Messy Night In Hanoi Rock City
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- Опубликовано: 30 ноя 2024
- Another night out in the Tay Ho district of Hanoi took me to Hanoi Rock City for the first time.
There were three bands playing. Unfortunately, I missed the first band but I was there in time to see Furr Cough play their first gig at Hanoi Rock City. I'd already seen them a number of times and they are always great.
I had not seen The Hanoings before and I wasn't expecting a 10 piece jazz band in Hanoi Rock City! They put on a great show!
It was a messy evening with food, music and lots of beer.
Join me as I get a bit wobbly in Hanoi, Vietnam.
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I always enjoy watching your vids man.Just a couple of thoughts I've had.
I guess on paper, if someone was to say it's just a guy walking the streets, chatting about what he sees, occasionally stopping for a bite to eat and a couple of beers before moving on, it might not be the best way of describing it.
What's the phrase? 'Greater than the sum of its parts'. You make it look effortless because you've got a great way of doing what you do. Hopefully not being too gushy or over-analytical but I feel genuine joy from watching your stuff. Always really nice to see you enjoying a good life.
And when you said something about going for a curry and hoping it doesn't get too messy, I thought that it's a brave man who wears a pale shirt with that plan in mind! Jeez, those turmeric stains, even Domestos won't get them out.
And psychedelic folk rock with jazz influences? Probably my favourite genre of music. I can listen to Bert Jansch all day long.
Good video. I liked the girl with the net skirt on the best.
💯What a voice. Wouldn't have thought Seven Nation Army would work in that style but she's crushing it.
Top vlog Scott 👍
That DJ sounds like just the ticket for you 😊
Big up for the Crust Pizza place
I'm pretty sure I saw Spud yesterday in the 'Spoons beside Barker's Pool. It would be unfair to say he looked a bit haggard and though the years had not been kind to him. I look like a haunted compost heap or Brian Blessed with a catastrophic liver disease these days so it would be unkind of me to comment about the ageing process.
I felt too shy to greet him. I'm not sure he would have recognised someone who appeared at Norfolk Park 30 years ago for a brief period and talked a lot of rubbish,
It was different when I saw Mick in Shakespear's a few years ago. It just felt right and so easy to talk to him. Like no time had gone by. He's definitely one of the good guys and one of the nicest blokes I've ever met.
You're likely to find spud anywhere you can buy a cheap pint.
@@globaltreats A man after my own heart, that Spud! You do have to be a bit careful in those cheap pint places though. Some people are characters and others appear to be interesting and quirky but eventually turn out to be utterly deranged.
I come out with so much nonsense, you'll think I'm making this up but here goes...
That same day, I was sat out the back of the Benjamin Hunstman and a very drunk man came staggering down the alley and joined me at my table where I sat alone. He was cheerful and friendly and I didn't pick up on bad vibes from him. A man of Romanian heritage who introduced himself as a serial killer (I'm guessing that he wasn't as such people don't usually openly advertise their lifestyle choices) and asked if I was one too. On reflection, perhaps I shouldn't have said "I certainly am! What are the chances of that?". He quickly became an annoying pest who wouldn't talk about anything else though there was no genuine menace about him.
He called one of his friends and said he'd met someone who wanted to kill him. His friend advised him to engage in certain practices with a close family relation that I will not repeat here. He suggested that his friend do the same, hung up and then started laughing hysterically.
When he approached a group of belligerent young men and started rambling on in the same vein, I realised the joke had worn thin, it wasn't going to end well and so I took the opportunity to leave. My new Romanian friend clocked me and pursued me along the alley urging me to return.
I crouched behind a Sainsbury's delivery van on Division St. to evade him and like in a scene from an absurd movie, it drove off leaving me squatting there as he walked by. I found another dark alley and thought about entering a bar from the rear in order to trigger an alarm and let the bouncers deal with him. I should have stayed in well lit areas when I think back on it but some kind of hunted rabbit instinct kicked in. The door I found was locked and my heart faltered but I was able to hide behind some bins as he ran past shouting unintelligibly. I'm glad to say that was the last I saw of him.
I'm too old and anxious for this sort of carry on! I'm 52, wear cardigans and listen to Radio 4. Why did fate visit me with such an unsettling incident?
TL;DR- In future, I think I'll only ever drink in places where the beer is more expensive and the patrons less unhinged.