Northern Soul Weekender: Valencia, Spain. September 2000
by Matt Jahans
Left Reading early the Wednesday morning, a train from Reading to Gatwick to
meet up with Irish Greg, Carla Welch and Ady Lupton. Met up first with Greg and
Carla and then had a phone call from Ady saying that he was waiting in the
airport Costa Rica bar for us. What the young Mr. Lupton failed to realize was
that the airport had four of these! After searching them all Ady finally emerges
from an escalator dragging a large body bag on wheels - records and clothes!!
A couple of pints of Stella killed the waiting time and then it was off to the
luggage check in and the departure lounge. Finally on the plane, Greg and Ady
busied them selves with deep train spotting conversation whilst Carla and myself
enjoyed British Airway's children's puzzle book and got stuck into the Vodka, a
taste of things to come.
Landed in Valencia late afternoon and took the taxi to the hotel arranged by the
Spanish soulies - Greg thought that the taxi driver was 'starting' until he
realized that he was not in England and getting in the right front seat meant
sitting on the drivers lap. The hotel, A perfect place right in the old town
surrounded by café bars serving the finest in 'Valencian water' - the local
tipple of fresh orange juice, Vodka and Champagne, not quite as good as Vodka
and Redbull but 'when in Rome..'
The party started that night, Valencian water, Lager and Vodka topped off with
Tapas. Some of the Spanish crew met us to experience English and Irish alcohol
consumption first hand. Pilar, Elena, Dani, Abel and co. turned up as things
were in full swing. This is the last that I can remember of the night!
Apparently we were then taken to an Irish pub, much to Greg's pleasure. Then Ady
Lupton after spotting some of the Spanish folks doing penis impressions with
their fingers decided to show them some real British beef and although small in
size Ady's courage and bravado soon made up for it. I was told that all the UK
gang left this pub and went back home before 4AM. I then, as I discovered later,
had to be nearly carried home by Pilar, Elena and their friend, luckily for me!
At 4AM Carla, from the adjacent room, heard me roll in, banging and crashing and
waking everyone up and then my last words of the evening - apparently at the top
of my voice "God damn it, it's fucking dark in here" then bang, my
head was heard hitting the pillow and not a sound after...
The next day, after losing my stomach lining in a fight with the hotel toilet,
was spent down the beach, marvelling at the beautiful Spanish ladies, relaxing
for the first soul night that evening and checking out the town. Whilst checking
out the record shops, a shop assistant came up to Greg with a grin and said that
he should attend the all-nighters, Greg pointed out "Irish Greg" on
the flyer saying, "that's me, Ill be there". The assistant replied,
"Oh, we thought you were Paul Weller". Needless to say we pissed
ourselves much to Greg's shame!!! Then back to the hotel to meet Mick
"Chuck Norris" Smith who'd flown in that afternoon with the largest
and heaviest record box ever, Lynford Christie would have been proud of such a
package.
We were met that evening at the hotel by car (a regular courtesy) by Dani, Abel
and Rose who kindly drove us to a Tapas bar for beer and food before heading for
the venue. Great fun and where we first met Tony Smith, Jet and Derek Pearson.
Carla also ate a closed Mussel, more of that later...
Now the venue was a sore point as Dani and Pilar explained to me. A smaller
venue is used for the soul nights before moving on to the larger all-nighter
venue in previous years. This year however the organizers were told two days
before that the they could no longer have the all-nighter venue, so at the last
minute they managed to negotiate the smaller venue for both. A compromise in
size but as we soon found out didn't dampen the weekend.
The venue is probably a two hundred capacity with a smallish dancefloor but lots
of atmosphere and a great crowd. I thought the Capitol Soul Club had a young
crowd but the Spanish scene has an average age of about 21, lots of new blood.
It's not a light mimic of the British scene either; these soulies are truly
'into it' and full of enthusiasm - great to see.
Dani, Pilar, Abel and our own Ady Lupton provided the 45's. Cracking music all
night, which kept the 100ish punters well happy - the English contingent
included.
We left just before the end and in a fatherly way Ady and myself were told to be
quiet and not play our music as uncle Mick next door had gone early to get an
early night. Being the good children that we we're, we tip toed in and went
straight to bed after prayers. An hour later we heard an elephant charging down
the corridor waking up all of Valencia... Mick hadn't gone home, only gone for a
sleep under the stairs and the noisy bastard woke us up!
This morning was Carla's turn to loose her stomach lining, not realizing that
closed mussels could be eaten the same as closed pistachio nuts!!
Carla was left with a can of Coke and some Alka Seltzer while Greg, Mick, Ady
and myself spent the day sampling cold lager and hiding while Mick whistled at
an ugly prostitute who took a liking to his 'Chuck Norris' Moustache. I then
left the gents at about 5PM to meet Pilar who took me to a super market to buy
Chorizo and Red Bull - there is a God. Vodka and Redbull for me as usual then!
Then back to the hotel to collect Carla, who had made a miraculous recovery, and
to freshen up. Whilst messing around teaching Ady Karate, I managed to punch him
on in the nose and then I had to run. Being a small room Ady soon caught up with
me and jumped on top of me pretending to beat the shit out of me. He'd forgotten
to close the door and soon the women in the opposite room were looking through
the door thinking that a murder was being committed. They must have thought
'crazy English' as they were greeted by Ady sitting on top of me yelling
"who's the Daddy now, who's the Daddy?!!!"
We were then collected by Rose, who drove us to a snack bar to meet the others.
Larger and Tapas to line our stomachs and it was off again to the venue for the
all-nighter.
DJ for the night were Mick Smith, Irish Greg, Tony Smith and Derek 'even madder
than me' Pearson. This time the crowd was about 175 strong and the atmosphere
reflected this, such a buzz. Unlike in the UK, the Spanish all go at about 12
midnight for food, much to the panic of the UK DJs, not expecting this. By
1.30AM the place was filling up and the dancefloor was rammed.
The Capitol Soul Club badge that I wore was in demand, luckily the pocketful I
bought seemed do the job. One Spanish guy came up to me and asked me where he
could get one, I gave him one from my pocket (figuratively speaking) and asked
his name, he replied "Curtis Mayfield" - I pissed myself but he was
serious, well funny. A crazy dancing Elvis Costello look alike was spotted on
the dancefloor, the next thing Ady ran up to him grabbed him by the ears and
pulled his head down. Jet, Toni and myself thought that the guy was going to get
head butted but instead Ady gave him a big kiss on the lips, the poor bloke
didn't know what to think. At least he didn't have to share a bedroom!
The next morning was Greg's turn to loose his stomach lining, hygienically done
in the shower, his own words. Ady and myself woke up early, couldn't sleep.. And
managed to find a burger king for some wholesome nosh. It was on this journey
that it was first noticed that I was being stalked by a horse and cart, no joke.
For the rest of the weekend the bloody mare followed me, every corner we turned
there was the fucking cart!!! Only on the scooter run could the steed not keep
up.
Greg was confronted downstairs by hotel management and blamed for all the noise,
poor bloke, as it was Ady and myself!!! Breakfast in the only place that sold
bacon, egg and chips - it was here that we first realized that Mick was an Item
of interest, there were lots of middle aged men also sporting Chuck Norris
moustaches and they kept looking over at Mick and smiling naughtily, this was
happening all weekend, maybe Mick looks like a famous Spanish Porn star, we
never worked it out??
Then it was the scooter run and Paella banquet. We headed off to the record shop
and bar to meet all the Spanish crew and were soon joined by Derek, Jet and Toni
for some pre 'run' alcohol tasting. Two cars were provided and driven by Dani
and Rose so we could follow the scooters to the paella restaurant.
This meal is a feature from past years, which involves a drunken binge, paella
and the customary food fight; I was looking forward to it and was not
disappointed. Forty of us were seated on two long tables with the English at one
end, probably a good idea to keep all the lunatics in one place!
The meal involved lager, wine, champagne, lots of food and the best piss taking
ever experienced. Teasing Carla with mussels, telling stories and general
madness. The funniest toasts ever as well, started of with cheers and salute and
ending with Chuck Norris toasting "Charlton Athletic" and then being
physically restrained to prevent him toasting "Free Gibraltar", Ady
Toasting "Free Tibet" and my confusion - Dani translated a Spanish
toast which literally meant "Strength to your Penis", I miss heard him
and yelled out when the toast was called "Strapped to your Penis",
much to my embarrassment, now Kenny Burrell might have gotten away with it but..
Dessert came around and not being a sweet man gave mine to Derek (he claimed not
to know when his next meal was coming being Northern), however the waitresses
hadn't realized and soon five Gateaux's had been passed which Derek nearly
finished, gutsy bastard!
Then Tony was hit by a lump of bread. "Incoming" all hell broke out
and bits of Rabbit, Gateaux, and crusty rolls were impacting everywhere till
ammunition was out. Mick used his only Spanish words "La Quenta" (the
bill) and pointed at Ady, worried of paying, Ady climbed under the table and
crawled the whole length of the table in between the feet and emerged at the
other end and legged it. The next time he was seen was in a dog kennel out side?
Walking into chip shops with machine guns came into it somewhere too??
It was then back to the hotel; I was completely wasted and had gone for a siesta
in preparation for the final all-nighter. I was laying on my bed face down just
in my boxer shorts, Ady was standing over me wearing just his jeans and was
doing up his fly and Mick 'Chuck Norris' Smith was grinning inside the doorway
just in his 'briefs - Greg then
walked down the corridor, looked in and apparently shook his head and walked
straight out without saying anything!!!
I admit it must have looked bad.....!!
The final all-nighter really was the best, with the UK DJs playing alongside the
Spanish. This was a real party atmosphere similar in atmosphere to the Sunday
night at the Cleethorpes weekender, magic. Mick's two and a half hour set at the
end had the dancefloor by the balls, the best all weekend.
Ady started off the madness by borrowing from a barman a mad black Afro wig and
began caterpillaring along the dance floor much to the amusement of the locals.
The rest of night was pretty blurred but included Derek Pearson and Carla doing
a joint spin on the dancefloor and knocking a poor girl over without realising!
There was Derek and his pet fire extinguisher, Carla's sleep, the wig incident -
Ady, while Mick was DJing asked him to wear the wig, Mick answered jokingly
"Can't do it mate, the Spanish have paid to see an icon" Ady replied
"they've only ever seen you in the 'In Crowd' book so you had better wear
the wig after all"! Greg not realizing that I had been giving out Capitol
Soul Club badges was running up to all the Spanish wearing them, in amazement
pointing at their badge then his and shaking their hands. He commented that they
all looked at him blankly? It was only after he arrived at the hotel that he
realised he hadn't been wearing his but a similar sized Dennis the Menace badge,
how silly did he feel!? After encouragement from me Greg could be seen doing
backdrops on the sofa, the soft shite can't cope with the dancefloor anymore!
By the middle of the night the whole place was dancing even carpet space was at
a premium, I think I broke Jet's ankles because she dared to dangle them off her
sofa on to my bit of carpet - it was just so mad and quite an emotional ending
rounded off by Mick's two hour set.
Sunday was spent winding down and trying to stay awake, and meeting up with Dani,
Iu, and Pilar before retiring for an early night and seeing Mick off.
Greg, Carla, Ady and myself left on the Monday after a lazy afternoon and a
drink with Pilar. Then it was back to the rain in old blighty!
I would like to express my sincere thanks to the our Spanish hosts who looked
after us so well and made us feel really welcome - well done folks, a great
weekend, one that I'll be returning to.
Special thanks go out to Dani, Pilar & Iu, Abel & Rose, Elena and
Charlie all who made it a special weekend.
Thanks
Matt Jahans
many thanks to Matt for the use of this article
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