Tickets were booked months ago and they’ve been burning a hole in my pocket since the day they landed on the doormat. The Sound-Expo took place at the Olympia in London. The music technology industry holds these expos all over the world and once a year it takes place in the UK. I’d never been to one of these events before and I was hoping that it wasn’t going to disappoint. After all, I was getting a train at 6am and coming back the same night – it’d be an awful lot of travelling for nothing.

Well I wasn’t disappointed! Fuck me – there was amazing new toys everywhere! I nearly had to change my underwear in the excitement. Stuff I’d looked at longingly on the internet was all set up there, and you were allowed to play with the lot. I could easily blow a lot of money I didn’t have on things I couldn’t afford. Still – there’s nowt wrong with a bit of window shopping.

I am cursed with transport in London. Even when I travel well in advance, something always goes horrendously wrong. I missed my train by about 20 seconds due to parts of the underground being closed. Bad news when you’ve bought an el cheapo ticket. It was either pay a £50 excess or find another way back. I was gutted.

There was no more transport home for me that night so I had to ring mates to find somewhere to stay and get the coach back in the morning. Seeing as I was spending the night in the Smoke, I thought I’d stretch to a night out. 

I ended up going to Area for a funky house night. It made a pleasant change to the same old clubs in Manchester. I had the most random encounter while I was there. I was chatting to this bloke with a French accent who was well into his music. After about half an hour, I clicked who he was. We both nearly spat out our drinks with laughter when we realised we had a load of friends in common. Karim is a hard house DJ/Producer who knows all my mates. Small world, innit?

Just had a phonecall from my mum to relay a bit of information from my Uncle Peter who lives in sunny North Carolina, USA. He and his wife want to go on holiday for a month and are looking for someone to come and stay at their house to mind their two girls while they are away.

They’ve asked me! I think they’ll cover my flights and some cash while I’m there – what more could I ask for?! Well… seems I get their Jeep, too. :O)

I’ve not seen Peter in years and have NEVER been to the States full stop. This could be an interesting summer. It might open a few doors for me. Though it might be considered a little un-patriotic, I’m getting a little tired of England, these days.

It’ll take me a few days to recover fully from all the fun we had but it was worth every brain- and liver-cell that I mercilessly slew.

Initially, it was just Malinks, Ben and I who were going to jump the Megabus down (£25 quid return – bargain!) but plans change at the last minute. Ben decided he had better things to do and, instead, my two friends Tom and Paul came along. And I’m so glad they did. )

Paul and I went to Crash together on the Friday and spent the night at Karl’s (Malink’s bro, who lives near Tower Bridge).

Saturday was Wildchild @ SE One, a hard dance event at one of the country’s largest purpose built clubs. It was absolutely rammed, almost to the point of being uncomfortable. In the end, Paul and I left early to go to Turnmills to do Trade. As we were early, we walked rather than take a cab. I don’t think the Londoners quite new how to take us. They’re not used to having scals in their city. People crossed the road to avoid us.

We met Tom and his mates at a dodgy little garage outside the club so we could buy cheap tickets.

One thing about London that gets on your nerves is that you are constantly bombarded with people (usually not british) trying to get you to buy something. Railcards, taxis, drugs – you get harassed non-stop.

Trade is a proper head-fuck. I went once about five years ago and was left a little confused as to whether I’d enjoyed myself or not. Turnmills is a bit of an odd-ball as far as clubs go. As you enter, it’s like going into a time capsule. You start off in an olde worlde London pub before decending a spiral staircase into a veritable maze of corridors and dancefloors, the whole layout designed to confuse you and play with your head. Partitions will open and close, re-arranging, and revealing new parts of the club as the night goes on. The music was amazing, the people were bizarre (Think the Rocky Horror Show on acid) and the experience… unrepeatable.

Paul and I fled early (aparently just as the club was getting good!) in order to preserve our sanity. At least it allowed us to eat and get some rest before our coach trip home.

In all, I feel I enjoyed the change in scene. Though it has left me with a new-found appreciation for Manchester. I made some great new friends, and there was one in particular whom I hope could become more than just a mate.