at your lap. It’s no secret that Axl is very attractive. What with his sexy singing voice, gorgeous red hair, and pretty green eyes, how could a girl ever refuse him? The only downside to him is his temper.

You’d date him in another world. But in this one, Vince held your heart.

In a lot of ways, him and Vince are a lot alike. They both have tempers, really pretty hair and eyes, and are both the lead singers of their bands.

But you love Vince. You have since you met him three years ago.

“I think he was just really mad,” You respond, tucking a piece of hair behind your ear. “He got over it and was wanting to be around me again.”

“You know,” Axl says, leaning in really close. “If you were with me you wouldn’t have to worry about that.”

You smile kindly at him. “I love Vince. Nothing will change that. Axl, you’re a great guy and everything but-.”

Within a second, Axl is no longer beside me on the couch. I look behind me to see Vince beating the shit out of him.

“Oh God!” You yell, getting up. “Vinny, please stop! I’m begging you, stop!”

I try to go and pull Vince off of Axl, but a pair of strong arms hold me back. I look to see Nikki who has a smile on his face. No doubt he’s enjoying the fight. It’s been a while since there’s been drama on tour. And tonight’s the last night of the entire tour.

“Nikki, please let me go!” You scream over the other yelling going on. “Goddammit, let me go!”

“I’m sorry sweetheart,” Nikki says into my ear. “But, Vince told me to never let you get in the middle of one of his fights.”

You watch in horror as Axl finally gains the upper ground. Axl punches Vince multiple times and you pray to whoever is above that you don’t hear a crunch. Vince would be even more pissed if Axl broke his nose. Vince manages to get back on top, punching Axl in the jaw multiple times. Finally Tommy and Mick are able to get a good hold on Vince. They pull him off of a beaten down Axl Rose. Vince doesn’t seem to have many injuries. Only a busted lip and black eye.

“Alright,” Doc says, not looking surprised at what just took place. “I think it’s time for all of us to head home.”

Everyone nods in agreement. Thank God you’re already in Los Angeles. A plane ride home with a pissed Vince would be agonizing. A drive home is torture enough.

You collect Vince and go outside to hail a taxi. The way home was agonizingly silent. The cab driver kept trying to make conversation, but Vince would snap at him. He seemed like a decent enough guy. We arrive home, neither you speaking a word as Vince unlocked the house to let you both inside.

You go up and take a shower, deciding that Vince just wanted some time alone. You can’t believe that Vince lost his shit like he did. Well, actually, never mind that thought. You can completely believe that he lost his shit. You hope that Axl was okay. Vince got multiple good hits on him.

Once you finish your shower and got dressed, you head down to the living room. You find Vince sitting on the couch with only the lamp on. Normally, he’d already have the television on. You sit down next to him, not sure what to say.

“Why the fuck would you even talk to him!” Vince snaps, his gaze on you.

You hate how much anger is in his eyes. You really didn’t mean any harm. You just wanted friends. “Because he’s my friend,” You answer quietly.

“He only wants to get into your fucking pants! God, you can be so fucking stupid sometimes. I bet you’ve already had sex with him, haven’t you!” Vince yells.

You flinch. “No. Why would you think that?”

“Well you two are just so fucking close! I wouldn’t be surprised!”

You sigh. “I just wanted people to hang out with while you were out doing God knows what with Nikki and Tommy.”

“Then you should’ve fucking went to Mick!”

“He was with Emi.”

“So? You could’ve kicked that bitch out! No one gives a shit about her!”

You frown. “If that’s how you talk about women, I’d hate to hear what you say about me.”

“What the fuck is that supposed to mean?”

You glare at him. “You obviously hate me at this point, Vince! Ever since I tried to help you get clean, you’ve hated me! I’ve done everything I fucking could to make you happy and yet you still pull this shit with me! Why don’t you just ask me to fucking leave already? That’s obviously what you want!”

Vince is speechless, his eyes wide. After a few moments, he recovers. “I don’t want you to leave.”

“Then why do you treat me like you do? You act like an overprotective boyfriend in front of everyone, but as soon as we’re alone you blame it all on me,” You say. You feel a few tears fall down your cheeks.

“Oh, babygirl,” Vince says, scooting over to where you are. He envelopes you in a hug. You cry into his chest, feeling helpless. “I don’t want you to leave. I’d be lost without you. I’ve just been on edge lately. I promise I’ll be better, okay?” He pulls back to look into your eyes. He wipes some tears off of your cheeks. He smiles gently. “I love you.”

You smile, the tears still falling. “I love you too,” You choke out.

“You better,” He winks. That’s the Vince you know and love. “Now, come on. I’m ready to sleep for three days.”

And with that he carried you to the bedroom.

///

TAGLIST:

All fics: @the--blackdahlia @sugar-content @sharon6713 @siliwanoel @charlyallise @lo-bells @lauravic @livingdeadharley @kawennote09 @ozzypawsbone-princeofbarkness @hllywdwhre @abbysdogcollar @nikkisixxwiththebass @waywardprincess666 @tommyleeownsme

@rock-n-roll-soul-frankie @unholy-brat @eak1996 @madsthegroupie @sinningsixx @Kissyourrosegoodbyemotley

Vince: @moon-beame @jjjjjjjoshdun @malibubarbievince @honestly-fuckme @julessworldd @ubernoxa

All Mötley: @rhyetaylor62 @kaitieskidmore1 @thecrue @reigns420 @rumoured-whispers

#classic rock #rocknroll #rockband #rock music #rock #motley crue #vince neil x reader #vince x reader #vince neil

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catfishandthebottlefan · 5 years ago

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#11 - Heathrow

A/N - So I’ve been gone for a few days, because I’ve been writing this long fic! It’s over 5,000 words (sorry😂) I’m super proud of this one though, and I’m sure you’ll love it :) Enjoy reading it, and, if you enjoyed it, please leave a note for me so I know what to write more of or less of! ~ A x

Van had always loved you. Well, it was the first thing he’d said to you when you were in pre-school - despite Van being a few months older than you, at your primary school they mixed the first two classes - and you’d given him your cookie cutter to help him make his sculpture out of play-dough. Through primary school, you’d stayed friends, before drifting apart gradually in secondary school as you began to see him less and less. Everyday chats turned weekly, and you only saw each other when it was organised by your parents, such as at family barbecues or special birthdays. You never forgot about each other, however, and you’d often smile as a surprise “how r u, havent spoke in ages xx” would flash up on your phone when Van was away.

You were 16 when you had to call Van for the first time in a couple of weeks. You were stranded at Heathrow Airport after a terrorist incident, when someone attempted to detonate a bomb in Manchester. Your flight back from Spain (where your family were on holiday - you had to return early to be home in time for GCSE results day) had been diverted to Heathrow.

“Van,” you pleaded, tears falling down your face, “Where are you?”

“Hey, you ok? I’m at home, sleeping like every other sane person on the planet. Why?”

“It’s ok, don’t worry-” you choked back a sob.

“Y/N, Y/N, hey, why are you upset?” the concern in Van’s voice shone through, “Where are you?”

“I’m stranded at Heathrow, someone set off a bomb somewhere, I’m ok, I just don’t have enough money for a taxi home or a hotel room and I, I don’t know what to do-”

You heard a jingle of keys in the background. “Van, it’s too far, it’ll take you 4 hours to drive-”

“I’m not in a rush, are you?” Van replied, jokingly, as you heard the slam of a car door.

“Van, you don’t have to do this, it’s 3 o’clock in the morning-” you choked, as you sat, shivering on a bench outside Heathrow Airport.

“Hang tight, love, I’m coming to pick you up.” Van replied, reassuring you, “It’ll be okay.”

He hung the phone up, and you held it close to your chest, disappearing inside your hoodie. You didn’t know how to feel - happy you were being rescued, or guilty you’d had to ask Van to come pick you up. You didn’t have a lot of choice as none of your other friends could drive yet, but you still allowed a few tears to fall down your face as you thought of Van’s kindness.

It turned out there was no need to feel guilty. At 7:30am, you spotted the white Transit van come round the corner, The Streets blaring from the stereo. Van was, of course, in the driver’s seat, however, you were surprised to spot Larry sleeping in the seat closest to the passenger door. You leapt up off of the bench, wheeling your suitcase over to the van. Van jumped out of the driver’s side and wrapped you in his arms. He threw your suitcase into the back, which was filled with guitars, amps and other music equipment, and hustled you quickly into the middle seat of the van.

“Y/N?” Larry muttered groggily, as you wriggled past him into your seat.

“Thank you guys so much.” you smiled, pulling your knees closer to your chest under your hoodie.

“No need, I know you’d have done the same.” Van placed his left hand on your knee, “You’re freezing, babe!”

“I’m okay,” you smiled, leaning into Larry, “Thank you guys so much.”

“It’s fine!” Van replied, cheerily. Then, more sincerely, he told you, “I’m here, whenever you need me.”

Van gently put his hand on your thigh as he pulled out of the drop-off bay, and you felt a slight shiver travel up your spine. You told yourself not to be ridiculous, he was just a friend. As Van drove you home, you began to fall more and more in love with him - it was like you’d never been apart for all those weeks when life had come between your relationship. No, not a relationship, you told yourself. It was just a friendship.

Little did you know, he was telling himself the same thing.

You hadn’t heard from Van for after that summer. Stemming from him driving you home that August morning, you had begun to meet up more and more. You would sit in the park together for days on end, then, at night, you would get smoke joints in the playground and get drunk by the duck pond. This led to blurred, yet fond memories of Van pushing Larry into the pond, and drunk Bob, who was always a laugh. Yet, once you started sixth form, you studied hard for your A-levels, and life began to push you and Van apart again. He left to tour with the band, who were still relatively unsuccessful, but you always admired his optimism. You kept in contact via calls and texts, always just as friends, but you slowly drifted further and further apart, just like the space between calls. You got into Oxford, to do a degree in Astrophysics, while Van was still living at home, or was on the road with the band, living off a pasty and a joint a day. Your parents - who had now divorced - expected you to have forgotten about him, and your uni mates knew nothing about him, but you still longed for his company, and would sit up late at night, contemplating calling him. Once again, little did you know, he was doing the same thing.

You were twenty-one when your professor broke the news that you were one of the few students he believed was capable of giving a talk to thousands of younger aspiring scientists as part of a education programme.

“Like a TED talk, only for teenagers.” he had told you.

You were eager to take part, until you realised the large scale of the project. You had to speak for half an hour, non-stop, about the same subject you were writing about in your dissertation - yours being a division of Nuclear and Particle Space Physics. Worst of all, it was situated in a theatre in the west end of London - as if you didn’t need to feel even more inferior. You had six months to prepare your speech and background slides, and you threw yourself into it.

The project became a welcome distraction from your life at the moment, as, that December, your mother was diagnosed with terminal breast cancer. You didn’t tell anybody, not even your housemates, instead filling your emptiness inside with uni work, taking on every project or extra credit assignment you could. Your grades prospered, and you quickly became a straight-A student in every assessment. You somehow managed to balance this with the gut-wrenching visits home every weekend, to see your mum. Everyone admired your tenacity and effort with your work, and some people even became jealous of your success, yet they didn’t know the emotional turmoil going on inside your head, as your mother became sicker and sicker.

What you failed to consider was how quickly news spread in Llandudno, and, only minutes after you were told your mum was in the hospice, your phone lit up with a call from Van. You declined the call at first, as you got in your car, ready to make your final 3 and a half hour drive to Llandudno. Once your mother passed away, you had no further plans of returning. There was nothing left for you there.

But, then again, there was Van.

As his call lit up your screen once more, you connected your phone to your car’s Bluetooth system, and answered the phone.

“Y/N!” Van’s voice boomed through your speakers.

Quickly, you turned the volume down, forgetting how loudly you had The National playing on your last journey back to Oxford from seeing your mum. You had taken to turning it up as loudly as you could on your way back from visiting, to drown out your sobs.

“Y/N,” Van almost whispered, “I had no idea, I’m, I’m so sorry-“

“Van.” you said, his name almost croaky in your throat as you say it for the first time in years, “It’s not your fault.” “I should have called earlier, I just, I don’t know, I just didn’t want to think about ya. I’ve been missing you.”

You pulled over into a lay-by. If you were going to have an emotional conversation, you did not want to risk crashing the car over it.

“Van,” you mumbled, “I’ve missed you too.”

“I’m sorry I didn’t call earlier, I just-“ his voice trailed off, “I want to see you.”

You sniff, holding back tears, “Well today might be your lucky day. I’m two hours away.”

“Hardly very lucky though, what with your mum-“ he checked himself, “I wish this wasn’t, I don’t know, I wish the circumstance wasn’t as bad.”

“That’s just life, innit.” you sniffed, trying to force yourself to smile, “How’s things with you?”

You started your car again as Van began to tell you about Catfish, and how they’re on the cusp of getting a deal, and how well they’re getting on.

“People know us, Y/N, it’s mad. They say stuff to us like, put that one on the album, or don’t bother with that one, it’s shit. It’s mental.”

You spoke to Van for most of the drive, until you got to Wrexham.

“My phone’s dying, love, I need to go,” he said, sadly, “Where can I meet you? Mine?”

“What do you mean?” you replied, “You’re home?”

“I am now I know you need me.”

You spent two days by your mother’s bedside as she slowly passed away. You had been preparing for this for months, but there was one eventuality that you hadn’t prepared for, and that was a new kind of relationship with Van.

After your mum passed on, you had every intention of returning to Oxford, but Mary and Bernie insisted upon you staying at the B&B. You lived there for two months after obtaining special permission from uni, and you spent nearly every waking hour with Van. It soon became every sleeping hour as well, because it would be nighttime when the grief would suffocate you. Van held you in his arms, and it felt as if he was gently squeezing the broken parts of your heart back together. In the daytime and evenings, you would follow Van around to gigs, and you realised he was right about Catfish - they really were becoming popular, and the band who once played covers in bars were now getting their own following, and recognition for the songs Van spent countless hours writing in his bedroom.

You didn’t know initially, but you became his muse. One day, Van went out to rehearse at Benji’s, and you stayed home, catching up on some lectures you’d asked your friends to video for you. However, after two hours studying, your mind began to wander, and your eyes were drawn to a leather-bound notebook on Van’s dresser. Against your better judgement, you opened the book, to find some half-finished lyrics and songs which Van hadn’t played to you yet. This was unusual; he’d played nearly every song he’d written to you in the time you’d been staying with him. You read the unfinished lyrics carefully.

“Love her from the get-go/pick her up from Heathrow/whenever she needs me” - was this about that time when you were 16 and he drove for hours to come and get you?

“I wanna make it my business, I wanna make you my problem” - was this about how you had told him not to worry about you, and you’d deal with your grief yourself?

You engrossed yourself in the fragments of songs written in the notebook. You knew some, such as Cocoon - which Van had played to you before - were about ex-girlfriends. However, it was the ones you hadn’t heard before which intrigued you the most - a couple of songs called ASA and Collide. You only twigged his romantic feelings for you after you turned the page to see your name written with love hearts around it, paired with doodles of what looked like you. Stood next to doodles of him. Your name and his, written in a heart, then crossed out, then rewritten another ten times.

Your heart plummeted, and then did somersaults. Did Van feel the same way as you did? You traced his handwriting of your name with your index finger, engrossed in the way his pen must’ve danced across the page, broadcasting his thoughts to the outside world. Well, not the outside world, as this notebook was Van’s. Private. You sighed, feeling guilty, and snapped the book shut.

As you turned around to gently place the notebook back where you found it, you noticed a figure out of the corner of your eye. Oh, shit. It was Van.

“Oh my God, Van,” you stuttered, “I’m so sorry, I knew it was private, I shouldn’t have looked, I-“

“Y/N,” Van replied, calmly, “It’s okay. I don’t mind. I promise.”

“Is it true?” you asked, quietly, “The things you write in here, are they true?”

“Depends what things you’re talking about.”

“Love her from the get-go? Pick her up from Heathrow?” you questioned, “Are they about me?”

Van blushed bright red, and took a step towards you.

“It’s true.” he confirmed.

You wasted no time in wrapping your arms around his waist, and he pulled your head into his chest. You inhaled deeply - Van always smelled nice.

“I love you too.” you mumbled into his jumper.

He responded simply by stroking the top of your head.

The next few weeks were spent exchanging stolen glances, and secret kisses when nobody was looking. Cuddling him a little closer in bed. A cheeky hand up your top when you lay together. Your hand on his thigh when driving around to gigs.

It wasn’t long before people started noticing, however. Larry was one of the first to twig, when he caught you and Van sharing the same cigarette on the balcony, snuggled under Van’s jacket together as the typically Welsh rain bounced off the pavements. Obviously, he told Benji, Bob, and Billy, and the news then spread like wildfire around the town, despite Van’s quiet threats of “chucking you in that fucking pond again, you little prick”. Van’s parents claimed to have known since you moved in, however you suspected it was old Mrs Perry next door who told them.

You liked being Van’s girl. He would get oddly protective of you, not letting you walk alone at night, making sure you had a jacket if it was raining. He would look you in the eye every once in a while at gigs, and wink at you. Whenever you were feeling down about your mum, he’d hold you in his arms and the world would seem to be a less cold and cruel place. He loved when you wore certain outfits, and he would let you wear his favourite jeans and hoodies that he didn’t even let Larry borrow. He’d learn the guitar chords of your favourite songs, just so he could play them to you.

He was the perfect boyfriend, and you dreaded having to go back to uni and leave him.

“So where even is Oxford Uni?” Van asked, getting into the passenger side of your car, “Somewhere down south?”

“Yes, Van, it’s in Oxfordshire. Above London, but below Birmingham.” you repeated for what seemed like the thousandth time.

He reached over to kiss the tear which raced down your cheek as you pulled out of his parents’ driveway. You glanced in your rear-view mirror to see Mary and Bernie waving enthusiastically, looking as proud as your own mother did when you drove off to Oxford for the first time.

“They’re just happy because they can say I went to Oxford.” he chuckled, in an attempt to cheer you up. You didn’t respond.

“I’m sorry, baby.” he said, tenderly, “We’ll be okay. I love you.”

“I know, I just feel, I don’t know-“ you sniffed, trying to suppress the lump in your throat, “I feel guilty for taking you away from everything like this.”

“C’mon, Y/N, we talked about this,” Van sighed, “I’m only staying until after your speech thingy, and if I don’t like it, I can go back, and I’ll visit you every weekend and all that jazz. Stop stressing, please, babe.”

You simply nodded your head as you pulled out onto the main road. Van fiddled with the stereo.

“This is a lot newer than the one in my van,” he said, his tongue poking out in concentration, “How do you get the radio?”

You pressed a few buttons on the steering wheel, shaking your head. “You won’t get a signal. Here, try a CD.”

Van put in your Arctic Monkeys Whatever People Say I Am That's What I’m Not CD.

“Still think our demos are better.” he quipped, as The View from the Afternoon began to play.

“You’re gonna struggle being away from the band for all this time.” you sighed, sadly.

“I’ve got me guitar and notebook!” he replied, cheerily enough, “What more could I need?”

“Uh, your bassist, lead guitar and drummer?” you joked back to him.

As you drove back through North Powys, Van fell asleep, and you felt a warm sensation in your heart. Although your world as you knew it had crumbled in the past few months, you had Van. He was all you needed.

You were right about Oxford - Van hated it. He hated being away from the band, he hated the lack of underage drinking and antisocial behaviour, he hated the accent. But he loved you, and that was what made him stay. He slept in your bed in halls, much to the disgust of your flatmates, who made it clear that they didn’t consider him good enough for you.

“I mean, him?” Natalie said, her nose wrinkling, “What does he do?”

“What’s his haircut all about?” Molly jeered.

You tried your best to persuade them to be on Van’s side. “I told you, he’s in a band! They’re really good as well! And I love his hair!”

Although they never said anything to his face, Van knew your roommates didn’t like him. He had unspeakable nicknames for them as well, and he’d loudly use them on the phone to Larry every evening. Despite him claiming he was happy here, as long as you were together, you knew he missed being on the road with the band. University life was too structured for Van, too organised. The only part he liked was the student parties which would happen every Friday night, but he even wasn’t the same when drunk, without his buddies. There was no hilarious banter, no casual arson, no recreational drug use. Well, there was weed, but you knew Van and the boys liked something a bit stronger on some of those heavier nights.

However, partying aside, the most important part was the fact that you were prepared for your speech, which took place two weeks after you and Van moved back to Oxford. He sat right at the front of the theatre, looking somewhat out of place next to the clean-cut parents, professors, and other downright nerds that had come along to support the speakers. Despite his clear misplacement amongst the scholars, Van was the best supporter in the whole theatre, and he cheered the loudest for you after your speech, which went perfectly, due to all the hard work and preparation you’d put in. You didn’t bother telling him that it wasn’t a football match or a concert, and it really didn’t matter how loudly you clapped, as you were so grateful for his support.

Van also made an effort with your friends, telling them how good their speeches were. Sophie and Julian quickly made friends with Van after he tried his best to express an interest in their joint speech on Advanced Quantum Mechanics. They seemed slightly surprised that he was in a band.

“So, what do you do?” asked Julian, politely.

“Me? I’m the lead singer of a class band,” he replied, happy someone was finally striking up a conversation with him, “We’re right on the cusp of getting signed, me and me mates can’t believe it, we’ve grafted so long for it.”

“You’re in a band! That’s so cool!” Sophie smiled, “So is that like, your uni hobby? What degree are you doing?”

“Degree?” Van laughed, “I got kicked out of school at 15! I’m in the band, like, that’s me job!”

“Oh, wow!” Julian smiled, “Like Noel Gallagher?”

“Nah, I’m like a shit version of Mike Skinner,” he chuckled, “We’re called Catfish and the Bottlemen. You should check us out, we’re more popular up North than down here though.”

Your friends nodded enthusiastically, and you and Van turned around to head back to halls.

He sighed. “Y/N, I do really miss the band.”

Your heart sunk. You knew Van wouldn’t last long in Oxford, but you didn’t quite want to believe he wasn’t happy here. You loved being with him all the time, but also being at uni. Part of you wanted to ignore the fact he wasn’t happy, and keep him here until your degree was finished, however, you knew that would be like keeping an eagle inside a cage. Van was the type of person to get cabin fever; he liked to be on the road all the time, waking up in a different place every day. He needed to spread his wings and fly - he hated the normality and routine of uni.

“Stay till the holidays?” you pleaded, as you walked back to the flat.

“When’s that?” Van replied, deep in thought.

“Middle of June, just another month? Please, Van?” you almost begged.

“I’ll try my best, it’s just, the band need me and I miss Larry and I hate this tiny flat and doing the same thing every day and the people and-“

“Van, just stop.” you sighed, exasperated, “Before you say something you regret.”

You entered the flat with an atmosphere between you that could be cut with a knife. You headed to bed, and you heard Van going into the kitchen to make a cup of tea. You tried to snuggle under the duvet, but you could never sleep without him by your side, so you lay awake, staring at the ceiling. You knew when you came back that Van would have to go home, but you desperately didn’t want him to.

About 5 minutes later, you saw Van coming into the bedroom, and quickly closed your eyes, pretending to be asleep. You sensed him taking off his jeans and shirt, and the bed moved under his weight as he got in beside you. Usually, when he wrapped his arms around your waist, you would wriggle closer to him, but, tonight you rolled over and faced the other way. You heard him sigh, and although your heart was breaking and you longed to be held, your anger and sadness at the fact he was leaving meant that you couldn’t bring yourself to be close to him.

You slept fitfully that night, tossing and turning, having nightmares about Van breaking up with you because you didn’t allow him to go home and do what he loved. The guilt ate you up inside, and you found yourself snuggled into his chest by 3am. He stroked your back and kissed the top of your head, whispering to you that he’d stay if you needed him to. However, you told him he needed to go back - he needed to be happy. You remember falling asleep with tears running down your cheeks and into Van’s chest.

The next morning, you woke up to Van sat at the end of your bed, strumming a few chords on the guitar.

“What’re you playing?” you croaked, pulling yourself up.

“Just sorting out the rhythm for one of the new songs.” he replied softy, not looking up from the guitar.

“Van, I was thinking-“

“Yeah?”

“I’m thinking you should go back today.” you said, seriously, “I’ll help you pack your things, and I’ll drive you home this afternoon.”

Van set the guitar down on the carpet, and paused for a moment. “I don’t want you driving me home, love, you’ve got your finals in a few weeks and I don’t want you missing out on study time.”

“I don’t mind, Van, I really don’t-“

“Y/N,” he took your hand, “I love you so much, but, please, I can get the fucking train, okay?”

You nodded, as he disappeared into the kitchen and came back with a cup of tea in your favourite mug. You smiled as he kissed your forehead.

“I’m gonna miss you so much, okay, but I’ll phone you every night, I promise.” he told you.

“Every night, even when you’re playing gigs and touring, like a rockstar?” You meant for this to sound jokey, but it came out as bitter and resentful.

“Y/N, I said I promised, okay?” Van snapped.

You placed the tea down on your bedside table and started taking Van’s clothes out of your wardrobe and putting them in his suitcase.

“Y/N, it doesn’t have to be like this-“

“Like what? We always said you would leave after my speech, it’s the next day, so it’s time for you to go back.”

“I meant, you know, between us,” he continued, his voice getting louder, “I’m not breaking up with you! I’m just going back home, where I belong. I don’t fit in here, not one bit!”

“I know, I know.” you said, softly, “I’m sorry, I know you have to go, I’m being selfish. It’s like when you find a mouse as a kid and you keep it in a box under your bed and your mum tries to tell you to put it back outside, because it’s an animal and it needs to be free, but you don’t want to because you quite liked its company and-“

“Shh,” Van stroked your back as you choked back the tears, “After finals, you can come up and live with us for the summer, you’ll graduate, you can get a job, we’ll get a flat, it’ll be fine.”

“A little cottage by the sea?” you sniffed.

“If that’s what you want,” he replied, “I’ll always be on the end of the phone, whenever you need me.”

Van left, and, after you waved until the whole train had disappeared from your sight, you got in your car, turned up The National, and sobbed as hard as you did when your mum passed away. A month passed, during which you called Van every morning and evening, and texted him throughout the day, whenever you weren’t studying. You did manage to get through finals, after having worked your socks off.

Van had informed you on the phone that he’d been touring with Catfish, and they were getting so close to being signed. They had been called a few times by various record labels and were starting to get big, playing proper gigs of their own. You were ecstatic for him, albeit jealous that you were stuck studying while he was on the road. Your mind cast back to fond memories of being 16, driving around with no real destination, although Van assured you that touring at age 21 was very different.

Finally, the 18th of June arrived, and you packed your bags into your car and followed many of the cars, mostly driven by parents, out of Oxford and began your journey back up to Llandudno. You had been stopped at traffic lights for about thirty seconds when you noticed something shiny on your dashboard. It was a CD, and you instantly recognised Van’s scrawled handwriting on the front of the disc.

Listen to this and think of me, Van xxx

You smiled as you put the disc into your car’s stereo, and ASA - a song Van would play to you on many evenings when you were studying - started playing through the speakers. What made it extra special was the fact that he’d written it about you.

The four hours and eighteen minutes it took to get to Abbey House B&B were the longest of your life. You cursed every red light and traffic jam, and drove at the speed limit wherever you could. You just wanted to be in Van’s arms.

You didn’t even bother to park your car straight in the B&B’s carpark, just dumping it between two spaces. You grabbed the flowers you’d brought for Mary and the beers for Bernie, and inhaled sharply, bracing yourself for seeing Van. Your heart both fluttered and pounded at the same time as you marched towards the front door, your black Vans (you hadn’t put them on because they were Van’s namesake - they were your favourite shoes to drive in) pounding the tarmac. No sooner had you rung the bell than you were enveloped in Van’s arms - he lifted you up and held you close into his chest. The second he put you down, he kissed your lips passionately.

“Van, stop, you’re crushing the stuff-“ you giggled, between kisses.

“Where’s my present?” he complained, childishly.

You pointed to your handbag.

“Later.” you whispered, and he grinned. That would shut him up for a while.

“Y/N, love, it’s so good to see you!” Mary greeted you enthusiastically from behind Van in the doorway.

You handed her the flowers and her face lit up, as she handed them to Bernie to put in a vase. She hugged you almost as tightly as Van, and you breathed in the soft scent of her washing powder. Bernie greeted you with a firm handshake and a smile, and you handed him the beers, much to his approval. Van and his family felt like home.

Many hugs were exchanged that evening - between you and Van, you and Mary, you and Bernie, or Van and his parents. You initially sat having a beer with Van while his parents attended to the guests, however they later joined you for a glass of wine and a catch-up.

Mary and Bernie went up to bed at about half ten, so you and Van made the kitchen your zone, where you set up some music from your phone. You put your favourite Spotify playlist on shuffle as Van backed you up against a cabinet and kissed you with an undying passion. His hand up your top, your hand around his waist, lost in the moment. That was until Lemonworld by The National began to play. You went to hit skip, as this song reminded you of coming home from visiting your mum, and then all the feelings hit at once. What were you doing back in Llandudno, the town in which your mother died, drinking, snogging your childhood best friend, having fun? You shouldn’t be here.

You pulled away from the kiss.

“What’s up, baby?” Van whispered huskily.

“I can’t, this song-“

“Shhh.” he put a finger to your lips, and pulled you up so you were stood upright. He tipped your head up with his index finger, so you were looking him in the eye.

“Can I have this dance?” he asked, sincerely.

You nodded, as you followed his step around the large kitchen, being careful not to knock over any utensils or ornaments, in order not to wake the guests. The dance ended with sloppy kisses down your neck, and a heart full of love rather than sadness.

At around midnight, the lads joined you, Larry, of course, bringing the weed. He was accompanied by Benji and Bob.

“Where’s Billy?” you asked, concerned.

“Oh, he left the band for ‘personal reasons’ a few weeks back,” Van said between taking drags of the joint, “I didn’t tell you because I thought he was talking shite, but he’s gone.”

“Oh.” you replied, quite shocked.

“But we’re getting a new guitarist!” Benji announced.

“His name’s John and he’s a Geordie,” Bob told you, “A class guitarist, and a great lad, according to me cousin that is.”

You nodded in approval, as you settled into Van’s lap. As you smoked and drank, you felt yourself and Van rising higher and higher within your own, untouchable bubble. This was what you’d been waiting for all these months.

You don’t quite remember the boys going home, but they must have, as you and Van woke up in his bed in a quiet house. You went downstairs to read a note left by Mary.

Gone to IKEA with Dad for some new furniture for room 3, back at about 4pm xxx

“Looks like we’ve got the house to ourselves for a couple of hours, McCann.” you called, seductively.

“Sounds good,” Van appeared behind you wearing nothing but his jeans, “But there’s something I have to show you first.”

You followed him back into the bedroom, and climbed back into the warm bed. Van sat on the end of the bed, and picked up the acoustic guitar which often laid strewn on his bedroom floor.

“This song’s called Heathrow.”

He strummed the guitar gently a few times before singing the first lyric.

Love her from the get-go

Pick her up from Heathrow

Whenever she needs me

Watch her on the West End

Pepper up her best friends

Whenever she needs me

She was a different league

When I was nothing much

Meet her when the tour's up

Hug her like her Mother would

Whenever she needs me

Snog her in the kitchen

Dance with her to Lemonworld

Whenever she needs me

She was a different league

When I was nothing much

You found yourself in tears by the end of the song. You threw your arms around Van’s shoulders, and kissed his bare neck.

“You like it?” he asked.

“I love it. And you.”

#Catfish and the Bottlemen #catb #VanFiction #vanfic #van mccann #fanfiction #fanfic #band fic

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lafuerte01-blog · 5 years ago

Photo

It Is Only Impossible if you Don’t Try

IM Cozumel 2019 Race Recap

The hardest part of any story is trying to figure out where to begin. And in this case, do I start where my training began in April 2019 or do we start with race week? Or do you call this story, “A Tale of Two Kilgore’s” because (spoiler alert here) – one Kilgore trained her ass off and woke up at zero dark thirty multiple times throughout her 6 month training and had upwards of 6 hour long brick workouts while the other Kilgore just winged it and finished only an hour and a few minutes after the other. Thinking back, who was the crazier person? The one that invested time, lost sleep and spent a lot of money training, or the one that did next to nothing and still earned the coveted Ironman title? But I’m getting ahead of myself.

Let’s start with race week. Met up with my coach a few days before heading out of town for the race. The good news was there was nothing magical that I needed to know. I already knew it. I had practiced it weeks and months on end. I just needed to execute it. The downside was I was so amped up and just wanted to RACE. My mind was ready. My body was ready. Unfortunately, it was Monday and I still have 6 days to wait. So I rested. Or not really “rested” but went from 1.5 hour swims to 45 minute swim workouts. And reduced my wattage on bike workouts and didn’t run full sprints at the track. So I had 3 workouts to keep me busy, Monday, Tuesday and Wednesday leading up to my departure to Mexico on Thursday afternoon.

I was never nervous about the race. I was more nervous about whether or not all my shit would get to Cozumel. If my bikes would make it unscathed. If I would forget anything. Never doing a race of this magnitude, wasn’t sure what I’d need for special needs bike and special needs run. I prepped a collective 10 hours just packing for the race. And still had to pack for the vacation that followed! In thinking back, if I could just have someone pack for me, that would have reduced my stress levels 1,000%.

(Above: all of my OCD packing in action)

I realized during this time there was also no way that 2 bikes and 4 pieces of luggage along with 4 humans would be able to be transported in our Camaro or Altima. People talk about “marathon brain” in terms of forgetfulness during the peak of workouts. Imagine if I woke up the day we flew out and realized we didn’t have the right cars. Thankful that my brain was always in overdrive that last week so that I was able to connect with two amazing friends, Kevin and Jonny, to transport us and our luggage in their Texas sized trucks to and from the airport.

(Above: Thank goodness for friends with trucks!)

I learned the night before that my tri-sister Julianne made a sign to send Joe and I off on our trip. I appreciated her time in making something so badass!

The Flight Out (3 days before the race)

I don’t know how I stumbled upon it but in researching the prior host hotels/resorts and trying to figure out the math for the best flights into either Cozumel or Cancun, I found an American Airlines Vacation package that got us the best flights, direct from DFW to Cozumel with our host resort included. SCORE! Other options included flying to Cancun and schlepping our things on a ferry to Cozumel. More logistics made for a more stressed out Bethany so obviously the direct option was so worthwhile. While waiting for the plane, our gate was taken over by families and participants of the race. Joe joked this would be the fittest flight out that day. We met up with a couple who were being Sherpas for their friend. We also met up with a lady from California (Lilian) who was hoping to PR this race and get a sub 12:00 (she did! 11:50 was her finish time). She was with her two young ones and we were happy all our kids were appeased by electronics as it had already been a long day.

On the plane, Joe ended up switching seats with a family that was separated so the son could sit with his mom. Let’s face it, he needed all the good karma he could get! In doing so, he sat next to an IronFamily – Keith and his wife. Apparently Keith got his canisters confiscated at the airport and wasn’t sure where to buy them. Being the super anal-retentive person I am, I researched and followed every blog and Facebook group related to IM Cozumel and told Joe off-hand during a conversation that if they run out of air canisters at IM Village, we can go to the local tri store called Cabrillas. Joe relayed that info and Keith was super appreciative. It’s like they became best buddies that day. And they were buddies the entire weekend to follow- as not only did Joe sit next to him by sheer luck, but Keith and his family happened to be at the same resort. In the same villa. Exactly two floors directly below us. It’s truly a small world. After arriving in Mexico, we were in a bit of a panic as I found one bike but not the other. We literally were the last family out of customs because of this one bike bag being separated from the pack. And it’s not like customs is fast in any way and on top of that we’re on island time so we waited patiently.

(This is what Cozumel airport looks like when you’re the last one in customs)

On top of it we randomly had to have our bags gone through because that’s what must happen when you’re tired. So when we exited to get to our shuttle that had been waiting now for an hour and ten minutes, we got accosted by a tour group that posed as a front for our van service. After realizing they were selling us a tour package, I kindly said no and headed out to our van, curious if it would even be there. It was. And after hauling everything into the back we loaded in the van and took in the 25 minute drive through downtown to the resort. The downtown area was decked out for the race with welcome signs. The island was crazy busy with taxis and scooters everywhere. I was thankful when we finally arrived at the resort which was away from the hustle and bustle for some authentic, local food and rest. The family got to experience my favorite cochinta pibil and salbutes yucatecos for dinner. We had seconds of each. Dolores was the best waitress by far the entire time at the resort. We filled our bellies and went to bed.

Friday morning, two days before the race

After waking up, Joe and I assembled our bikes. It was then that I realized I left a second flat kit back at the house. If not already familiar, the Kilgore’s have notoriously bad luck at races with flats and spokes but I figured the extra flats I packed would just have to go into my special needs bag and hope I didn’t need a second or third tube before picking up the special needs bag at mile 60 on the route.

We went to IM village that afternoon to pick up our race packets, find our name on the IM wall, take obligatory photos with the Ironman sign, and look about the IM store to buy all the things. But since this was an IM branded race co-sponsored with Adeportes, the items weren’t as plentiful as many IM 70.3 races. And most of it was already picked over. But maybe that was a good thing because we got out cheaper than if all the things were there. We obtained our IM wristband, our timing chip, our race bags, all inside a nice IM Cozumel branded backpack along with a nice race belt. Because Joe is notoriously known for meeting up with random people he doesn’t know, we ran into my FTC teammate Julie Adams and her IronFamily and spoke with them for a while. He had worn his FTC shirt to go to IM Village in hopes to run into someone; it worked.

(Above: Awesome name placement)

While at IM village, my brother Brian arrived so the kids and I walked to meet him. After a brief hello it was about that time that Joe and I had to go to the mandatory athlete briefing. As we waited in the hot sun, we passed it off as “acclimating to the heat” and saw our IronFamily man Keith there. Because it was so hot and Brian just landed, we had him take the kids so they didn’t have to be bored out of their minds. After waiting a half hour or so after the scheduled start for briefing (again, island time) we got into the cool AC building, sat up front, and had a truly enjoyable time meeting our two emcees and announcers for the race. They made a lot of jokes which made for a lighter mood and helped us all feel special for what we were about to embark upon.

SATURDAY (the day before the race!)

I was thankful I spent the 10 hours packing my essentials in advance and took meticulous notes of the contents within (see picture below) because when we picked up our race packets, I essentially just had to place my Ziplock bags into their respective bike, run and special needs bags. Joe and I got up early to ride our bikes to and from the official swim practice site. Our bikes were tuned up before the race by Velofix but of course the derailleur was jostled during the flight so my bike had difficulty getting into my middle gears of my big chain. So I knew after our swim practice I’d need to get in touch with bike tech at the resort. I was excited for the swim and wanted to be able to feel the current that would carry us toward the finish. Unfortunately, my new goggles that I had only swam in 5 times decided to leak during my practice swim. And there wasn’t a kayak or lily pad for me to rest on to fix them. These are the moments you need to know how to handle during the choppy start of a swim start anyway. I pulled off to the side, flutter kicked vertically and tried to adjust my goggles. Still no dice. After doing a lap with my left goggle trickling in sea water, I decided to get out and reset. I did a second quick circle swim and things seemed to be ok. I never got to catch the current and was a bit unnerved that my swim practice wasn’t as great as I expected. But I got the experience of dealing with unfortunate circumstances and kept my cool. And it’s an understated important skill not to over exert yourself during a stressful start of a swim before a long race day.

After getting back to the resort, I was thankful to have an onsite mechanic help with my bike and I was relieved to not have to worry about it as again, team Kilgore usually has issues on race day with their bikes. We still had to transport our bikes and based on our bib number, we were the final group of the day (3:30-5p). So in the meantime we headed into town to shop at some local stores and shop for souvenirs. When we got back to the resort, the family headed to the beach while Joe and I lugged our bikes to drop off at bike check-in. We were the only ones on the bus that picked us up at the resort. We had time to rack the bikes, get a lay of the swim out portion of the race, our changing tents, and familiarize ourselves with our rack location and bike out. Joe and I both lucked out that our bikes were racked in the same group; mine was at the front of the rack coming out of the changing tent – Joe’s was at the very end of the rack. We had a long way to bike out but it didn’t matter – we would just walk our bikes and calm our heart rates to prepare for the long ride ahead of us tomorrow.

There was a bit of an issue getting the free bus ride back from mandatory bike check in. We waited 30 minutes before even being told there were no more shuttles running to the resorts. Apparently the bus we rode in on was the last one running but none of the other 10 people waiting with us was told that information. We met a guy from Cincinnati who graduated from Indian Hill High School- he was there with his wife and they were also doing their first IM race. Also saw Lilian there whom we met at DFW from California doing her 3rd IM. So after a few of us argued a bit with the IM volunteers about the free shuttle service fiasco, the group won out and we were able to get a bus to take us back to the resort. It was a minor blip I thought but to be stranded several miles away with no money to go back was a bit unnerving. Definitely not something I wanted a day before the race.

When we finally returned, we headed out to the beach so I could test out my backup pair of goggles in the ocean. After doing a few laps in front of the resort and snorkeling with the family, we got showered and met up with my friend Gloria for dinner.

Side note: you never know what random acquaintance you have from your past may mean to you many years later. In 1998 I went on a study abroad trip to Merida, Mexico and met up with Gloria Martinez. She was a dance instructor and as part of my cultural studies for 3 months, I learned traditional dances (baile folklorico) and became close friends with her. We stayed in contact, sent each other many letters and mixed tapes, and here we were face to face again after 21 years. It was just amazing. And she would be a MAJOR help and inspiration halfway through the run. I needed her more than I knew. But I’m getting ahead of myself again…..

During dinner Gloria met my family and I got to practice my Spanish while she practiced her English. She gave me a present, a local liquor Xtabentun from the Mayans. I had remembered having this while in Mexico before and it has a unique taste – liquorish and honey. In looking at the bottle we have now at home, apparently Joe really likes it – it’s almost gone! I had my traditional meal before any race, pizza, but wasn’t super hungry. I realized around 9p I needed to get ready to bed and try to sleep. It’s common not to sleep too well before a race. I think I got a solid 5 hours in.

Race morning

I woke up at 4:20a, 5 minutes before my alarm. I was ready. Graduation day was here! We asked the front desk the night before when the shuttles would start running; he said 5:30a. I thought that was late knowing our first transition (T1) opened at 5:15a. Not only that, we had to get to T1 to drop off our special needs bags, set up our shoes and attach our helmets to the bike and check tires for air. And after that had to catch a bus 2.4 miles upward to the swim start. But again, I trusted the information given. So after waking and getting dressed and having breakfast, we get to the bus line early only to find out that there’s a big group there already and the race organizers reduced the busses at our resort from 3 to 2. And the last bus that was coming was the one headed our way – and we were all hoping we’d get on. Some people were angry and hailed cabs. Others just waited (like us) and hoped to get on. It was a full bus but we were able to get on and upon arrival we frantically tossed our special needs bags to volunteers, got our bikes set up with nutrition and water bottles situated. We didn’t top off our tires; we didn’t have time. We just hoped and prayed they’d be ok. We walked hurriedly back to the entrance and waited in a ginormous line to catch the busses to take us to swim start. Met up with Julie from FTC somehow in all the chaos. Again, another issue as we got toward the front, the busses behind us were opening their doors to people waiting behind us so that by the time the busses rolled up, they were full. Participants were angry and the race volunteers were quick to act. We squeezed into a bus already full and took a seat at the very back. I just took deep breaths. Again, logistics are not fun for me and is super stressful when things get out of whack. Minor inconveniences really but seriously nerve-racking before a long day’s event. I ate another sandwich while taking the bus to the swim start. Things were going to be ok. It was then that I realized I had left my UCan back at the hotel. So I was a few hundred calories under what I had hoped but I also packed a backup sandwich and gel in T1. And I had been drinking extra water with electrolytes that morning. I told myself it was going to be ok.

Swim start

Once through the porta pottie line (after realizing they had one for males and females!), Julie and I got on our swim skins, put on Glide and eco-friendly sunscreen (to protect the coral) and tossed our final bag of the day, our morning clothes bag, to the volunteers and headed to our swim start corral. This being a self-seeded start, Joe and I had strategically decided to put ourselves in the 1:20-1:30 grouping. Julie went ahead as she’s a faster swimmer; we wished her luck! Next time I saw her was on the run – more on that later.

I knew I could swim the 2.4 mile distance in one hour and 30 minutes but also knew the current would be helpful. We heard the gun go off for the pros and started snaking around our corral toward the front of the pier. There were drones flying overhead. We waved. We caught up with the guy from Cincinnati and his wife. We congratulated them. Loud music pumping and blaring songs like, “We Will Rock You” by Queen and “Eye of the Tiger.” The pier started to become visible. I saw people tossing small bean bag sized pouches filled with water. People were drinking water and putting water on their heads to cool down. It was 7:40a ish and already warm. Temps were expected to be a real feel of 90 degrees with little cloud cover.

We were a huddled group of people and the sun was blazing. I caught sight of the ocean. It was wavy. Choppy. NOT like anything we had seen the previous days while on the island. This was going to be fun. I kept calm. We were in line with a lady who knew this was our first and saw our watches and told us they only last 14ish hours. Lovely. Again, nothing I can do. I kept fidgeting with my goggles- putting them on and off. Joe told me to keep them off because they would fog up otherwise. And that’s when I realized I forgot to wipe my goggles with the anti-fog cloth. Before I knew it, our group was “walking the plank” to the end of the dock. I placed my goggles on and just like that, I was in the water. I hit the bottom upon jumping in, not realizing it was shallow, so I bounced up and after 8 seconds, realized I had already pressed start on my watch. “It’s go time,” I thought.

The swim with all the people and all the waves could have been worse. I was thankful the swim out to the first of two turns was short. I saw a ton of marine life. There was a sign underwater – I couldn’t stop to read it but later learned it said “If you can think it, you can achieve it.” There were tons of scuba divers watching from the ocean floor. I would have loved to see what that swim looked like from above. I never got kicked or punched like others on the swim. I had people swim up on me but they swam around. I did the same when I came up on others. I kept with a pack. I rarely sighted- when I did, there was a huge wave in my face. I think I only took in one gulp of sea water. At one point I started smiling because I thought my husband was next to me. It took me a while before I noticed it wasn’t him. I swam with a pack of people and kept my pace consistent. I noticed a buoy on my right and thought they were to be on the left so I cut across and in doing so, I caught a nice current. But after a while I lost people. I saw a kayak. I was off on my own and in looking the rest of the group was on the left. So I swam fast to get back with the group. I couldn’t see ahead with the waves but didn’t want to be so far out on the right, despite the awesome current, to not know where I was. I kept up with the pack and found some people to draft off of. I caught sight of a yellow buoy. It didn’t make sense as most of them were orange other than to distinguish that being the half-way point maybe? I never checked my time or distance on the watch while swimming – I just kept swimming. My goggles were pretty fogged up by this point. I got off track again toward the back half of the swim and instead of making a tight turn at the red and final buoy, I instead made a long wide turn to the finish. It’s ok. I was finishing up and was able to climb the steps up and stop the watch. HOLY SHIT! I just had a PR swim: 1:23:51.

I took my coach’s advice coming out of the swim, no running – just walk to the changing tent to calm the heart rate down. I stood for about 15 seconds under a shower to rinse off before going into the women’s changing tent. My goal was to be in and out of the transition tent in 10 minutes. I had played and replayed in my head the things to do while in T1. I ended up doing a full change out from my tri suit and swim skin to bra, bike shorts and a bike top. I had a shower pill towel and a sturdy hand towel to help wipe away any remaining salt. Salt = chafe and I took a squirt bottle (tip courtesy of Jessica Marchi) full of water and sprayed between cracks and bits. Once done, I lightly toweled off an put on my bike shorts with Hoo Ha Ride Glide. I got volunteers to put sunscreen on my body. Slipped on my HR monitor. Ate my backup sandwich and drank my water. I just burned about 600 calories on the swim and needed to top off before setting off to ride. I put on my socks and headed out to my bike. Got my helmet, clipped it on, got my shoes on and walked the long walk to bike out. I checked Joe’s bike rack; his bike was still there. I got nervous. He’s a better swimmer; assumed he got caught up in the changing tent. I figured he’d be right behind me in no time on the bike. Total transition time: 17:02

At the mount line, I was keeping heart rate calm and take it easy. Even a veteran said everyone goes out fast on the first loop. I had written in permanent market on my leg my metrics for the race: 130-140 power, 78-82 cadence, 135 heart rate. I rode out and set off for a comfortable ride.

The Bike

What I was told to do by my coach was to stop every 20 miles and to pee at mile 40 and 80. There were approximately 5 rest stops around the island for the 38ish mile loop. For some strange reason, on my first loop, I decided to hit every single stop and pee at mile 20. I don’t know why I did this but I realized my error after the first lap when I saw Joe. It didn’t make sense that I was coming up on him around mile 46 when his bike was on the rack when I biked out. It took a nanosecond for me to realize my error. In hindsight, that extra 2 minutes per stop was ok; I wanted to take it easy. My HR was averaging 154 and wasn’t budging despite the easy effort. I attributed it to the heat. I also noticed on the first loop my power didn’t seem to be accurate. The day before I noticed this as well and texted the coach; asked if that happened what metric to follow – cadence or HR. Because the course is flat, he suggested both. I kept true to my cadence and only pushed it when I had to make a legal pass or had to back off when someone overtook me. Second loop was faster, I know I pushed it but I felt ok. I ended up grabbing water every 20 miles to top off my bottles and spray myself down (my cooling sleeves, my core, my head). I saw my brother and kids on the second loop of the bike course; got a shout out from someone there who saw my Hotter than Hell jersey and said, “GO TEXAS!” The back half of the island was beautiful. The extra elevation gain was there along with the wind. Thankful I didn’t have to deal with a lot of wind that day and I knew how to climb hills now so I didn’t let the back half deter me. I got to my special needs bag around mile 60 and reset my fuel. Checked my tires, they were ok so I rode on without the extra canisters or tubes placed within.

The final lap is soul sucking. You know what to expect which is a blessing and a curse. The ride through the city was uplifting; you just have to mentally will yourself to the next aide station and hope for some crazy fans out there to support you. Saw my brother and kids again; got the boost I needed but then had the east side of the island with the hill and unrelenting sun. I wanted to take in the scenery, the ocean was beautiful and the blue sea mixed with the blue sky only interrupted by the white ocean spray that crested and crashed into the rocky coast. I noticed the pack was thinning; there was a collective miserable feeling around everyone. I passed someone and he said, “you’re looking strong.” I muttered something back – I don’t know if it was comprehensible. I knew I was coming up on mile 90 and after mile 100 every mile after that would be a distance PR. It was also about this time that I noticed I was getting tired of eating my gels. No worries I told myself- I had packed a glorious PB&J sandwich in my T2 bag. I’d have real food soon. And there’d be more on the run course. I stopped at a final aide station around mile 100 to get more ice and water and sprayed myself down. The first table there had ran out of water bottles so I had to get off the bike and wait for them to get more water to pour into my bottles. The bike course was pretty sparse by then and things picked over. By the time I hit the bike in, I honestly don’t remember anything. I know I was able to get off the bike OK (surprising in and of itself), grab a bottle off my bike and my coach’s bike computer before handing over my bike to a volunteer. Total bike time: 6:49:04.

In the T2 changing tent, I looked around. It looked desolate. I checked the time – I seemed to be doing ok. I asked a volunteer what the local time was. It was early evening – about 4p. I had plenty of time. Did another full change out from bike clothes to run clothes. Chuckled to myself that I was feeling like Beyonce with all of her change of clothes. I was salt crusted and legs were dirty. Took 2 shower pills to clean off. I wanted to clean off to feel better. I wiped my face. I put on my hat, my running shoes, my running belt and grabbed my sandwich and headed out to start the final 26.2 miles of this race. Total time in T2: 19:34.

The Run

I got up and my feet HURT. My arches were super sore. I walked out of the tent and tried to calm my HR down. I felt dizzy. I grabbed water from a volunteer but didn’t feel any better. My watch chimed 30 seconds into the run. What the hell? I had thought I programmed it for a 90 second run and 30 second walk. NOPE. Forgot the last run I had was programmed from my 30 second sprint track workout and 3 minute walk. I attempted to change the intervals but my watch said I couldn’t change while an event was in progress. GRRR. I know what I had to do – this happened at my Houston Marathon where I didn’t have my watch intervals set correctly and had to do it manually – watching the time. It was going to be a long fucking run. While I had PRd my run in Houston that day, this was not going to happen today. It would however keep my mind “busy” and distracted from the feeling I was having while running. Funny because all day I was looking forward to the run and now I was trying to figure out how I was going to continue. Anyone that knows me knows that math isn’t my sweet spot. So my 90:30 run walk intervals weren’t always accurate. I gave myself grace. Didn’t matter. Go by feel. Get some food in you. I tried but my stomach started to heave. I made it 2 miles by this point and needed food ASAP. I recalled that if I couldn’t eat, to at least chew food and spit it out. Even taking food into my mouth made me gag. And my water bottle filled with electrolytes were equally painful to digest. I got dizzy again and tripped and almost fell but by the grace of God caught myself from falling flat on my face. Negative thoughts started creeping in. It was only 2 miles into a 26.2 mile run and I couldn’t eat or drink and was dizzy. I started looking for a medical tent. I never saw one. Honestly – the one time I did see a medic was the last 2-3 miles of my run and by that point, I wasn’t stopping! In looking around, I saw FTC teammate Julie on her run. She was running fast; I was walking. I said hi and she gave me a look that said, “this is miserable.” She was ahead of me and looked strong. Little did I know she crashed on the bike and was bleeding from her knee. She’s a total badass. Was that her first loop? Second? Third? Everyone looked fresh and running fast. I just kept looking at my watch, doing fuzzy math, putting one foot in front of the other.

Along the way, someone asked me if this was a 3 looped course. I said yes. Knowing that, I was near the turnaround by then and felt better for a bit. Around mile 6 or so, a supporter saw me and I guess I looked like death warmed over. He approached me as I walked and said, “Drink the flat Pepsi. Trust me runner. Drink it. And chase it with a lot of water. It will do miracles for you! I know this to be true!” I looked at him and said I can’t keep anything down. I was nervous if I drank it I would get sick. I didn’t want to get sick and get stuck in a medical tent. I just wanted to be done. But I ran off, got to the next table and took the Dixie cup of flat Pepsi and a small water pouch to chase it. It worked. I felt better. The sugar helped. I tried to eat- still nothing. Small bits of food here and there that I chewed and spat out. After the first loop, I felt a bit better.

I saw Gloria on the run while downtown. The crowd was festive. There were still plenty of people on the run. I would be ok. After the cheers of the crowd and the noise subsided, I started working on a game plan. That’s when my Garmin gave me a low battery warning. Shit. Shit shit shit. OK. New plan – focus on food. I saw a table with oranges and bananas and pretzels. I had an orange and it was glorious. Yes. FOOD! Then I got to the banana. Nope. Couldn’t stomach it. I nibbled, chewed and spat a half a banana out. More flat Pepsi and water. Would grab the pretzels on the way back. Realized I had to focus on my run/walk intervals if my watch died before I finished the race. I counted my steps for the run. 336 steps for 90 seconds of running; 26 steps for 30 seconds of rest. I did this several times before I realized running for 90 seconds was too much. My body was too weak. It was getting late and the sun setting. I approached the turn around and looked feverishly for the special needs tent for my bag at mile 13. I had more food in there but didn’t take it. I grabbed my head lamp but in hindsight I didn’t need it. I grabbed my light jacket thinking I would get cold as the night settled in, especially with the wind near the sea wall going back into town. I wrapped the jacket around me and kept running. Then my watch died around mile 14. Not that I was disappointed that I didn’t save my watch during the bike, but that I was running blind. No way to tell if my pace was going super slow or not.

I saw Joe twice on the run; both times it was when I was going the opposite direction back into town to complete my loops. He yelled to me, “You’ll finish – you have plenty of time. You’ll get yours.” I wanted to yell back- maybe I did? I can’t recall. I was in a dark place. You’d think going into town you’d pick up the excitement. Mine was the reverse. I hit my lowest point around miles 17-19. It was at this time that Gloria saw me coming into town and ran with me. She told me I was doing good. That she was proud of me. That I have 2.5 hours to finish one more lap. She was willing to get me anything I needed, do anything for me. I knew it was against IM rules to have someone run and walk beside you but I could not tell her no. Selfishly I needed her. She was my angel and my saving grace those miles. As we approached downtown, I told Gloria that she would not be allowed to run with me or be next to me. Shortly thereafter an IM official came up and told Gloria she needed to let me be. Gloria asked why and she was told the rule and after giving a very mad face to the volunteer, Gloria wished me well.

Being as tired and as dizzy as I was, I just wanted to quit. I felt horrible. I was right in town so if I wanted to quit, I could just walk up to my family and say, “I tried.” At one point I humored myself that I couldn’t quit because I had already bought things that said I was an Ironman at IM Village a few days before. That got me ahead mentally for a half mile or so. But I also just needed to be done. The run was more mental than anything. I had to give myself something to look forward to. Mile 20. That was the new goal. I could get to mile 20 and feel fine, I told myself. More oranges and bananas. I forced a banana down around that time, thinking I could vomit 6 miles and still finish. Still hard to drink my electrolytes so water, water, more water and flat Pepsi when I could stomach it. Spoke briefly to a guy who asked what lap I was on. I said my third. He was on his as well. I told him I was just looking for the damned turn around. He said he was as well. He looked strong and I told him so and wished him well.

There was a group of us that kinda stayed together. We were running and walking around the same pace. We didn’t talk to each other but it was good to know I wasn’t alone out there hurting. I could tell my pace slowed. I didn’t have a damn watch to tell but I knew I couldn’t keep up my pace from before so I ran from cone to cone. Walked the next set of cones. Repeat. When the turnaround came, I knew if I got to a 5k I’d be fine. And I sort of was ok until mile 24.

Seriously those last two miles were insanely hard. I strained to hear the roar of the crowd downtown which sounded a lot quieter. Even the loud band that played continuously for hours seemed to have relocated and moved closer to the finish. I needed something to get me by. I saw kind people on the street giving encouragement, “You’re so close!” “Don’t walk, run!” “You’re going to be an Ironman!” “Go, go, go!” That’s when I looked over and saw a medic on her phone. She wasn’t with anyone – just keeping herself busy. Where the F was she all day? Too late now to stop. Mile 25. Was I now going uphill? How long was this corridor? The band sounded like it was closer now and I could hear a guy on a loudspeaker now. “…..(inaudible name) ... You Are An IRONMAN!”

My thought process went something like this that last 1.2 miles: drink water. Dump all the food you have stuffed in your tri top bra. Fix your hair. Make it look like you didn’t just suffer for god knows however long you’ve been out here. And run like hell when you near the finish chute. I walked a good portion of that last mile just willing my brain to adjust to the new game plan. I inadvertently dropped my water, my lifeline. Damnit! I didn’t want to run with trash in my hand so I jumped a curb and threw it into a trash can and hopped down back onto the course. Ok. Jacket is around my waist and I don’t want it. I’m hot. I can’t toss it. Damnit – just hold it. I see a lady on my right who says, “You’ve got this! It’s just around the corner!” and that’s when I started to run. I mean, run like I meant it. I saw the red carpet and the lights. It was a party scene and I was ready to …… sit the fuck down. But first, that finish line. That glorious finish line. I looked up – did that time say 15 hours and something? I thought I was closer to 16 by my walking pace those last few miles. That gave me a bit of a pep in my step. I put my hand over my mouth – I started to tear up and then I heard, “That’s my sister!” and saw my brother Brian, Gloria, Kaia and my son Kyler with his hand stretched out to high five me. It was a brief second but that moment of seeing their faces and getting that final power boost from my son got me across that finish line.

I heard before I even crossed the finish, “Bethany Kilgore from McKinney, Texas – You are an Ironman!” and then I saw the ramp. A ramp! I had to go up and down that thing and not fall flat on my ass. I was depleted of food, water, electrolytes, and was high on adrenaline so by the time I crossed I walked gingerly across the threshold where some kind man grabbed my arm and guided me through the finisher chute. Total run time: 6:13:01. Total time at finish: 15:02:31.

Through the chute, my kind guide asked me, “Do you want water? Gatorade?” I said no. He said, “I bet you’ll never want another Gatorade for a few months.” I smiled. Then he told me I was going to receive my medal. Medal placed around my head; a few congrats. Ok. More walking. Then he said someone had to get my timing chip. Great. Next he asked if I wanted food. NOOOOO. No food. Ok, so he walked me to get my finisher shirt. I stood in a daze as someone handed me my finisher shirt. I looked around and noticed the line to get my finisher photo. Ugh. I didn’t have the energy to wait. Everyone looked so full of life. I wanted to sit. A nice lady helped me with my things, she fixed my visor which I always wear so low and held all of my sweaty things as I gave a few pained smiles. I saw the rendezvous spot to meet my family. I heard my name and got some hugs. I was super thankful to be done but fell like crap. I thought fresh clothes and sitting would make me feel better. After getting my clothes and changing (which took eternity with tons of foot cramps), I stood up and met my family on a bench. I couldn’t talk without fear of getting sick. I was still dizzy so I wanted to lay down. As soon as I tried to lay down I started dry heaving. Nothing would come but saliva. I knew I was in a bad way so my friend Gloria sought a medic while my brother and kids waited for Joe to finish. I got into a wheel chair and was admitted. It looked like a war zone. People messed up far worse than me. People with EKGs on their chest. Others getting massages from their cramped legs. The guy next to me screaming from his leg cramp getting worked out. I had a nurse come around asking if I was allergic to anything – “just penicillin” I said. She thought it was odd that the three people in bed next to each other were all allergic to penicillin. A nice doctor came over and said I was going to get an IV. A nurse came over and stuck my left arm. Nothing. Stuck my right arm and moved the needle around. Nothing. Had to call over someone else to get to my vein and finally got it in on top of my right hand. I was hot and didn’t want a blanket. I was in my sports bra and shorts that I had changed into along with my Oofos. It took a while to get the fluids in even halfway through and by then I started to get cold. I got an awesome space blanket and neck massage. I strained to hear my husband’s name called but it was busy and loud in the tent. I asked if the medic tent was busy now and the nurse said no, but that it was busy earlier – not enough beds to triage people to get in and get assistance. I got word that Joe crossed and was ok. I was upset that I couldn’t see him cross the finish line but was thankful I felt better at that point. I lulled off to sleep.

The kind doctor that attended to me let me know the medical tent was closing. My fluids weren’t all the way done but I was feeling better. I was thankful to see my family and Gloria waiting outside of the tent. I felt a LOT better. I was eager to shower and go home and sleep. I said my thanks and goodbyes to Gloria and we got a cab. Back at the resort, I told my brother to see if he could get something salty like fries and chips from the late night snack bar. He came back with fries and nachos. I couldn’t eat much but what I did tasted like food for the gods. Brian let Joe and I go to rest; I miraculously had enough energy to take a shower and rinse out all of our bike bottles before laying my head on the pillow. I looked over at the time. 3:25a. Exactly 23 hours of activity that day.

Was it worth it? Yes. It tested everything I had. I learned that Joe crossed about an hour after me with little to no training. And he didn’t need a medical tent. But he ran his race; I ran mine. We did what we each had to do and both became Ironmen that day. It’s been 5 days; I’m hard pressed to want to do this again whereas Joe is eager to go back next year. I’ll happily be his Sherpa!

What I’ve learned throughout this experience is that while this is a challenge of three sports for one person to complete, it’s a necessity to have a village of people that help you get to that finish line.

For everyone that has helped me with any of my training swim, bikes or runs

For the friends that have put up with my insane training schedule and understood that my absence from any social life was temporary (and forgave me when I unintentionally fell asleep at social gatherings when I did go out)

For my daughter who gave me grace when I missed more than half of her soccer games this fall and passed out around 7:30p on the couch during cuddle time

For my son who was patient in getting the adequate drive time in to help him earn his drivers license

Collectively for my kids who allowed their parents to do a race smack dab in the middle of our family vacation

For my coaches who put up with my incessant questions

For my brother’s family for their understanding while they were in the midst of moving into a new home and for my nephew for allowing me to take his dad away on his birthday. I needed my brother’s help post-race and to have fun with the kids while their parents were out doing a silly race

For my dear friend of 20 years Gloria who trekked across the Yucatan Peninsula and took a ferry to Cozumel to cheer me on for 15+ hours

And for my husband who made all the dinners, made all of the post-long weekend workout meals, and kept my insanity in check….

I thank you all.

(Above: my new favorite Christmas ornament next to some of my favorite ornaments: my kids, an old Santa - my grandfather’s who died of cancer, my best friend Lisa and I, and a Mexican sombrero ornament from 1997)

Above: The Kilgore’s enjoying a relaxing day visiting San Gervasio ruins on Cozumel island.... post-race

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mstoursntravels · 6 years ago

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2traveldads-blog · 6 years ago

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We will never not appreciate how colorful Mexico is. From our trips around Baja California Sur to road trippin’ on the Yucatan, there are always new places to enjoy. The colorful towns of the Yucatan are exceptionally cool and fun, and each is so different! OMG, road trip theme: colorful towns and street art. Okay, here you go!

Your complete Yucatan road trip itinerary (with bonus plans)

Starting in Cancun, since that’s where you fly into usually, grab your rental car and plan your stops. The plan I’ve made here is good for a four to six day road trip focusing on towns and relaxation, but it could easily be stretched out to ten days if you wanted. And know that this plan doesn’t include every cenote or Mayan ruins site, but you can add those in too.

First stop: Puerto Morelos

South of Cancun about forty minutes, this colorful little town is at the start of the Ruta de Cenotes: the Cenotes Road. While it isn’t a resort town, per se, it’s very much centered around tourism and the beach. The town square is just off the beach and it’s surrounded by small hotels and open air restaurants. There is some beautiful street art, plenty of colorful buildings, and a small malecon for strolling

This town is great for a day trip if you’re in the mood to relax and people watch, or if you are looking for a quiet town to escape to for a few days. There are tourists here, but not many. Puerto Morelos feels like the town locals probably visit when they’re having their own beach days…

Note: near the beach the prices of EVERYTHING are crazy. It’s not that I’m an American that wants to haggle or something, but I was looking for an inexpensive beach towel and the only options were very cheap small towels for $27 or $36 USD. And there was no compromise. The prices and mood here are very different from more touristy areas.

Ideas for activities around Puerto Morelos include boat tours to get out on the water, chillin’ on the beach, driving the Ruta de Cenotes (love Cenotes Siete Bocas!), or using this as a home base for visits to Cancun or Playa del Carmen.

Chillin’ in Playa del Carmen

Playa del Carmen has been one of my favorite spots in Mexico for a few years. Yes, it’s totally built up now and there are tourists and vacationers EVERYWHERE, but it’s still awesome. The town itself is colorful and fun with the feel of a small city. The beach is easily accessible from nearly everywhere, the residents are welcoming, and the food is stellar. Can you go wrong mixing Mexican food and super fresh seafood? No.

Staying at Club Yebo Hotel – Playa del Carmen

An ideal spot for overnighting in Playa del Carmen, the Club Yebo Hotel was super cool. Nestled into one of the more quiet streets just off the main strip in Playa del Carmen, it was exactly what I’d hoped. The courtyard was kind of a jungle with huge trees and elevated walkways, the pool area was beautiful and calm, and my room was simple with plenty of space and amenities.

At night, despite being right between the beach and the party scene of Playa del Carmen, it was very quiet. In the morning, I was able to grab coffee and breakfast just outside the hotel at the little cafe. It was kind of perfect.

Tip: follow Club Yebo Hotel on Instagram to get ideas for visiting Playa del Carmen, to get inspiration to plan a trip, or to watch for deals that they share through social media.

Playa del Carmen at night

Who knew Playa del Carmen was such a crazy place? Until this last trip I’d only visited Playa in the daytime and now I know where Mexico goes to party. There were more people out in Playa after dark than I’ve seen anywhere else, including the Castro of San Francisco. Shoulder to shoulder people in some spots. There were countless restaurants with outdoor seating, lots of bars, there were break dancers, street performers and so much more. The spectacle of Playa del Carmen at night is something to experience. And street tacos too.

Akumal: colorful nature

This is one of my favorite places in Mexico. I’ve been here before (check out my article) and it was incredible. This most recent visit was just as incredible as before.

The town site of Akumal is built around the beach, as this is the prime destination on the Yucatan for spotting and swimming with sea turtles. Little pockets of restaurants and small hotels are all within a two minute walk to the playa. If you’re into larger resorts, there are a few options here in Akumal, but even those are mellow in comparison to what you’ll find in Cancun.

When it comes to experiencing wildlife in Akumal, that’s where I start to ramble. On this last trip, I saw seven sea turtles swimming, eating sea grass on the floor, and resting. One even swam over to investigate me! I’ve seen stingrays, loads of tropical fish, and just enjoyed laying in the sand. It’s perfect.

Note: there are times that Turtle Cove at Akumal is closed due to too many tourists or a lot of turtles laying in the area. Getting to swim with the turtles isn’t a guarantee, but if you do, you need to exercise caution and respect.

Also in Akumal is Cenote Yal Ku. At the end of the beach road you’ll find a small parking area and an attendant in a palapa style structure. You pay your entry fee ($15 USD as of Feb 2017) and make your way to the most unique cenote. Hugely open and full of mangroves, Cenote Yal Ku is unlike any other I’ve visited. The fish population was off the charts and the direct connection to the Caribbean made for an interesting flow of water as I snorkeled. So fun and colorful!

Valladolid: colorful Mexico

This is my new favorite city in Mexico. Valladolid was so colorful and full of amazing sights! I hate to play to the millennial vibe, but it’s seriously the most Instagramable place I’ve ever visited. Between the towering church in El Centro to the colorful buildings lining the narrow streets, to the plethora of old VW beetles, it’s a photographer’s dream.

Valladolid still feels rather undiscovered when you consider the larger Yucatan towns like Cancun or Playa. Unlike the main tourist areas, you do actually need to speak Spanish in Valladolid. Primarily, the town is a residential one and also home to the local Universidad de Valladolid. If I wanted to stay someplace totally chill and beautiful that the whole family would enjoy, Valladolid would be it. Yes, not close to any beaches, but there’s a cenote right in the middle of town, so…

Yes! There is an enormous cenote directly in downtown Valladolid. Cenote Xin Ha is one of the largest cenotes on the Yucatan and is, hands down, one of the coolest natural wonders I’ve ever seen. There’s a fee for entry of course, but find me a cenote that doesn’t cost something. Once you’re scaling the steps down into the grand cavern, you have the option of doing the full loop or just jumping in off any given cliff. I did the loop and checked out the bat caves and stalactites, but eventually found a small cliff to jump off of that didn’t make me terrified. After relaxing for a bit, I hiked back out and continued to explore the town. Lovely time in Valladolid!

Tip: the city is very walkable and safe, but you need to be sure you’re parking legally, as Valladolid doesn’t have clearly marked parking areas/signs. I had to chat with the police upon returning to my car, and they were awesome and hilarious about my parking job, but it could’ve gone a different path.

Bonus city: Merida on the Western Yucatan

If you have time, spend a day or two in Merida. We haven’t visited yet, but everybody says it’s beautiful and its Spanish colonial heritage makes for some interesting historic sites. This is also where you can stay if you plan on visiting Rio Lagartos or Los Colorados for flamingo viewing. Just an idea…

And think of all the colorful VWs you can spot on your drive across the Yucatan…

Next colorful Yucatan stop: Isla Holbox

I returned my car to Alamo Rent a Car at the Cancun airport and headed to the international arrivals terminal to meet a friend. We found our driver with Transfer Holbox and buckled up. This was a mini road trip itself.

A couple of hours in the shuttle and a few Coronas later we made it to Chiquila, a tiny town on the water where we would be catching the ferry to Isla Holbox. It was a beautiful Caribbean night so we sat on the upper deck and enjoyed the ride while a local busted out his amp and microphone and sang for tips. It was all too fun to be true, but it was.

Note: there are different boats that do the ferry service, and depending on the model of boat and the roughness of the waters, sitting outside may not be an option due to the huge waves/spray.

Exploring Isla Holbox

This cool little island is off the northern tip of the Yucatan and it’s still fairly chill for being a Caribbean destination. It’s a strange place, I’ll be honest. And FYI, it’s said “Hole-bosh.”

You arrive by boat and that in itself is kind of an adventure. Once you’re on the island, the only transportation is via golf cart taxis or bikes that you rent. Actually, you could also rent your own golf cart if you really wanted. There isn’t pavement except for some areas of the town with paved sidewalks.

The town of Holbox is very similar to other Mexican towns in that it’s pretty colorful and is 60% restaurants. What makes it different (in addition to the golf carts) is that it’s full of street art and hammocks. Yeah, both in the water and in the town you can use or rent hammocks to chill out randomly.

We ate at several different restaurants in town, but my favorite was El Champlin. This small restaurant in the heart of downtown, just off the main square, has no menu. Each day the chef sees what’s fresh and available and makes four dishes. When we went, the options were stewed shrimps, bone-in tenderloin, lobster and cream sauce, and grouper (fish) with poblano peppers. I had the grouper and it was remarkable. Delicious with a really subtle heat.

Overall, the food of Isla Holbox really seemed to be Mexican inspired but big-city trendy. It was not what I was expecting.

Isla Holbox has plenty of hotels to choose from (we stayed at Villa Flamingos) and pricing is still fairly inexpensive for being the Caribbean. It seemed that most of the visitors to the island were either from Canada or Europe. There weren’t a ton of Americans in town.

Tip: if you can be on Isla Holbox for Carnival, do it! It’s not like Carnival in Venice or Mardi Gras in Mobile, but it’s fun and the whole town is in on the party.

Gah, there is so much more that we could share about visiting the colorful towns of the Yucatan, but this is good for now. Be sure to check out our other articles about Quintana Roo, including:

Playa del Carmen

Swimming with Sea Turtles in Akumal

The Coba Ruins

Travel for Yoga: Isla Holbox Yoga Retreat

Cenotes of the Yucatan / Cenotes Dos Ojos (my fav)

…and so much more!!!

And you should for sure pin this for planning your own colorful towns of the Yucatan road trip. It’ll be so much fun!!!

Yucatan Peninsula road trip: colorful towns of the Yucatan We will never not appreciate how colorful Mexico is. From our trips around Baja California Sur…

#Akumal #Cancun #Club Yebo Hotel #Isla Holbox #Playa Del Carmen #Puerto Morelos #road trip #Scenic Route #Valladolid #Yucatan

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ceciliabishop-blog · 5 years ago

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Australia & New Zealand South Seas Holidays

So that your cruise becomes a unique experience. Experience Downunder with its unique nature and visit the fascinating North and South Island of New Zealand. Nowhere else are high mountains and sea so close together. For the first time, the Saxon medium-sized tour operator Eberhardt TRAVEL has now taken the lead in the comparison of the 8 best German specialist tour operators of study and city trips. STA Travel is in things Around the World tickets an absolute expert.

Write down what you would like to do, especially in Australia. Do you want to do the standard route Sydney - Cairns in 3 weeks? Entry to Dubai, Thailand, French Polynesia, Chile, Argentina, Brazil and Peru is visa free for Germans, Austrians and Swiss. Arrival in Singapore in the morning (local time) and onward flight to Auckland (non-stop, flight duration about 10 hours), landing shortly before midnight. You will be greeted by your Studiosus tour guide and together we will drive to our centrally located hotel. Do you already know in which year or at which date you want to travel? Avoid areas affected by bush fires or particularly endangered areas and areas with high air pollution and keep an eye on the traffic situation (e.g. over ). Bush and forest fires continue to be a threat in some areas of Australia, particularly in the eastern part of Victoria and the coastal hinterland of New South Wales and in the mountainous regions of both states. In South Australia, Kangaroo Island, among others, continues to be affected. In the district of the capital Canberra "Australian Capital Territory" (ACT), an emergency plan was drawn up on 31. Read more about campervan hire New Zealand here. Then skip the city today and take a public bus or a taxi to the tropical Colo-I-Suva Forest Park! Here you can hike through the jungle to waterfalls. Let's go to explore the main island Viti Levu! In the Sigatoka Sand Dunes National Park we explore the ancient dunes, 5 km long and partly 50 m high, from which bones and ceramics from the past appear again and again. Above the market of Sigatoka there is the smell of fresh South Sea fruits like papaya, mango and guava.

Stopover Dubai & Camper Australia

But Australia is not only a Mecca if you are a sports and outdoor enthusiast, the country is also culturally diverse and worth seeing. Travel and security advice is based on the information available at the time and considered trustworthy by the Federal Foreign Office.

#tour australia new zealand south sea

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mavboli · 5 years ago

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Find cheap car hire in New Zealand & amp; Book

About 50 kilometers north of Auckland, the mountainous Coromandel Peninsula beckons with pristine rainforests, rock caves and hot springs. On the drive from Auckland to the south, travelers can reach Lake Taupo, the largest lake on the two islands, and the volcanic Tongariro National Park, which is also a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Green, hilly landscapes and imposing colonial-style villas shape the image of New Zealand's second largest metropolis, Wellington. When visiting the botanical garden or one of the numerous museums, vacationers should definitely take the cable car, the Wellington tram, up the steep streets. You can book a rental car on site and explore New Zealand's beautiful natural sites.

The quality of life in the city is great. After Sydney and Auckland, it is the third most liveable city in the southern hemisphere. Auckland is particularly attractive due to its location on several volcanic hills. Here, however, rental car drivers can also get into the traffic jam during rush hour - this is not the case in most other cities and especially when driving overland.

It is best to start the hike at 6 a.m. in order to be back safely before dawn. At the top are the famous emerald green lakes and a very worthwhile view. The Marlborough Sounds area is around 150 kilometers as the crow flies from Wellington. Transfer and park your rental vehicle in New Zealand by ferry to Picton. If you would like to deactivate cookies on this website, please go to "Manage Cookies", where you can get more information and specify your preferences. Find cheap car hire in New Zealand with KAYAK and rent a car. KAYAK searches hundreds of travel sites to help you book the best deals in New Zealand.

Some car rental companies do not allow translation from one island to another, including Interrent, Europcar and Hertz.

Also the one about 360 kilometers away You can reach Dunedin with your rental car in New Zealand without any problems.

You can withdraw your consent at any time by using the unsubscribe link that is included in every email.

A navigation device can't help you get used to this form of traffic, but it can help you get your bearings.

By continuing to use our site, you agree to this. You can find details and options for objection in our data protection information. On boat tours you have the opportunity to watch dolphins, and in the city the zoo and SkyTower are waiting for your visit. At 328 meters, the SkyTower is the tallest tower in the southern hemisphere. When I picked up the rental car at the airport, Hertz informed me that I would only get the new rental car on the other side of the ferry in Wellington the next day. I did not get a refund, although we had to take a taxi to the hotel and the other day to the rental car station in town. This is the only way to really get an impression of the incredible breadth and beauty of the landscape. You can easily explore the North and South Island by car and take a break in the 14 national parks of the Pacific Island as you wish.

At these rental stations others take over their rental car for New Zealand

Wellington is picturesquely situated in a natural harbor and green hills, between which colonial villas were built. After finding a rental car in New Zealand, campervan hire New Zealand from NZM Rentals you can quickly get to Te Papa Tongarewa, the National Museum of New Zealand. The name of the museum was named in the native language of the country.

#New Zealand car hire

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travelonlinetips-blog · 5 years ago

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New Post has been published on https://travelonlinetips.com/baku-city-guide-where-to-eat-drink-shop-and-stay-for-the-europa-league-final-in-azerbaijan/

Baku city guide: Where to eat, drink, shop and stay for the Europa League final in Azerbaijan

On the shores of the Caspian Sea, the old Soviet Union meets Dubai. Right now Arsenal and Chelsea fans are racing to find flights to the Bolshevik-to-bling capital of Azerbaijan. The London football teams will meet in the Europa League final in the city’s Olympic Stadium on Wednesday 29 May.

Its location is extreme: Baku is the easternmost city in the Caucasus, and the lowest-lying capital in the world – nearly 100 feet below ocean level (the Caspian Sea, like the Dead Sea, is below sea level as measured in the rest of the world). And it is a deeply intriguing location, with a fascinating Old City and dramatic new architecture.

Baku also has a range of unusual natural and man-made attractions on the outskirts.

We’ll tell you what’s true. You can form your own view.

From 15p €0.18 $0.18 USD 0.27 a day, more exclusives, analysis and extras.

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What to do

Explore the Old City

At the heart of Baku, stout walls rise to protect the Old City. As you walk through the Double Gate from the more modern city centre, you immediately sense that this is way beyond Europe – indeed, Baku is further east than Baghdad. The caravanserais and merchants’ mansions have been repurposed as restaurants, hotels and galleries.

But the sense of medieval might is preserved in the shape of the Maiden Tower, a 12th-century 100-foot stone guardian for the city. The outstanding cultural treasure is the Palace of the Shirvanshahs – a sandstone complex of prayer and indulgence.

Take a hike

Government House aka Dom Soviet (Simon Calder)

Leaving the Old City from the Double Gate, head downhill to Fountains Square – actually an extended polygon that serves as Baku’s busy commercial and social hub. A series of fountains is augmented by public sculpture, in particular the life-size bronze of a young woman chatting on a mobile phone – one small indication of how liberal is this nominally Islamic nation. (Another is the open-air consumption of alcohol during Ramadan.)

Exit from the northeast corner, go one block east and cut diagonally across Molokan Garden – one of dozens of parks – to Uzeyir Hajibayov Street. Call in at the shiny new tourist office, four blocks along, if you want ideas on exploring Azerbaijan more widely, or just continue another block to the monumental Government House – better known back in the USSR as the Dom Soviet.

1966 and all that

The “Russian linesman” who awarded England their controversial third goal in the 1966 World Cup final against West Germany was, in fact, Azerbaijani. Tofiq Bahramov has had the Lenin Stadium renamed after him. It is close to the sweeping curves of the Heydar Aliyev Cultural Center – named, like the airport, after the former president. (His son is now in control.) But the Europa League final is taking place further northeast at the vast Olympic Stadium.

Wall decorations at the Fire Temple (Simon Calder)

Fire stations

Take bus 184, passing dozens of nodding wells in the Suraxani oil fields, to the end of the route. You arrive almost at the Fire Temple, with an eternal flame in the hearth at the centre. The courtyard was created by rich Indian merchants on the site of a Zoroastrian place of worship. If it is lunchtime, ignore the tourist restaurants in the complex in favour of the Nafis Dad, just along the road overlooking a shady square.

About 15 minutes away by taxi (pay no more than 10 manats/£5) is a 20th-century curiosity, Yanar Dag – where natural gas burns constantly. Amusingly, it was ignited in 1950 when a careless shepherd dropped a cigarette that was still alight. So popular is it that, for 2019, it has been turned into a fully fledged tourist attraction complete with viewing area.

Guided Azerbaijan offers a range of bespoke tours with English-speaking guides that can cover all these sights as well as the “mud volcanoes” and petroglyphs south of the city. I paid $140 for a day’s tour.

Where to stay

Thanks to Azerbaijan’s oil wealth, there are plenty of shiny new upscale hotels. But the ideal location is within the walls of the OId City – besides characterful lodgings, you will also find some tranquillity from the always-buzzing traffic outside.

The pick is the Shah Palace, a boutique hotel arranged around a peaceful courtyard. Rates rarely exceed 200 manats (£93) for a double without breakfast; pay with cash to avoid a swingeing credit-card surcharge.

Baku will host the Europa League final (Getty)

The Museum Inn is smaller and less indulgent, but also excellent value at 150 manats (£70) or less for a double room.

Outside the Old City, the Baku Palace Hotel, north of Fountains Square on Islam Safarli Street, is good value. Call +994 12 497 62 71 for the best deal – typically 120 manats (£56) double.

Budget accommodation is rarer, but – as with the World Cup in Russia in 2018 – many Baku citizens are likely to rent out rooms at reasonably modest rates to football fans.

Where to eat

Start the day at the Holiday Inn – really. The breakfast buffet for 21 manats (£10) at the 18th-floor restaurant is as spectacular as the views over the Caspian Sea and the city. You reach it on a glass-sided lift. And you can feast on well-prepared Middle Eastern and western dishes.

For lunch, make it the Qaynana Restaurant, just to the right of the Double Gate into the Old City. Order a qutab or two – the pancake turnovers filled with meat or vegetables, and a fresh and spicy salad.

For dinner on a summer’s evening, the place to be is the Dalida Restaurant, the open-air terrace on the third floor of the complex on the northeast corner of Fountains Square (it’s above McDonald’s). Dine on pilaff – lamb and rice dressed with spices, vegetables and fruits, all yours for 14 manats (£6).

Where to drink

The Dalida is also a good call for a sundowner, with Xirdalan beer (4.50 manats/£2) the drink of choice.

The Old School Cafe on Topcubasov Street is full of the Azeri approximation to hipsters, with appealing snacks and good coffee as well as a full range of exotic booze.

Beware of bars aimed at westerners. The Foreign Office warns: “Muggings do occur from time to time after dark in the centre of town around the western bars and clubs.”

Where to shop

To be amazed by the wealth of some in this oil city, head for Port Baku – a glittering new collection of designer boutiques with all the familiar upmarket brands. Next door the Emporium Mall does much the same, but also includes Bentley and Ferrari showrooms

Palace of the Shirvanshahs (Simon Calder)

Architectural highlights

Even on the drive in from the airport, look out on the right for what looks like a stack of Rubik’s Cubes, which is the almost-completed tax office, and shortly afterwards a glass and steel building in the shape of a teardrop – the water utility HQ.

But the most dramatic structures are the Flame Towers, a trio of luminescent turquoise towers that sparkle in daylight and are transformed after dark by a dazzle of lighting. Beneath them, the finishing touches are being made to the Caspian Waterfront building, resembling a blossoming flower, was supposedly inspired by the Sydney Opera House.

The flame towers are a distinctive feature (Getty Images/iStockphoto)

Nuts and bolts

Will I need a visa?

Yes, but fortunately it is far easier and cheaper to obtain now than it has been for a century. Apply on the Asan Visa website, and pay $21 for normal processing (officially three working days, but in practice 24 hours) or $50 for the three-hour express visa. The Foreign Office says: “If you’re applying for an e-visa to come to Azerbaijan for the Europa League final on 29 May 2019, please note in the “Purpose of visit” of your e-visa application you should select ‘Europa League Final’.” But it probably doesn’t matter if you just put “tourism”.

What currency do I need?

The manat, confusingly sometimes represented as AZN in quoted prices. The rate is about £1 = 2.15 manats. Change a few on arrival at the airport (the rate will be poor) and then more at one of the many bureaux de change in town.

Cards are widely accepted, though sometimes a steep surcharge is added.

What language do they speak?

Azeri, which is closely related to Turkish. The most common foreign language among older folk is Russian, and among younger people English.

Should I tip?

In fancier restaurants it is normal to leave a few manats, but hardly anyone tips as much as 10 per cent. If you never tip, no-one will particularly mind.

What’s the time difference?

GMT +4.

What’s the average flight time from the UK?

Baku is as far from the Emirates Stadium and Stamford Bridge as it is possible to be and still be within the confines of “Europe”: exactly the same latitude as Madrid, but further east than Baghdad, and 2,469 miles from London.

At 10.05pm on Tuesdays, Thursdays and Saturdays, Azerbaijan Airlines flies a Boeing 787 Dreamliner from Heathrow to Baku, taking five hours and 30 minutes, and touching down at 6.35am the next day. The standard fare is around £500 return, but all flights in Europa League final week are full.

I travelled on Wizz Air from Luton via Budapest for £101 one-way in total.

Public transport

From the airport, the cheapest option is to get the Airport Express bus, which leaves every half hour (less frequently between 7pm and 6am) for a fare of 1.50 manats/70p (buy a ticket using cash from the machines on either side of the exit from arrivals).

The Metro underground railway is limited, but – for a largely Soviet system – efficient and reliable. The most useful stations are Icarishahar, on the southwest edge of the Old City, and the stop called 28 May – which is actually at Baku railway station.

To use the system, spend 5 manats (£2) on a BakyCard from one of the machines. This entitles you to four rides, and can be topped up as you need.

Best view

Baku’s oldest Shia mosque, Bibi Heybet, survived at its clifftop location south of the city centre from the 13th century to the 20th – when it was demolished to make room for a new highway winding south from the city. A replacement was completed in 1998.

You are free to wander in and around the mosque (shoes off, wraps provided for some to cover their heads and arms) to appreciate the impressive dome. Afterwards, take in the superb view of the Caspian shore from the mirador.

Insider tip

While Azerbaijan is not on the low-cost airline network from the UK, neighbouring Georgia is. To return, I took the overnight train to Tbilisi (£25 for a berth in “Soft” class), a bus across to Kutaisi (£5), from where a Wizz Air flight to Luton cost £26.

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voodoorhythmrecords · 5 years ago

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Tour Report 2019-South East Asia Tour The Monsters

This is a tour where Greta would Kill us Immediately, 7 flights, around 40'000km in 2.5 weeks, a city with about 7'000'000 mopeds, 26 of them battery operated at most ... I have only seen a few bikes driven by women over 100 years old (at least that).

I am the writer, Reverend Beat-Man, singer and guitarist of THE MONSTERS we have been touring with the New Zealanders THE CAVEMEN trough Vietnam, Taiwan and Japan

We already did the preliminary work a few years before this tour, we is: Pete Menchetti from Slovenly Records (Sticker Guy) from Reno (USA) ... he calls his series WE'RE LOUD FEST and Swan Lee our drummer both had exchanged about one Trillion mails, made balance sheets, culture suport Letters etc ... Money Zero but Fun= Factor +180 we were lucky to be supported a little bit by Pro Helvetia and the SUISA Fondation with a deficit guarantee (in Switzerland this is possible... thanks to my lovely country)

On Monday the Nov 19 we flew 12 hours to Vietnam and went in a taxi to Saigon (Ho-Chi-Minh City), in town there are over 7 million (they told me i didn’t count) motor scooters and they drive as it looks like all at the same time like maniacs mostly 2 but also 5 people on it, a huge chaos, everyone drives according to him just so fits first on one lane and then if enough space on the opposite lane as well no rules at all, we thought.. In the beginning it looks ultra chaotic, but i tell you if you make your own chaos music you know the deal, that there is a system in every chaos... so as well on Vietnam's streets... the trick: All vehicles are slow and they never stop, that means the traffic is always running and there is never a jam... unless someone is lying dead on the street... crossing the road as a pedestrian is a big challenge the trick is to never stop while walking Close your eyes and walk slowly in a straight line, then the mopeds will drive around you... if you make a stop or jerky movements you will be knocked over and die on the spot, like in a game, it's very simple

We're Loud Fest

———————

the welcome party was in the club Indika, in the front room a marriage orchestra playing the same shit music like all over the globe, just in vietnamese, in the back room DJ's Pete and Daddy O from Tokyo and as surprise act WASTED PIDO from Venice the One Man Band from the great DESTROY ALL GONDOLAS (Death Metal Surf).

One day later we had a party on an old Vietnamese steamer, the whole vehicle was finely carved out of rosewood and almost collapsed while dancing too wildly, I was allowed to start as REVEREND BEAT-MAN and KING KHAN & BBQ SHOW closed the evening, I can’t say anything about my show because I played it myself but it was fun, my striptease interlude and Tibetan vocal act were i guess a bit too much for them and king khan bbq show had taken over, the 2 were in a great mood and squeezed everything out of the kiddie PA System, the guitar was completely out of tune from the beginning to the end you could even see it as a concept and every line more stupid than the next one it was a great party.. i could hardly enjoy the concert because i stupidly switched to flirt mode and fell in love with all the women on the boat, after an unsuccessful tour we got drunk and at 2am we got into a strange taxi that took us to the hotel with 200 km/h in 3 seconds, the hotel was a family affair, the doors close after 8pm, the mother manager and wife for everything, i fell in love immediately, she had welcomed us, her children and husband and other family members of unknown origin all slept in the lobby under or on the table, temperature was estimated 10000 degrees and they all snuggled up comfortably in the thermo- feather blanket, we switched off the air conditioning for solidarity reason to the Family and Great off course and then got up in the morning in a sweat bath. For Breakfast you drink cold coffee with condensed milk or sit with diarrhoea on the Toilette.

We were lucky to be in Saigon in the un-touristic part (tourists quarter you recognises if it has Mc Donnalds/Starbucks sign… do not go there !! its shit 10 times as expensive, and full of Europeans and ‚i wanna see the amazing world‘ Americans) we walked around in the evening in our quarter and landed in the residential quarter, everyone had the doors far open, a honest driving between all inhabitants (not sexually) was to be observed.. i think loneliness and anti-social behaviour doesn't exist there, or hasn't arrived yet, because it's still something like a communism, an open one, whatever that means, i think when capitalism will take over, it will turn into a big fuck up shit shit hole like everywhere else,I think. Anyway but everybody in Saigon had some kind of business and sells something like living chickens (plucked alive they are then decapitated before the other living chickens ... shock therapy or something i guess) Rolex watches or fine sugar cane juice also skinning cute cuddly dogs is very popular, everything is on the ground and the ice-block supplier cleans his cocktail ice with stones from gutter, washed with stale water that dries quickly in the burning sun.. we have eaten and drunk everything, no matter how bizarre (dog (the one with the short legs, but no poodles) to the sky like rotten dicks stinking fruits and fermented fish) thanks to the demand we are still alive, and happier than ever.

On Saturday was the official festival start which ended one day later, many bands from the Asian region played, among others URGENT MATTER from Singapore I and all others Loved them very much, super cool old school hard core punk style, without stupid jumping around in ’shorts’. the songs are about 30 seconds and then one minute break because the singer tried to say something in English REIGN IN SLUMBER from Cambodia crusts Metal Punk super trash and the Ueber Hammer the same with DISTRICT 105 (Saigon) the headliner of the evening was CUT LON from Hanoi also known as Picachu Band, Hard Core, with official jumping and macho arm contortions and those Short Long shorts.. the shit ones, I think they are relatively famous and were not very friendly to us, that’s probably why, on the same evening THE CAVEMEN first with their country n western set THE VETERAN OUTLAW on the roof terrace, then as a complete band of Super Retards in the club, and like every evening and every time I saw them the kicked so much but that there was no butt anymore, Early Stooges paired with Glitter Punk and GG Allin, completely stupid and horny, everything is possible and everything they do especially drinking and taking drugs, THE TEWWZERS from Tokyo ex Teenegenerate, Power Pop high-flyers I have unfortunately missed because I was flirting, what one from Hawaii and her girlfriend from Brooklyn i think ajajaj... but all of them said they were great, THE CARRISON from Malaysia we met at dinner is Punk Rock'n'Roll and then TOTAL CONTROL from Australia from the asylum escaped Kraut Rocker and punks on LSD played with violins and flute but they also had problem with the 15 buck guitar amp for the estimated 100th time because there is no equipment in Vietnam, everything has to be ordered somehow PA amps etc.. and things like that are very hard to find and the equipment is not made for Rock'n'roll... rather for cuddle karaoke or Wedding Bands, at the end of the Night the: STOMPIN' RIFFRAFFS from Tokyo and they ruled the party, rock'n'roll covers with a Japanese attitude, piano and a theremin player who masturbated on stage in fishnet stockings. and i fell in love again, we (the Monsters) played as well, it was great, but i never get much out of it, because i'm playing... but i remember we played a piece in slow motion (sounds as stupid as it is)

We had to leave Saigon with a weeping eye and flew to Hoi An, Central Vietnam, We played again together with the Cavemen in a beach bar, because in Hoi An there are seldom or never concerts, they had problems to find a guitar and bass amp, the guitar amp was the size of a toaster, and with the bass amp they said it was the only one in Hoi An, we should pay attention and the Cavemen took it very seriously hahaha. in the middle of the show the guitarist came up with the great idea to do a somersault from the table down to the stage, in his imagination he would then land heroically on both feet and end up in the greatest guitar solo the world ever has seen, in reality he got stuck in a roof batten when he jumped off and a somersault turned into a New Zealand Meat bag that hit the floor and in between hit his backside of the head and the blood pulsating spurted out, the guitar head was broken off, luckily a doctor was there (someone who had read a book about a doctor) and everything turned out fine, after I fell in love with the hotel manager we went to Hanoi in the north of Vietnam at 5am, there it is much more communist, that means more bourgeois, you have to start haggling and so on.. we were too much overweight and they wanted a horrendous amount of money from us ... and we as honest and sincere Swiss were shocked and wanted to pay until Pete came and handed over 50Euros in his passport to the employee and everything was done with a friendly smile, Anyway I think I will never learn such a thing, I am too honest for me it is so embarrassing, I would like as well to be a little bit spoiled and and do bad things like all the others.

In Hanoi we then played in the first "real" club... with PA, a Soundmann Stagehands light and drum carpet etc

We played with EYEHATEGOD from New Orleans (USA) who I thought was OK but didn't knock my socks off, was a bit cool and serious and the whole thing and somehow wasn't dangerous at all, they were super cool guys except the singer, I think he's famous or something (back in switzerland i googld them and yes the are famous and i even have a record in my collection) anyway. my favourite band was TIMEKILLER from Saigon which is like Zeni Geva but on speed punk... so fucking cool and terrable loud they dont even have songs its just stupid and loud.. something… then I fell in love (one sided) with the singer's girlfriend and couldn't think anymore, the evening ended with a booze party and with noodle soupe and 2h sleep until the next flight to Taiwan.

Taipei is so Ultra Modern you won't believe it and you feel like a Swiss postcard mountain farmer, and the people Ultra Intelligent and also intellectually inspiring, ASA our Taiwan Manager, was beautiful as a picture and an organisational talent, photographer and main professional photo model, and multilingual of course. the Revolver Club was then also a regular club and as Taiwan is close to Japan, fans from Japan came to the show and we realised that we were back in civilisation. Records sign good backline, ATM's and Mexican food, unfortunately BB BOMB (taiwan girl punk band) had to cancel their concert because the singer got sick, but the whole band including the singer was present... maybe they were just too nervous you never know, but L-SCHEMA played, noise crusted punk of the local town with a drummer who hammers the beat with his lead foot in the fast lane, no sex and without any feeling, just go for it stupid punk as we love it, we finally arrived in the tour and gave our best concert so far I think, it was just dirty diarrhoea coming out of my mouth and it was a lot of fun, also for the Cavemen, whose guitarist played now on a Taiwanese cheap guitar played and gave everything and much more, the people were enthusiastic, I asked around about the situation with China and so, they said that they were all afraid of what zz going on in Hong Kong at the moment, because the origin of the whole problematic is in Taiwan, but they are mainly afraid of the Chinese spies who spy in Taiwan and no one can talk free from the liver.. everything is a little bit tense the whole thing I think and makes me worried, they are beautiful great people.

Then we were allowed to sleep for 3 hours and off to the plane to Nagasaki in Japan, where we were warmly welcomed by a punk grandmother (Kaori, our Japanese tour manager) and a Japanese 30's swing cowboy who turned out to be a fan of the Monsters and in real life is a real estate agent, and I was happy to be in my beloved Japan.

The Beta Club is small but nice, I forgot with which bands we played together, I was so tired from not sleeping and still had the Taiwanese tour manager in my head, but we went by bus in the early morning to Tokyo, my musicians told me this was the best trip of their lives, rice fields, remote villages, picture Beautiful landscapes women with strange Hats and Japanese folk music etc, I have unfortunately completely overslept the whole trip, do not even know if we flew again or not, a complet Black out.. sorry readers.

In Tokyo we were welcomed we gods and were allowed to play 2x in the Heavy Sick Club and our old friend Mr Dead at the cash desk gave us free drinks the whole night, the first evening my favourite Japanese One Man Band KATZGRAIS (Tokyo) played who is also a guitar builder and introduced his invention of the shovel guitar, after that he also played with his psychobilly band THE PSYCLOCKS , on the same evening we had PHANTOM TIKIRARZ a surf band with masks on the program after that i leaned towards the sake on ice and hot and MADPPETS entered the stage this is like Addams Family music but punk and sex, first i fell in love with their music then with the bass player and finally with the organ player and flirted it into the floor after the concert, on drums was Yuki Kono from the legendary THEEE BAT (Mika Bat †) but my complete favourite was HASIL NUTS from Tokyo with our tour manager Kaori on drums, the whole band can't play at all they are terrable great, Kaori (drums) is somehow hitting the drums without any concept, the guitarist is very concentrated and messes up everything and the other guitarist who would actually be the drummer is shrinking and just making pointless noises, the singer wears a net stocking full body dress and around his loins an apron made of nuts and sings 'king of the laod' the sound settles down, to a David Lynch movie but even weirder paired with The Legendary Stardust Cowboy, can you follow? that was awesome, we (the Monsters) played great and the people were almost freaking out, so did the Cavemen, the same evening THE FADAWAYS played they famous in Europe (soundflat records) and are super killer back from the Grave Garage Fuzz Punk.

We invested our last money in food and useless Japan junk, on the return flight we had again huge problems checking in the guitar cases into the plane (SWISS) they were 7cm too big and they made a huge drama, they charge 300euro more per guitar and we almost went crazy, already completely blank and so on, then we fell asleep in the plane completely exhausted.

My conclusion is that I had a huge after tour blues, not like normal, it was much bigger, and had to do with how the Vietnamese live together, talk and function, all doors open and treat everybody as equal, had reminded me of my time in the Squats i lived in and how much I miss it and how I hate to live in a society where people work against each other and not with each other.. i also know that what is here will also come there and i am so sorry for that i hope you learn to appreciate what you have and that not having more is more... yes less is more, but im a Dreamer and live in Utopia

anyway i love you Vietnam i love you Taiwan and i love you japan and i hope to come back soon and i am very proud that my stupid music works there too, thanks

Links

Guitara Kyo (Japan) https://youtu.be/LAFPnH5Blak

Urgent Matter (Singapur) https://youtu.be/xOp1qSr1A3w

Reign in Slumber (Cambodia) https://youtu.be/NEwjni4tXvY

District 105 (Saigon) https://youtu.be/npft6MHufqc

Timekiller (Saigon) https://youtu.be/bAAkwYqTN1o

Cut Lon (Hanoi) Picachu band https://youtu.be/lhOxr6v_Gvk

the Tewwzers (Tokyo) Teenegenerate, power pop https://youtu.be/zJbgHBpXXVo

the Carrison (malaysia) https://youtu.be/EXenEY8-Fu8

Total Control (Australia) https://youtu.be/RYrME08UPE0

the Cavemen (NZ) the Veteran Outlaw https://youtu.be/67dJ-E61AcY

Stompin' RiffRaffs (Tokyo) https://youtu.be/j4v2FjIxNLQ

BB Bomb (taiwan) https://youtu.be/SYXu7eSIjJg

L-Schema (Taiwan) https://youtu.be/bcNHGc7OAJM

Phantom tikirarz (japan) https://youtu.be/kBprrMnYuVk

Madppets (Japan) https://youtu.be/dvmlzZr-Kjk

The Psyclocks (Japan) https://youtu.be/znIWURke2zw

Katzgrais (Japan) https://youtu.be/QkSIShkPI8Y

Wasted Pido (italy) https://youtu.be/k5JuVA7RJn4

the Fadaways (Japan) https://youtu.be/yT62UfKbBlg

Hasil Nuts (Japan) https://youtu.be/-kOUHDJbcSo

Eyehategod ( usa) https://youtu.be/VepTkVmh-WA

King Khan & BBQ Show (CAN) https://youtu.be/LpA7I8SpkxQ

Reverend Beat-Man (CH) https://youtu.be/zUlCyhpovjE

the Monsters (CH) https://youtu.be/zs7CQBHyo3Y

19.11 - Flug CH - Saigon

22.11 - Saigon - Indochine Junk Boat Cruise

23+24.11 - Saigon - Arcan (Vietnam)

26.11 - Hoi An - Soul Beach/Hon Bien (vietnam)

28.11 - Hanoi - Hanoi Rock City (vietnam)

29.11 - Taipei - Revolver (thaiwan)

30.11 - Nagasaki - Beta (japan)

1+2.12 - Tokyo - Heavy Sick Club (japan)

4.12 - Flug Tokyo-CH

#the monsters #vietnam #thaiwan #Tokyo #nagasaki #tour report #band on tour

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