Farrah

Band Blog

Back in Blighty

Hola, Bonjour… where am I? Back in London. It’s colder here than when I left to play the first Montana show in Madrid at the beginning of the month, but knowing we’re off to the Canary Islands at the end of the week takes the chill off the air.

Once again, touring around Spain was great. Santi Campos, the King of Spain (as coined by Paul Scott, and a chocolate maker who produces a coin with Santi’s likeness on it…) made sure we had a great time. Going above and beyond the call of duty, Santi made sure we were always up on time, fed and caffeinated and in the tour van enroute to the next gig. He even tried his hardest to shield me from the smoked legs of ham that seemed to adorn every restaurant/tapas bar/hotel/museum in Spain (yes, that’s right – there’s a chain called ‘Museum of Ham’ that Paul called ‘Piggy Auschwitz’, a term insists he didn’t plagiarise from Tim!). But aside from the food issues, Spain seems to be Farrah’s ‘spiritual’ homeland and we loved playing there. Everyone made us feel so welcome.

We had a ball touring with the Montana boys – the Aussies, Paul, Tim and Patrick, kept the Brits amused with their witty banter and ‘ixcellant’ accents, and the Farrah boys kept the Montana lads in smirks with their bummer jokes and toilet humour. Oh how nothing changes. Farrah were so impressed with the stylish dress sense of the antipodeans that we all adopted matching shirts in an attempt to get a little Montana chic… sadly we all just looked like a bowling team, especially me in my too-short skirt and oversized t-shirt.

Oh, and let’s not forget Dylan – the tour photographer. Haven’t seen any shots yet but if his Santa sack full of rolls of film is anything to go by, I can’t wait to see the tour in all its glory.

Anyway, I for one miss the Montana boys and am urging them to give up living in sunny Austopia and move to grim Britannia, but somehow I think they’ll give it a miss. Paul, Tim and Pat – thanks for a great tour. Hope we can do it again soon.

Anyway, Paris as always, was Paris – cool, chic and very measured, but we rocked like banshees and had a good time. Home now and back to the grind. Oh, until the Canary Islands on Friday… It’s a hard life.

See you at the next gig. Feel free to come rock out at Gran Canaria!

Mish xx