The day started with this conversation:
*whispered* Joost: "Freek, what time is it?"
*whispered* Freek: "half past ten?"
Joost: "OH THEN I CAN TALK IN A REGULAR VOICE".
I know, I should love him for who he is, but still, I punched him.
We started our 5-hour drive from Dublin to Cork by getting breakfast from a local supermarket, and the breakfast usually consisted of bagels with currants in them, horrible jelly rolls, croissants, coffee and something horribly sweet which we later discovered to be orange syrup which should be diluted. Little did we know.
Along our drive, we decided to be a bit of tourists and go and visit something called Cashel Rock. It appears to be a lovely old castle, but since we needed to pay an entrance fee, we didn't go in, because it was expensive enough as it was. But when we walked down, we saw a decrepit old structure in the middle of some pastures, and well, that was old too, and free apparently, so we decided to take a shot and walk over. Along the way, we picked up a smelly old dog somehow. When we saw the structure was called Hore Abbey, we knew we hit the sweet spot. It was beautifully derelict, and we took some awesome bandpics there, which'll follow soon. The dog pissed on every gravestone it saw, and so we decided to go away as soon as possible. But still, it had a decent creepy vibe to it.
When we arrived at Cork, the first thing that we noticed was the hordes of hipster-kids. Too many kids with weird hair-colours and guyliner, so we knew we'd get lucky tonight. But since we were early, we first played football with some local kids. One of them was a small boy which was teased by some of the kids, and even though we didn't really WANT to play with him, we couldn't get it passed our hearts to tell him to bugger off. He seemed really thankful for treating him decently, and the girls really couldn't seem to grasp why we would even TRY to treat him like a proper human being, so it served them right to be harassed by Joost's Cthulu-esque screams of affection.
The Quad took some time to find, but it's a really awesome place to play at, a small venue without a stage, and lots of people involved that really want to have a good time!
First up was Council of Tanaith, a proper old-school doom band. Nice Candlemass-vibes, and decent guys, good way to start the evening. Next was Siorai Gheimriadh again. And even though it still breaks my heart I can't get the spelling right, THEY SLAYED! The sound was spot-on for them, and the meandering noise riffs really grasped the attention. Awesome, awesome guys, raging, raging music.
This was the first night I really thought we had a proper set. The crowd, 100ish people, really seemed to enjoy themselves, and when we were done with our standard set (FYI: Prometheans, Roots of Doomsday Anxiety, Non Timetis Messor, Vertigo- the Mithraic ritual, Contre le monde, contre la vie) they actually cheered us on and asked for another song. Even though the song wasn't really finished yet, we played A Marriage of Flesh and Air, and that really went down well too! Safe to say, we ended on a high.
After the show, we talked with lots of people, and got to know another Dutch guy, Kevin. He got us into the only scary part of the tour. When we stood outside of the venue, some drugged-up guys walked past and bumped into Freek and Kevin. Freek let is pass, but Kevin started shouting out them. One of the druggies turned around, grabbed a bottle, broke it on the sidewalk, and came for us. "Luckily" he didn't stab any one, but he threw it at us, mildly injuring Freek who got hit by a piece of glass just above the eye. The police and two bouncers come to the rescue and took the guys down, but damn...it could have ended ugly.
At 0200, when we were drunk and rich, we were shown our sleeping place for the night, again somewhere where the original inhabitants left us for the night. As sweet as they were, as filthy their apartment reeked of ferret, which they had walking around there, and crapping around too. But hey, we're a rock band man, fuck it! All of us dropped off within hal an hour of arrival, happy, whiskied up and full of memories of awesomeness.
Joost siegs an abbey.
Boris knows his merch