We were all looking forward to it. On Friday at a practice our lady singer lost her voice. About two days before that Jeremy had broken his collar bone in a bike accident so couldn’t play on the spoons- we were glad that he could at least sing. On Monday I went down with a streaming cold and a splitting headache. Two weeks before Beltane we received orders from the manager of C Club in Americka Street in Pilsen that we must play at his gaff. We tried to postpone it, but he was having none of it.
We had to leave for Nesovice in two cars at 1 in the afternoon and a third at 3. We had big trouble trying to get the cars together. The Avia which we’d been relying on had clapped out and the technical state of the band’s cars in the last 14 days was in serious question as to the prospects of a longish journey. Eventually Neige found a fellow Frenchman down in Písek. Our flautist, Evička found us another car (her bloke’s), and my car arrived back from the garage just in time. Nevertheless, I didn’t like the strange sound emanating from the left rear wheel on right bends. They hadn’t done anything to the wheel, but for seven grand they’d completely changed the brakes, which up until then had caused me absolutely no problems. I got to Otik’s at quarter to two and we waited about half an hour for the latecomers. I was looking forward to seeing a French harpist who was due on at about 3 or 4. The others were looking forward to various other bands, too. On the phone I discovered that the 2 bands I wanted to meet weren’t even coming. I’d built a harp for one of them and was hoping to present it to them. I stuffed my harp into the car and managed to crack the windscreen. I’ve now got a very pretty glass spider there. We eventually left at 2. We picked up a hitch-hiker at a petrol station near the turn-off for Prague. We’d gone about 50 metres when the engine conked out. Our guest got out and returned to his pitch and we started to stroke our beards over our open bonnet. I’d always worried that if I took my car to the garage, I’d be always going back there – was I right? Eventually after a few unsuccessful resuscitation attempts we called the service man. He turned up in less than an hour. Meanwhile our hitcher has disappeared. Repair man cleans the plugs for 300 crowns and lo! the motor starts. We discover, however that Jakub has forgotten his guitar. So off we got to his flat in nearby Doubravka and – the motor dies a death. With knowing looks we open the bonnet and clean off the plugs- to no avail.
I want to bend the contacts a bit to improve the connection so, inserting a screwdriver- I break the entire plug. Repair man is back within 20 minutes. He’s starting to become familiar with this machine, as he’d repaired the starter on Saturday. Giving it the once-over, declares he needs to go and buy a replacement part- this about 5 o’clock. It costs 130 crowns. In the meantime Evička calls from the third party which should have left at 3. At least we’ve got mobiles. “Are you on the way? We’re off to the service centre.” “What’s up?” We reply. “Our engine’s up the creek again.” Evička mournfully declares, “Our windows won’t close. They’re electric.”
(This, fortunately, can’t happen to mine) Repairs take an hour and cost 10,000 crowns. Our repair man returns and finds that not enough petrol is getting into the carburettor. We pay him 450 crowns and our accordionist goes off to borrow his mother-in-law’s car. He’s back before 6. Move all our baggage to our new car , manage not to break the windscreen this time, buy a new motorway stamp and eventually leave. The accordionist drives and is in a foul mood. The third team, who actually left after us are now about an hour ahead of us. We get to Nesovice about midnight. I’ve already long given up hope of seeing my harpist. The programme, however, is so far behind that I still have an hour to wait for him.
Because of the aforementioned delay in the running order,we were obliged to reduce our hour long set to a mere 30 minutes. We played, the sun came up and after a wander and some breakfast we set off on the return journey to be back in Pilsen in time for our concert that evening at the C Club. I won’t bother with further assorted personal tales of strife and woe. Get back to Pilsen about noon. After 5 hours sleep we head off for the concert. At 8 we start to play for one girl who was tending the pumps in case anybody came. And surprise, surprise, at half nine two punters actually show up. So we drag on until 11 jamming and messing around and then wend our weary way home. So, I don’t know if I’m looking forward to another Beltane or not…
Jirka Vysata
From a letter to our friend David Ružička