Day 498
Friday November 15
I’ve got a really cool route planned today for us to have a good look at Madrid. And at the end of that, something even cooler. Maja’s going to meet Rick for the first time today, and I’m going to see him for the first time in ten years. He’s been a huge supporter and champion of ours from the very beginning. Right from when we got together, and then right from when we first said we were going to have a proper go at this music thing. Maja’s chatted to him on the phone quite a lot and we all share a pretty constant stream of voice memos as he asks how we’re getting on and about any latest developments.
The walk I have planned to show Maja a good compact chunk of the city is a really great circle, and when Rick suggests we meet at Opera in mid afternoon, which is pretty much just at the end of my walk before doubling back to complete the circle, it all falls into place perfectly. First, the planned route. I really think it’s the kind of walk only local knowledge could provide.
From the hostel on Calle Ballesta out onto and across Gran Via. Down Calle de la Montera to the first landmark of Sol, Madrid’s great open square. From Sol down Calle Mayor to Plaza Mayor. Every Spanish city has a Plaza Mayor, with Madrid’s example being one of the most spectacular and historic parts of the city. We’ll leave Plaza Mayor through its diagonal and opposite corner from where we entered to go down Calle Toledo and come to Cava Baja, Madrid’s famous tapas bar street. At the end of this is La Latina, one of Madrid’s main party districts and possibly its closest resemblance to Camden. This will see us take in Mercado Cebada – a spectacular indoor market – then walk towards one of Madrid’s most spectacular churches, the hugely domed Royal Basilica of Saint Francis. This stands right at the end of Calle San Buenaventura, a street containing just one apartment block in which I used to live, so we’ll be seeing another of my old places, which means that that Mercado Cebada thing used to be somewhere I just popped into for some shopping on my way home. From here we’ll go through a lovely old park before coming to the incredible and scary bridge that is part of Calle Bailen. That will take us over to the Royal Palace and great views over Casa de Campo, Madrid’s natural park. Continue past the palace and you’re into Plaza de Espana, a centrepiece of the streets of the city. From here it’s a double back onto Gran Via, the bottom of the street from where we started as we crossed to Montera up at the far end. But instead of going up Gran Via we’ll be taking the right of a fork in the road to slip behind the main street and into some of the backstreets to make our way to Opera. Which is where we have planned to meet Rick.
It all works out perfectly with some great pictures along the way, especially in the famous Plaza Mayor. Then I start to get into some serious memory lane territory. A big part of this spectacular walk used to be one of the routes I would take home after one of my teaching jobs as I would often choose to get off at Sol to do that very walk through Sol, Calle Mayor then Plaza Mayor and then the whole thing through La Latina to home. It is seriously emotional to be back here as I get hit by waves of nostalgia I really hadn’t been expecting. Then we hit La Latina and I take Maja to the Mercado Cebada. Well, the second she enters that her jaw just hits the floor and she wants to go in and see everything. It really is a great scene as you enter at street level, but so much of the market is on the floor below down an immediate set of stairs, so you really can take a whole lot of it in from here. And it’s a whole array of incredible fruit, veg, fish and meat stalls with so many other things in between. So in we go and get between it all as I once again pass by stalls I used to use all the time. There’s a feature in here I don’t remember, but they must have been here, and that’s that there are loads of little bars in here. Maja gets a mad idea. Oh, let’s come here one night and just go round all these bars. But when I ask one of them, the owner says that the whole place closes at six every evening and that of course means the bars too. Oh yeah. This happens in Spanish. Maja is hearing me speak Spanish now for kinda the first time – she once heard me speak a tiny amount with an Argentinian guy the time we took a day trip to Elephant and Castle, all the way back before we even moved to Ireland. Now in Madrid again, I’m surprised at how much it’s coming back. Like even in my mind when a phrase or a sentence pops up and I think, could I say that in Spanish? And I discover that yes, I can. I did work on refreshing it at home before coming here, mostly while Maja was away in Sweden for a while and I got stuck back into the, sorry, ridiculous robbery drama Money Heist. I loved the first two seasons, the ones that made it a global phenomenon, but it did get silly didn’t it? Still, it’s fun and it’s Spanish so it was great to help me try to get my head back into the language again after almost ten years without using it. Well, barely using it. I very gratifyingly had Gary Lineker no less confirm this recently when I was listening to one of his The Rest Is Football podcasts. In that he spoke about trying to use his Spanish but would find that only English came back from the person he was talking to so he gave up. I’ve experienced something very similar since leaving Madrid and encountering Spanish people in day to day life. You try, you’re thrilled to be able to say, hey look, I can speak your language, then there’s a crushing disappointment as it’s not even acknowledged that you’ve just spoken Spanish and all that comes back is English. Yeah. Sorry to say that I did give up on keeping up with my Spanish after leaving Madrid after a few such experiences in London. So I’m massively pleasantly surprised to discover here that it’s still in something of a decent shape. Far more than I’ve been thinking it would have been.
All this is to say that we now go proper deep into the market to places I never visited in here before. With that we find an empanada bar. An empanada is a kind of Spanish pie which uses bread dough instead of pastry, and it all gets baked to produce a wonderfully crunchy finish. We have come to Museo de la Empanada. Here we get (or more accurately I get) chatting to the owner and master empanada maker Valdemo. We also chat to a customer who’s sitting there with us called Reggie. He speaks great English so Maja’s all good there. This is the first time Maja’s ever heard me really get into a proper Spanish conversation. Funny enough, Valdemo tells us he’ll be in London in the next few weeks as he often goes over and stays in Elephant and Castle. As we saw, the first place Maja heard my speak any kind of Spanish at all. We introduce ourselves properly to him and Reggie as The Diaries and Valdemo says he’ll be sure to come and visit us in Camden next time he’s in London. So maybe he will. Wow. Making Madrid friends out and about on the street. Now onto his empanadas – one chicken one beef seeing as you were asking – and we get stuck in. He makes them himself and they are simply the best empanadas I’ve ever had. Nothing comes close. And what a wonderful setting in which to enjoy them. You can kind of think of this place as being like an open bar but for eating rather than drinking. So yeah, all four of us just hang out for a while.
After we leave, we continue having a bit of a look around the market and then we’re back out on the street and soon onto another literal memory lane as we pass another of my old apartments, in building number seven, Calle San Buenaventura. It’s from this apartment that I packed up my life and bass one day and began the journey to move to London. All there in Mark’s Diaries – marksdiaries.wordpress.com. So yeah it really does feel quite emotional when we walk down the street and there I am, right in front of the main entrance again.
Right. A little walk taking in the very local area, including some fantastic concrete benches which look out over a steep drop across which you can see the palace and Casa de Campo. It’s to that palace we begin the walk now, first going across the super high bridge of Calle Bailen which looks down over the road of Calle Segovia. And here we are now in front of the Royal Palace and in front of the spectacular gardens of Plaza del Oriente, one of my favourite little zones of Madrid. We take a while to stop here and walk around the side of the palace from where we can see into the courtyard and all the people taking the palace tour. At the end of this little cul de sac, we again get a great view of Casa de Campo and the fountain that shoots a single shot high into the sky from the boating lake. The thing can be seen from all over the city, often poking up into the skyline and visible from all kinds of surprising places.
Now we go down and skirt Plaza de Espana – that and beyond it will be a trip for another day – and do the double back thing to walk to Opera, pretty much perfectly in time. We’re just generally milling about in the wide open square when I get a tap on the shoulder. I turn around and there’s Rick. Damn. Maja, Rick, Rick, Maja. And Rick’s young son who was born just after I left Madrid, so is himself ten years old. But I’m going to mostly leave him out of any account purely on the grounds of privacy. Right, this is big. Our first time together again in ten years and the first time Rick and Maja have actually properly met. Rick’s first impression – he didn’t realise she was so tall. Fair enough. My theories on the use of measuring tape have always leaned towards the economical so I guess one could assume that Maja might at least be a bit more on my side of the page regarding that. But no.
After this it’s just an afternoon filled with joyous catching ups, reminiscences and getting you know you-es. Along the way, Rick continues the theme of the day of showing Maja around as we gently meander these historic streets. From here we make a leisurely beeline for Plaza Mayor and Madrid’s famous calamari bocadillo bar. A bocadillo is a sandwich made using a baguette, or French bread. Spanish friends often generated much hilarity from my insistence that the English translation of the wonderfully efficient Spanish word of bocadillo was French bread sandwich. Oh, and calamari incase you didn’t know is breaded deep fried squid rings. One of my absolute favourite things when I lived in Madrid. Often not quite done as well in England for some reason, although that has improved. I never used this shop when I lived here, mostly because the queue outside it was always enormous. But hey, that’s gotta tell you something, right? They were always also ridiculously cheap at just €2 each. Oh wow. So it’s [control] [alt] 4 to get the Euro sign. I’ve literally only just worked out and learned that. I’ve always seen the Euro sign on the 4 underneath the dollar sign on the 4. Just never really tried to figure out how to actually get it.
So yeah. These squid ring things. Quite brilliant and we go and settle ourselves just outside the Mercado de San Miguel. Where Mercado de Cebada was the very neirbourhoody locals market, Mercado de San Miguel is pure tourist trap territory. Everything super luxurious looking and everything super expensive. Where Cebada offers beer, empanadas, and the best freshly ground beef mince I’ve ever encountered, San Miguel is all prosecco, oysters and fancy cakes. And where we had the run of Cebada pretty much to ourselves, this is full on dramatic atmosphere. A really quite exhilarating and fascinating place to experience and see, but it’s fair to say we don’t stop and attempt the weekly shop. But really great for Maja to be able to add this to her been there done that Madrid checklist.
We wander round for a little while longer, just taking in the Madrid sights and sounds, then we head to a bar Rick knows very well in Callao, so we get to sit outside and have a beer and a little food right on the junction of Callao and Gran Via. Another great spot from which to take things in. This is a lovely calm sit down now and Rick has to head off after 40 minutes or so. It’s been just amazing to see him again and to see him and Maja chatting and we make tentative plans to get together again on Monday. But no, unfortunately that doesn’t happen. But as we say goodbye now, we do it like we’ll assume Monday won’t happen. So yeah. I’m really glad we weren’t just like, ‘Great to see you, catch you again in a few days.’ So maybe next time we see Rick it might just be in London. He might even make it to a show. Fast forwarding(ish). If we were to catch up again on Monday, we had even more tentative plans to try a little early evening Now Hustle which Rick could maybe have come along on. But once it’s clear he’s not going to be able to make it, we totally forget about trying to play on Monday and just have another Madrid day out before it’s time for the Frank Turner show, the whole purpose for this trip in the first place.
I really should mention Rick’s Youtube channel now. Rick Meets World. This is where he takes you round various cities he visits, exploring a different aspects of tourism, lifestyle and culture in each video. He started off doing a series of videos on Madrid and through this has recommended a bunch of bars and restaurants.He’s a wonderfully laid back and highly proactive presenter and I really suggest going and checking his videos out. Two of his stand out tapas bars in Madrid are a bar offering what he suggests could be the best tapas in Madrid and another one offering the biggest portions of tapas in Madrid. We plan on visiting both of them, starting now with Casa del Abuelo The other, El Tigre, will be visited on another day. On the way we pass through the busy pedestrian intersection of Callao and Gran Via.
Right. I have absolutely no idea why or how this next thing happens. Me and Maja are just passing Callao metro station and stop to get our bearings a little. We’re heading to Sol where we will find Casa del Abuelo and, for alternatives of afters, all kinds of interesting side streets. As we’re standing here contemplating, a guy comes up and says hello with total confidence and purpose. It seems quite innocent, which isn’t always the case with random stranger approaches, at least in most cities, and at least when not immediately accompanied by requests for directions of some sort. I can only think Maja somewhat stands out, even on Madrid’s busiest pedestrian junction, because the guy saying hi to us is soon joined by his friend. Before I know what’s happening, the four of us are just chatting and it’s come out that yes we’re here on holiday, while I lived here around ten years ago. I thought this was going to make more sense when I started writing it, but no. I think I’m still as confused as you are. OK. So, the guy who’s first said hello is called Fede, and his friend is David. Fede’s a former TV presenter who is also a film maker and actor, while David is an actor. It appears they’re standing on this bustling corner keeping an eye out for interesting looking people to film. For what, we still have no idea. While we’re chatting, the reason for our visit comes up, as does the fact that we are also performers and managed to play last night. With this, Fede’s already quite warm interest really perks up and he asks if he could film us performing a song here. What? Here? What? Right now? We don’t even have a guitar with us. No matter. Can we do it? We’ve done it before and we know we can. With that, he turns round and picks up a small but very professional looking video camera setup. We see now that this has been lying among a bunch of other equipment which has all been stored next to a street kiosk. It’s now that we meet the third person in the group, Albert, the guy who runs the kiosk. OK. Now we have a Madrid street friend to say hello to while we’re out and about.
Now Fede turns back to us and asks what we’re going to do. Me and Maja look at each other. ‘Weather?’ That would be Talk About The Weather. Sure. Why not. I can’t remember if we wrote about this at the time, I don’t think we did, but worth the recap of the nightcap. The time we went from The Trap in Clara to the house of some friends, also without a guitar that particular night, and after a few (more) drinks got asked if we could play a song or two. We did and it kinda worked. At least for the vibe in the room. So yeah. We’re going to give that a go again. Except this time in early evening, peak rush hour in the centre of central Madrid. To be filmed by who knows who for who knows what. To be fair, we’re feeling pretty comfortable with Fede and David by now. But apart from being right on this busy pedestrian intersection, we’re also right by the metro exit with extra streams of people smashing by us every few seconds. Within all this, with Fede pointing the camera, we just go for it. I count in and Maja’s off. This song is perfect for this setting. A fast energetic rap verse into a pretty big pre chorus into a huge chorus. It has a massive singalong clapalong mid section and an enormous outro. Perfect for a capella exploding into the middle of a public street. The only minor problem is that I went so hard for vocals last night, and then was talking all night in a pretty loud bar on top of it all, that my singing voice is pretty much non existent. I have no range. Zero. I try to hit something and all that happens is a horrible squeak. So I mostly leave Maja to it, but then I’m just bouncing around contributing little to nothing, or maybe even less than that. Better not to be in it at all. But then that leaves Maja just singing to the air on her own. And it’s not like we had a chance to think or talk about this, or even know that little aspect of it was going to happen. So we just smash on through. I think it goes well. It’s fun. It’s epic. It’s so so random. We have no idea how it happened, and what a way to introduce yourself to a city. And the guys react fantastically when we (well, one of us at least) soars up to the last climactic, triumphant note of the song. Oh, Maja hits that well. What rock star balls to stand in the middle of a busy street and just roar that to the sky. Well, we’ve done it. And apparently it will all be available on a screen near us soon. After all that we enthusiastically swap cards with Fede and David and promise to check each other out online in the coming days.
At the time of writing – January, about two months later – there’s still no sign of it being up anywhere although we have had a little online chat since then for a hello. Maybe he’s just not got round to it, or maybe my excuse at an attempt for vocals just showered over the whole thing and it’s unusable. But wherever it is and whatever it looks and sounds like, it was a great experience and gave us the chance to perform in just the most amazing setting under the most unexpected of circumstances. And it was an amazing impromptu street encounter. And we’re totally counting that as a performance in Madrid. Yes, it’s going on our gig guide.
Having said a wonderful goodbye to them and left them to look for their next mini project, we make our way towards Sol and into the labyrinth of streets around it. I lived in Madrid for six years, very close to here, came here quite a lot, and it’s completely slipped my memory how many bars this place has, and how concentrated they all are. It’s all little tiny streets but with one bar after another all next door to each other and then more right across the narrow road. But we’re on a mission and making a beeline for Casa del Abuelo. Maja wants her pimientos padrones. While we’ve been here we’ve either been unlucky or Madrid is currently going through its great pimiento padrones shortage. We just haven’t been able to find anyone who does them. And when we have found them on a menu, we’ve been told, sorry. Not today. So we have a very specific criteria. When we get to Rick’s place, we discover it’s got a very specific and specialised menu. It looks brilliant, but we’re on a specific mission of our own. Never mind, they have another place right across the street so we go and check that out. It’s not the exact bar Rick featured on his channel, but it seems to have the same high, exacting standards. In a word, success. We’ve finally found what we’re looking for and it’s game on as we are delivered a huge plate of Madrid’s finest pimientos padrones. Adorned with huge sparkling salt crystals and pan fried to the absolute zenith of perfection. We have arrived.
While we’re sitting here my phone pings and it’s a message from Rich, the host from last night. He’s just had a thought to mention another open mic to me, this one in a place called El Pez Gato on Calle Pez, Malasana. Oh wow. I know Calle Pez. Turn left out of my old place and it’s the next street after the crossroads at the end. Go to the end of that – it’s a long enough street – and you’re at El Pez Gato. Which translates as The Fish Cat. No. I have no idea. But thanks a lot for that Rich. I get straight back and tell him we’ll check it out.
After this fantastic pit stop, we have a plan for the evening. Maja wants to see a flamenco show. In all the time I was here I never went and never felt the urge to. And if I’d thought of it during this trip, it’s not an activity I would have suggested. Sorry, I just don’t get it. You know. Musical genres. Some of them just don’t quite get your boat across the pond do they? This is definitely one of them for me. The style of guitar, the type of singing, the whole flowing dancing thing in front of it. I’ve always been able to respect it and damn some of the techniques on display are impressive. But sorry, but no. But we’re in Spain, home of Flamenco, and Maja really thinks we should see what it’s all about. It’s origins are in southern Spain rather than Madrid, which is completely central, but it’s still a huge deal here. I’ll say this now. It’s only after tonight that I suddenly start to spot just how many flamenco bars there are in this city. Damn. The place is full of them. I genuinely had no idea.
Right. You have, have, have to go to a flamenco show. Oh wow. I had no idea. Maja neither, really. What an amazing experience. Who knew? It really is that whole thing about you just don’t know until you go. Hear it on the radio, see it on TV. No. Not for me. And it really hasn’t been, and I still wouldn’t go and seek it out like that. But being there. Oh. Just wow. Incredible. I have experienced this kind of before. With bands that just weren’t for me. But you find yourself at a show, they’re on the line up and you think, oh well. I might as well. Then they come on and you’re like, ohhh. I get it. Even to the point of being something of a fan afterwards. Well this is what happens between me and flamenco tonight through the ten small shows featuring solo dancers, male and female, and at least one changeover of the backline of musicians. It was very much more Maja’s idea to go and she was a bit more up for it, but even so. She got taken by surprise too. Even the music that I’d never got my head round completely turns me. But the marriage between that and the dancers. Oh, I am totally sold on that. Captivating and exhilarating. It’s almost the same feeling you get when you witness a great sporting encounter which just leaves you breathless and overcome with excitement at what you’ve just seen. We emerge delightedly onto the street wondering what more this day could possibly have in store for us. Let’s go find a bar.
For this I suggest our next destination should be Chueca, the exciting creative district behind Gran Via. That’s just a short walk from here so we head off in that general direction. Chueca is more a direction to walk in. If we find something that really appeals between now and there we’ll head in. Otherwise…we arrive in Chueca, wander round for a while and then we find it. Oh wow. How can we not? I’m sure you know what it’s like. That option paralysis when you’re so overwhelmed by choice you can’t choose anything. Well, this is the opposite of that. The bar we’ve just totally randomly come across is called CBGB. CB actual GB. And yes it’s a punk rock bar. And yes it’s named after the legendary home of punk of the same name in New York. But really, a lot of seriously ingenious creativity has gone into naming this bar. It has a secondary name of La Buena Cerveza – literally the good beer, which comes from the words its used to be able to appropriate the synonym: Craft Beer, Good Beer. Wow. Yep. Genius. But yes, it really is a punk rock bar and yes, its owner really is a fan of the original and inspired by its sentiments and ethos. Please may we introduce you to Nacho, the owner and founder.
We settle at the bar and immediately feel at home as we chat to Nacho about music in general and the fantastic bar he has here. He is indeed a devotee and even made it to the legendary CBGB in New York before it closed down in 2006. When we tell him about our own music, we give him the description we’ve really solidified on in the past few months. Rockpop with a punk attitude and an 80s vibe. With that, he says he would love to hear it. Could we give him a link. We tell him how to find us on Spotify and before we know it he’s replaced the music in the bar with our own latest track How You Rock’n’Roll. He loves it immediately and ripples also go round the bar. It’s only sparsely populated right now. About five or six other people in this longish room, and a few others out back. But they’re all getting into it and are thrilled when we turn round and announce that this is us they’re hearing right now. One or two people are skeptical, but Maja just starts singing along and they realise, oh, this is true. Attitudes suddenly change and faces light up. Our sound fills the bar and Nacho is really loving it. The song finishes and we think, right, that’s that. Thankyou very much. But no. Here comes Rock’n’Roll Tree. While this is playing, without a word, Nacho takes one of our stickers, goes outside and puts it on front door. Again, wow. Our sticker is now out on the street on CBGB in Madrid, put there by the very owner himself as our music played in his bar.
When Rock’n’Roll Tree is over, we thank Nacho profusely and also, almost as profusely, insists that he stops now because we know what’s coming up next. Insanity. Our most gentle song by far, and probably not quite what you want in a rocking punk bar on a Friday night. But he wants to keep listening. OK. We’re sure he’ll listen to a few bars, say thankyou and return to the air shattering punk that was playing when we came in.
But no. He says he loves this one too and wants to keep it on. Well, what can we do, but sit there and just enjoy it as the calming arpeggiated acoustic guitar and two bass song caresses the atmosphere? When it’s over we know what’s coming up after this one and insist strongly, no, beg, that he really does turn it off now. No. He sees that there’s more to come and he wants to keep listening. Now we’re really apprehensive and are almost trying to sit low in our bar stools as The NOW Hustle EP comes on.
Right. The NOW Hustle EP.
This was supposed to be a thing. So much so that for quite a while we had plans to produce it as a vinyl release. To be fair, it is still actually a thing because it is up on Spotify.
Recorded at The Canal Turn, Ballymahon, county Longford, this was our second to last show before leaving Ireland to come to London. It was also one of our rare scheduled shows which meant we played much more than usual; ten songs, eight of which were actually recorded after we forgot to record the first two. Five made the cut for the EP. These were, in order of appearance, I Like You (Better When You’re Naked), Six Sense Lover, Make Me Shine, Rock’n’Roll Tree and How You Rock’n’Roll. That night we also played Beanie Love, Give Me The World, Fire, The Cat and A Thousand Doors.
A few months after arriving in London we first listened to the full show and were like, oh wow, this is such a good performance we should put it out. As with any show we record, we had only used a phone, so the sound quality wasn’t great. So we spent a good deal of time EQ-ing and generally processing the one-track recording as best we could. Still, we are no modern day George Martins, and, come on, it was recorded on a phone with no thoughts of release at the time. When the moment came and we were about to lay the money down to commit it to vinyl, we suddenly realised, no, we can’t do it. It’s just not at that level. One of the reasons being we just hadn’t been able to get the vocals high enough in the mix. That didn’t stop us putting it up on Spotify, as a curiosity more than anything. We did once try to play it in a pub but I don’t think we even made it to a first chorus before admitting, OK, it just doesn’t work. At. All.
Now we realise it’s about to come on in here.
I Like You (Better When You’re Naked) begins. It’s a fine performance and very much a live favourite. But it sounds so thin sitting next to the studio tracks we’ve just been listening to. We’re convinced it’s all about to be turned off and are getting ready to say, I told you so. But immediately Nacho declares, I really like it. What? This truly is someone who knows how to listen to music and understands what he’s listening to. He has the apparent ability to cut right through the bad, terrible, recording quality and drill down to the essence of the actual song and performance. I guess you have to do a lot of that in punk world, especially going right back to the early days when songs hit like killer live, but recordings could often be rudimentary and then played back on equipment that was yet more rudimentary still. It’s a theory. But whatever’s at play here, Nacho is entranced, looking over to us and giving knowing complimentary nods. All we can do is sit there in disbelief as he continues to play the full thing before finally returning to his own play list. As he does, he declares that he really enjoyed that. Oh wow. The boss of CBGB in Madrid approves of The Diaries and has just made the emphatic point of playing our entire playlist in public in his bar, including The NOW Hustle EP. This is the highest endorsement we have ever received. In fact, I’m not sure endorsements or credentials come much higher.
But now a really mad endorsement happens. A girl comes up to Maja and is, the only word for it is, starstruck. She sits down and really, really, can’t believe she’s speaking to the singer of those songs. We’re taken a bit aback and can only think this girl is convinced they’re famous songs and this girl sitting at the bar – Maja – must be an actual rockstar.
While this is going on, Nacho asks me if we could maybe play here on Monday. He thinks it will be too packed for us to fit in over the weekend, but with us leaving on Tuesday, maybe we could manage just before then. Of course we would love to, but Monday is the day of the Frank Turner show and the very reason we’ve come to Madrid in the first place. Oh well. That would have been fun.
Right. Let’s take a moment to take in what’s just happened here, apart from Maja having an encounter with a star struck instant fan. We are talking about a situation where we couldn’t stop our music being played by a punk aficionado in a bar we’ve never been to before. Again, endorsements don’t come much higher.
