It was a rite-of-passage weekend for me – I finally visited the bar at Newcastle University to see a double-header gig: Boom Crash Opera and James Reyne.
Actually, it might have been the first time I’ve ever stepped foot on the grounds of Newcastle University, despite being a Newie girl.
The uni didn’t offer a journalism degree when I was a teenager, so I set my sights on Mitchell College in Bathurst.
But fate had different ideas and I skipped uni altogether, scoring for a cadetship at the Newcastle Herald instead.
On Friday night, more than 40 years later, I was thrashing around on the dance floor at the Bar on the Hill, Vodka Cruiser in hand.
Forgetting I was 58, I went too hard too early with the dancing and could barely stand by the time James Reyne stepped on stage and started playing the harmonica. The crowd went wild as harmonica = Boys Light Up.
Can you believe he was only 21 when he wrote that song? Blows my mind.
But let me rewind.
We were supposed to see Boom Crash Opera and James Reyne with our friends Kim, Jason, Kirsten and Darren at Toronto. But the gig was cancelled for some reason and popped up at the uni instead.
We eagerly bought tickets a gazillion months ago, before April decided to be a bitch.
In a nutshell, we were supposed to go the Bluesfest on April 2, but it got cancelled. Plan B was to head to Fingal Bay on April 3, but I was bedridden with a horror virus.
I finally felt well enough to travel on April 5, but was delayed by a sewage pipe exploding in the backyard of our apartment block and flooding a downstairs unit. We finally arrived that evening, then drove back to Sydney on April 10.
DD drove up and back down the freeway again on April 11 for his cousin’s 70th birthday. And on 17 April we did a one-nighter in Newie for the gig.
So we were pretty weary when we arrived on Friday night and tucked into a yummy pre-gig dinner at the Lambton Park Hotel.
I had roasted chicken with goats cheese, lemon & spinach filling, butter bean & sage purée, grilled asparagus and herbed potatoes. Nom nom.
It was pretty funny turning up at the Bar on the Hill – it was packed with over 50s, with just a smattering of uni-aged kids.
One of the things that I love about going to gig with over 50s is most people are short due to growing up in the 70s. According to Business Insider, this could be because the “baseline portion size of our snacks and meals has grown by as much as 138% since the 1970s.”
It means you can actually see the band performing over people’s heads because the audience weren’t that tall to begin with … and have started to shrink.
Boom Crash Opera were their usual joyous selves, living their best lives of stage and bringing smiles to the faces of everyone in the audience. I never tire of hearing them sing Onion Skin, Great Wall, Dancing in the Storm and other 80s classics.
But this is what I looked like by the time I hobbled back out of the venue at 10pm …
I could barely keep my eyes open or put one foot in front of the other (and I only had one icky Vodka Cruiser) as we stumbled back to the car.
The next morning we popped over to Dixon Park for a coffee and toastie with an ocean view, dropped in to see my dad at the nursing home and hurtled back down the highway to Sydney.
We were due at our friends Corbin and Natalie’s place by 4pm and we still had to procure the ingredients for a nibbles plate – and Americano cocktails – and put the finishing touches on our potato salad.
Corbin has a smoker and supplied the pulled ham, pulled pork and pulled lamb, alongside the biggest casserole dish of mac n’ cheese I’ve ever seen.
Much merriment and cocktails followed, with our friends Benny and Eliza supplying homemade pav and apple pie for dessert.
As fate would have it, Boom Crash Opera were playing that night just five minutes away from our dinner. But, while the spirit was willing, the flesh was too weak. Dammit.
After a few hours pottering wearily around the house on Sunday morning, I went home to get my apartment in order before heading to Pilu at Freshwater for dinner with DD’s uni friends.
What I didn’t realise was that it’s a set four-course dinner at Pilu on Sundays. Our feast included onion focaccia with rosemary butter; yellowfin tuna with tomato, pinenuts and basil; caserecce with almond and lettuce pesto; the restaurant’s famed suckling pig; and a very rich, very chocolatey dessert.
Best. Crackling. Ever.
Suffice to say I’ve stretched my stomach back to its pre-virus size.
What a weekend. Big. Huge.
Hope you had a good one.
Song of the day: Remember me telling you last week that I was seeing a band that sings a song about self-pleasure? Well, it’s Australian Crawl with “Boys light up” (listen for “mother’s little helper” line)
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