Ruth

And thankyou to everyone who has shared photos videos MP3s links and reports. I have a few rubbish photos which I'll upload tomorrow if I can.

Thankyou for your king words I love learning French and I loved it that I could see the improvement in my ability and confidence. Thank you for your report. I had no idea that you had come such a very long way. I'm glad you enjoyed it so much. We did wonder what might have happened to someone. The airport was - as Kath's just posted - about half way home! Hi Bab, I've only quoted you to remind me to laugh very loudly at sarky fokker!!!!!!

I'm going to sit and watch all these links. But I guess I'd better catch up on the @home downloads, too as I was away last Friday!

It was never meant to be live viewings of these performances. I think we've all spet hours on YouTube Great choices.

Oh, right. Well it was cancelled. Back in February; they sent e-mails cancelling both flights. And the links to ask for a refund or a transfer didn't work. And when I e-mailed them, they said not to send e-mails as they were busy! But then the details came up on my My Easyjet page. And I got an e-mail telling me to check in on line. So I did. And I got out to Nice so I (wrongly) assumed that I'd get back. But there was NO flight. And I think I was the only person to turn up at the airport. The girl at the desk looked stunned! I got to phone home from the desk too. And I didn't even think about getting weepy; does that mean I'm growing up?

Ha!

The ending is just that I went back from the airport to the flat, spent the evening writing the report, learnt why my alarm wouldn't work (am/pm - very important) and got the number 98 this morning safely back to get a flight to Liverpool. All very fine, if a bit lonely. The car park at the airport didn't even charge me for the extra night's parking! I should mention that it was extremely sunny at 8am when I went for the bus. The sea was as azure as blue can be.

Yes he does, I thought so too.

Have you read all my wittering Kath? Is it OK? Fair?

He looked regretful though. Not angry.

I write far too much, but it's an indulgence... I can relive it all. Actually, watching the videos, I've remembered other things - the coin he picked up off the stage and the Mexican waves we made round the stadium, just to mention two things. Lovely to see you. One day we'll get to have a conversation. Have you seen Sara's video: It starts with me talking to him....then YOU feature

Your photos are lovely. It was nice to meet you and Nice was fabulous wasn't it?

When it ended, and it was a good, long show, the security men pulled a tape across the front and walked with it, forcing us to retreat. Kath met up with Robi and the other fans she was with... We lingered around the concession stand and there was a fabulous full colour brochure of the tour. I was given an orange by a lady collecting for charity. That’s never happened before. Inevitably we had to go out and although it wasn’t warm, it certainly wasn’t unpleasant. We stood around to see if anyone was still inside but then made our way to the barriers for the ‘stage door.’ So there was going to be a M&G! I never dare expect it, so it was a relief at such a different venue to see that he would give even more of his time. I’d have guessed there were over 100 fans waiting but somehow the number dwindled. I’d say 60 – 70 stuck it out. It was a long wait but eventually Sara & co came out from their inside adventure. They said he was really tired, his eyes closing in between sentences. When he finally did come, he’d perked up: the fresh air probably did its bit. He worked along the line, very quickly signing until he got to me. I asked if I could give him another gold star (un étoile d’or) and then decided to speak English in case he thought, I was crazy! I reminded him that I’d given him one in Dublin and he had thrown it away. He said he remembered and had still got it. He said he couldn’t wear it because people would think he was a dick. I looked him straight in the eye and said ‘nobody would think that, you are a love’. I know I had ‘you are lovely’ in my head but I must have censored myself into saying a love. I asked Kath what I said because it was so dreamlike. Good quality conversation. Wow! He moved on to Kath and Robi who mentioned La Solitude so I called out to thank him for doing that. He looked back and said I was the only one from Britain to have travelled over. So Hotdlp & Sara huffed a bit and we agreed there were a few of us. He was really nice. Later on in the line he let someone take pictures with him, so we Brits didn’t hog his attention exclusively. The other fans were very good; there was absolutely no bad or silly behaviour. And, when he finished the line, we all clapped as he got in the car. And we clapped John who was very relaxed. Mellowed said Kath, just the right word. And is it my place to say what John and Mika were wearing? I have no idea how late it was by the time Mika’s car drew away. Late. There was talk of phoning for a taxi from the local hotel but I was up for walking down to the airport and getting one there. So we walked and walked and walked some more. We reckon we walked at least 7km and made it all the way back to our own beds. 3:15 by then I think. Bed. On Sunday I had had a chance to look at the lovely brochure - that’s not the word. What’s the word? that Kath bought and Mika signed. It has one page in French and without a dictionary, I couldn’t get it all. I wonder if s.o. will have translated that by now? But mostly I’m wishing and hoping and thinking and praying that YT will be full of fabulous videos from the night And it is... AND SPECIAL THANKS TO SARA WHO FILMED THE MEET AFTER!!!! I had no idea. And its confirmed what I remembered and what I hoped had been said.

.... and my prayers were answered; GGG and La Solitiude are both on YT thanks to the wonderful mari62 ....... and more ~x~

When I told Mika in Dublin that I enjoyed the new show he said in would be even better in the big stadia. I can see why he thought that and he’s right to be proud of the show. It was clearly well thought out, blending parts from the U.S.A. tour with the astronaught, Sir Ian and the space rocket, the black and white costumes and 40’s feel with the UK leg; the book, the day of the dead and his marionette. It was then expanded on a huge stage using all the height and depth of the venue. This was further enhanced by screens at each side including French sub-titles for Sir Ian’s introduction but with terrible lip synching. The stadium was huge; the seats seemed to go on forever, not rising steeply. But I expect and hope that everyone got a good clear view. And the music was wonderful. I hope someone got the set list, or memorised it because I didn’t. Randomly, I remember Ida singing with Mika in Over My Shoulder, Ida singing opera to Mika’s GGG, some wonderful hip movement from a very unstable looking piano, that scary inclined circle that they scattered with slippery bits and then danced on. Don’t they have H&S in mind when they plan these events? All the big girl, boys and lollipop fans walked through during LT which was excellent. The suitcase bit reminded me a lot of Cirque du Soleil’s Quidam. I cannot have my fingers more crossed than they are about the chances of someone sharing recordings of GGG. Or, even more, the part in the finale when they swapped Toy Boy to do Barbara’s La Solitude accompanied by the woman from the support band playing her piano accordion. It’s all well and good Sara going off backstage, but where are her super quality recordings when you need them? I don’t like rain, but he sang it beautifully; he worked the whole stage and the audience. The French crowd didn’t perhaps know every single word, but they seemed to be enjoying it hugely. And all the band were cheerful and smiley. At one point Mika introduced the TB puppet and put it on the neck of Jimmy's guitar. Jimmy went really close to Mika’s side when he wasn’t looking. Then, when he turned, he genuinely had the shock of his life! He wrestled Jimmy to the ground and poured a handful of the GK ‘snow’ over his face. In BB he did a play with a gun where the flag said Billy instead of BANG! At the end a huge Billy banner came up from the stage to the top. He also did an execution of the entire band, finishing with Martin. He announced “Je suis Mika, je suis mort” Actually he spoke a lot in French. He said hello Nice several times and thankyou for giving him the success he’s having. He said s.th. rude and apologised. He asked if anyone was in from (?somewhere?), because he used to go there for family holidays every year for ten years. He made the error about presenting his band, explained it and corrected himself, he introduced the puppet and made it say hello and bow. I was so chuffed with myself for keeping up. I like the talking as much as the singing and I’ve worked so hard on improving my French these last 12 months and its paid off. His costumes, and the band’s, were fabulous. The astronaut, the 40’s clothes, Ida’s dress for her opera singing which stripped back to a lovely short skirt, the florescent bits, Mika’s tail jackets and oh! a red and white banded tee with a long back, and a plain white T with black jeans and silver sparkly shoes. Nice. The drumming was lovely to see again; so much more a performance when they work together like that. And because Ida took a drum, Martin didn’t have to get to his guitar in a rush. There were two blasts of golden ‘fetti and huge balloons and coloured paper streamers. All in all it seems a thoroughly professional and well presented spectacle which I’m sure would have met Mika’s higher than high standards. Yet his personality, the fun of the occasion and the pleasure of performing was never overshadowed by the theatricals which are undoubtedly needed for a venue of this size.

I went back to find that our line had contracted and squashed way down between the barriers and I had quite a wriggle to get back to her! We were assuming that we’d another two hours or so before the doors opened, the entire outside area was totally full and people were still arriving, but actually, even before 7 o’clock, they put huge bins to take all cans and bottles off all the punters and then start checking bags. We got to the doors where they checked our tickets. I asked where to go next and was told any door, so I took off after Kath as she went up some steps and through another door. I was stopped because my ticket was for standing, (as was Kath’s) and luckily she heard my shout and we scarpered back downstairs. We’d discussed where to aim for and we actually had time to weigh up each other’s preferred places before deciding to separate. She was on the barrier, far left (Martin and Ida’s side) in front of the speakers. I had two ‘rows’ in front of me but was a bit more towards the middle (not ‘in’ the middle I hasten to add), and for minimal queuing it seemed like a result. Most of the people in front of centre stage were sitting on the ground and pulling out pieces of pizza etc. Kath said that at one point she was the only person around who wasn’t eating! Most of the fun I had waiting, came from watching the two girls in front of me stopping the young man in front of them from bringing his friend/s to stand with him at the barrier in front of us. They were very nice about it but he was left in no doubt that he couldn’t do it. To be fair, we never saw anyone get close but he looked very sad. The girls behind me dealt with a similar situation at the side of me. No unpleasantness, they just weren’t letting late arrivals stand at the front. At one point there was a sudden rush from the back causing most of the ones sitting down to stand up. They took much less space that way which was fair but it gives you an anxiety about being crushed against the barriers. It was very hot and sweaty as we waited. I could tell I was dehydrated already with that dry dust taste in my mouth, but there were no options. The time went on surprisingly well with the music track including Paolo, and it was time for the support group. They were French and although I heard their name twice, it began with P but wasn’t a word I recognised. There were three of them; a dark haired man in a military jacket, another young man and a young woman. And they all played piano keyboards! I thought they were fine, better than some who have supported Mika. There was some drumming by one of the men and the woman also played a piano accordion. Just lovely. Modern French music. After they finished a security man passed some bottles of water into the crowd. I tried to get one but was told to share with a woman and her son who had one next to me, I watched while she drank, he did, she had a second drink and then he did. She had obviously no idea that I was waiting! She poured water on her hands and rubbed her son’s head. More water and dabbed their necks. I couldn’t bear it as she prepared to dribble it on him so I asked if I could have some. They gave me the bottle immediately and I drank as if my life depended on it! Oh that was so good. The visions of my mass being hoiked over the barrier in a faint faded away and I settled to the evening in much better spirits.

The next day, May 1st, was gig day. I had very cold feet about a stadium gig; if Mika had announced his UK dates before these, I would absolutely not have even considered attending this one. Kath’s wise words were that it was a new experience, something to compare previous and future gigs to. One thing we decided was not to get involved with early queuing. I know, I know, I said that about Dublin and then still queued in the freezing cold, but honestly, with the numbers of people and the different entry points these places have, it seemed to be a possible disastrous game. Also, the French are very fond of Mika “Ils l’adore” and the fact that he fills these enormous venues meant that we were going to be just one of the punters. We spent the morning till 2 p.m. on the beach, discovering too late that May 1st means shops shut up as if it were a Sunday. So we had no food, no water bottles, nothing for a picnic in the queue. We decided that arriving at 4ish would be wise, so we set off for the bus. What bus? No buses today; it’s May 1st. I would have thought that the man in the tabac could have warned us at the point of sale, but I would have thought wrong. We decided to get as far as the airport and then find a taxi onwards. No airport bus either. No bus to an international airport?? Good grief! Well, heck, who needs buses? It’s pretty flat along the prom with many velo bleu (bikes) for hire. We investigated and pressed buttons but we needed a telephone card or to make a call and as neither of our phones had managed to go roaming, that wasn’t going to happen. No option: plan Z: pay whatever it cost for a taxi. Someone directed us to the stand and off we went, passing the place we’d set out from 45 minutes earlier! The fare cost us 30 euros which made the idea of staying in a local hotel instead of using this free place seem worth reconsidering. My heart sank at the number of people already waiting. We saw Sara etc and they explained the queuing system: early MFCers and the first 100 non MFCers, then other queues snaking around barriers and out into the open spaces. We joined one. Gosh it’s an ordeal. Bleak, nothing to look at, no stalls for water or snacks and as it had managed to rain, not really a possibility of sitting down. But on the up-side; no burning sun, no freezing British February weather and starting to queue a tad before 5 pm cut down on the actual hours of life spent in that queue. After about half an hour, I left Kath to go and see if anything was happening with the MFCers. Good timing by me as, while we were talking, Mrs P. came out for boys, big girls and lollipop girls. Sorry, I annoyed her immediately by holding my camera up – oops! and she told me off. As Hotdlp walked to the gate I noticed her sweatshirt and took a photo of that instead. I watched as people were chosen, some even had their waistlines pinched! I was working out my French to say, if asked if I wanted to be one, that I had already – the word déjà featured, but I’m never sure about been. été, I think. When the fun was over and Sara had thrown her water bottle over the fence for me (thanks: it was literally all we’d had to drink since midday!) I went back to Kath.

So, it all began with a crack of 3 a.m. rise and journey to Liverpool airport on Friday. Everything went smoothly and I took off on time at 06:10. I had a horribly painful throat and a nasty cough and as we came in to land I had shooting pains across my forehead and in my ears which left me hearing the echoing sounds of a huge sea shell. My first attempt at speaking French sounded, to me, as if I was whispering in a swimming pool, but I was understood. Achievement! I found the bus stop and asked for the right stop on the Promenade des Anglais. So far, so good, and all in French. The next problem was finding where I was staying but a bit of reinterpreting the directions found me indoors in the total pitch dark where I blundered into someone’s door and scared us both half to death. At least she showed me a light switch albeit unsmilingly. I let myself in to where I was staying and found pitch dark again. More dithering and blundering found a light switch and then sets of shutter winders which let the daylight in. I was close to a supermarket and found everything I wanted, again practising my French. When I was settled I guessed Kath would be arriving but when I went to the meeting place she was already half way through a drink. Somehow the journey which took me an hour and a quarter was only 40 mins for her. We had a drink; I lapsed back into speaking English, came back, shopped (again) and at some point decided to do a reccy of the Palais Nikaia. Our bus tickets were valid all day so we set off. The first bus set us down but a lady at the bus stop said it was ‘loin’ (far) We walked some way but weren’t even sure of the direction till a helpful man in a hotel reception area drew a map but helpfully suggested buses. It was very far indeed. The next bus dropped us off near a sign for the palais, but we couldn’t find it. We walked through a rather hairy housing estate, the kind of area the French hide from tourists more successfully than the British I think. So we decided to go home and got the same bus driver who must have thought we were crazy when I told him, “nous ne pourrons pas le chercher” (we couldn’t find it) Anyway, we’d learnt it was a flippin’ long way away, and the number of the bus to get. So home, Mika on iTunes, Mika picture screen saver and bed.

As ever my report will be in chunks covering more than the gig. You may wonder at the length of this report: let me explain.... I had an e mail from Easyjet to say my flight to Nice was cancelled. Then I had one to say my flight back was cancelled too. Then I had one saying my flight out wasn’t cancelled, it was an error. I e-mailed to confirm because the flight time had changed. They e-mailed back telling me not to bother them with e-mails as they were very busy! Charming. So I let it be for weeks. Then they said I could do on-line check in. I did that, no problem, printed off boarding passes and went to Nice on Friday without problems. Sadly when I got to the airport yesterday afternoon there was no flight home. They were very nice and they transfered me to earlyish this morning. I planned to drop my case off here and use my bus ticket to roam in the other direction, towards the port and have an evening adventure. But I was spooked by someone outside my building in Nice who accosted me. He wouldn’t back off and was standing between the fob button and the door. I know I’d be fine but I decided to stay put. So I was the only lonely one, putting my time to good use writing my report. So bear with me as I go into really unnecessary detail.

Hello, I came on-line to post my report and have been wrapped up in this queuing saga! For what it's worth I think anyone who will queue all day MFCer or not, should have some certainty of a good spot. As other's have said it encourages them to join the MFC and no fair-weather fan would consider an early start. I always take a print off from the RSVPs when I go to gigs. I like seeing who's who. People seem to like to point themselves out. I know that some of us don't sign up but if John is serious about priority to MFC, that list would be a starting point. We planned to arrive at 4pm, so not early, and were unavoidably later than that. Sara explained that there were numbered MFCers, numbered others and everyone else had to join the queue. But actally it wasn't a queue. There were at least 8 queues and we felt that was both fair and reasonable. So, I'll go to report thread now - and get well soon from your cold, Sara! ~x~

Pity. I will see you there or after I'm sure. Safe journey

Anyone?

We call that French toast. But I bet it isn't of French origin (unless you know differently!) I think it's called gypsy bread too. Or gypsy toast.