Oh Lordy

What a gig.

I'm still absolutely spent 24 hours later. Easily the best concert I've been to in London and one of the best I've ever been to. I managed to pleasantly surprise myself that I am not, in fact, too old and sensible to get wonderfully sweaty moshing at gigs these days - I just hadn't been to see the right band. One of the great things about last night was that every person in the place was a fan - or if they weren't, they were within two minutes of the opening bars. The entire place was jumping - well, either jumping or careering around flinging random strangers from side to side in a sort of ceilidh-style interpretation of gypsy dancing. I even danced with a strange man and didn't feel in the slightest bit odd. Not even a sniff of the media wankers that infiltrate every other London gig, who don't know or even like the music but are just there because it was free.

In short, Gogol Bordello turned out to be everything I hoped it would be and had built up in my mind that it was going to be - I was setting myself up for disappointment but I needn't have worried. It must have been good, as I didn't view the entire thing through the view finder of my camera - hence I don't have nearly as many pictures of the gig as usual. What can I say, I was too busy fannying about, and on one of the few occasions I did take it out, a combination of my greasy hand and a badly-timed shove from behind saw £90 worth of two week old gadget fly spiraling into the middle of the crowd. Quite how it survived unscathed and I managed to locate it was just one of those things - nothing bad was going to happen last night.

I was helped warm up by a longer than expected stop off at the pub to pick up my dance partners, downing two pints in about 30 minutes. Then it was off to the Academy, and the moshing and sweating commenced - again, ably lubricated by a constant stream of beer courtesy of some military-precision bar visits by the Polish contingent. Every time I looked around, another pint was being thrust in my hand. This, combined with the obvious need to go for a pint afterwards meant I got to bed at one a.m. after seven pints - not ideal when I had to get up for work this morning. But a combination of the amount of energy and sweat I expended during the gig and the fact I had such a good time meant it didn't really hit me, apart from the fact I am dead on my feet now and off to bed.

I haven't spent an entire two hours with a smile on my face for quite some time, but I was grinning maniacally for the duration - at least until the end when I didn't have the energy to move my facial muscles anymore. As training for the 10K goes, I think it was pretty successful!!!

I even got a bit of a shock to find the guy I know from back home on stage introducing them - "are you ready for the best f***in band in the world?!?!?"

Yes Paul, we were.

* sorry for the rubbish picture layout - too tired to mess about with it