Saturday, October 04, 2025

Sons Of Selina - Jam Tomorrow (Foundation)

Sons Of Selina - Jam Tomorrow
Asimov has a lot to answer for...!
This is the Hidden track on 'Fire In The Hole' album - released 1999 on Delerium Records (re-issued 2010 on Cherry Red).
Song lyrics are based around Isaac Asimov's Foundation universe - which has been adapted into a series on Apple TV. 
Check out the series, read the books, buy the music!

Myself and Robin had become truly bookwormed in Isaac Asmiov's Foundation - we probably read the books at least three times - and there were a lot of books (particularly enjoyed the Robot series). 
Sons Of Selina's lyrical content didn't follow any path or agenda - we wrote whatever popped up at the time. Asimov's books were a particular influence and this song, plus Terminus, Kalgan and Climb were based on the Foundation universe (others ranged from social politics to utter nonsense!).
Incidentally, in all the 18 novels there's no mention of any of the characters being stung £100 for parking slightly over a white line outside The Range - things like this really boil my piss. Things like this should bring Empires down - The parking company responsible for the car park outside The Range in Bangor, Gwynedd, is UK Parking Control Ltd (UKPC) - or CUNTS for short. Absolute muggers, charlatans and definitely No.1 on my hitlist when the revolution comes.

(Anyway, back to my non-reality...) I've just binge watched series one of AppleTV's take on Foundation - hence I put their trailer to our music - I like the angle they have taken, without losing the fabric of the original story. Looking forward to watching series two (probably in three sessions!).

Oh, BTW - Just had my bi-annual statement from Cherry Red Records - a whopping £21 - I'll send you a postcard.


Monday, September 29, 2025

Show #191 - Neil Crud On Louder Than War Radio

 

First things first – apologies for the croaky voice this week. Two Spam Javelin gigs across the weekend left my throat sounding like sandpaper dragged over barbed wire. But the show must go on – and if anything, a but of Barry White only adds lurve to the hour.

This week’s playlist unfolded like a fever dream set in the 1990s. We started in the shadow of the past with Baltimore Gun Club – 1993, stumbled into Slutever – 1994, and found ourselves tangled up in Wobbly Hearts – 1995. A time capsule of angst, distortion, magic mushrooms and the need to find that someone you love..

From there, things turned darker. Prey reminded us we’re all just an Obedient Dog in someone else’s world, while Bite Back surveyed the mess around us and called it what it is – a Crazy World.

But resistance is always at hand. 77 SPEARS spat defiance with The Only Person You’re Fooling Is Yourself, and Stuntface barked out the reminder that Life Is Loud (fuckin' love that song). That energy roared on into Scotch Funeral’s tidal surge Sŵn Y Môr and Thumbsucker’s fragile yet fierce Imperfect Organism.

The middle of the show hit with a mix of swagger and menace: Viva Kinevils – Rocktober swaggered into October File – Crawl, while Two Tonne Machete slammed down the traps and Mitraille – Road Rage floored the accelerator. Somewhere in the chaos, Class whispered their own quiet truth – Too Scared To Care.

Flowers wilted under the lo-fi distortion of Soup Activists – Typical Flowers, while Mouser tore the whole thing down with their scathing To Hell With The New Nazis (courtesy of Dammit Records).

By then, it was time for some twisted philosophy. Future Of The Left chimed in with the unforgettable You Need Satan More Than He Needs You, and Awkland – Internecine pulled us further into the gloom with their internecine warfare of sound. Finally, Gintis closed the show with their gloriously titled Philosophical Transactions Of A Disappointed Physicist – the sound of resignation wrapped in melody and science beautifully set to song. And it's 21 today! (Wow!)

The Playlist – Show 191

  • Baltimore Gun Club – 1993

  • Slutever – 1994

  • Wobbly Hearts – 1995

  • Prey – Obedient Dog

  • Bite Back – Crazy World

  • 77 SPEARS – The Only Person You’re Fooling Is Yourself

  • Stuntface – Life Is Loud

  • Scotch Funeral – Sŵn Y Môr

  • Thumbsucker – Imperfect Organism

  • Viva Kinevils – Rocktober

  • October File – Crawl

  • Two Tonne Machete – Trap

  • Mitraille – Road Rage

  • Class – Too Scared To Care

  • Soup Activists – Typical Flowers

  • Mouser – To Hell With The New Nazis

  • Future Of The Left – You Need Satan More Than He Needs You

  • Awkland – Internecine

  • Gintis – Philosophical Transactions Of A Disappointed Physicist

Thursday, September 11, 2025

Thailand Day 2


Jet lagged and running on very little sleep, we dragged ourselves out of bed and checked out of the hotel at noon. The Bangkok smog and heat hit us immediately — 28°C with heavy humidity — but that was part of the city’s charm (so I've been told).

Declan spent a month in this country last year, and he text and suggested we head to Banglamphu Market, so we set off on foot. Not long into our walk, we were approached by the inevitable tuk-tuk driver. With a big smile and the usual line — “Hello my friend, where are you from?” — he tried to strike up a deal. We knew his game but decided to play along when he suggested visiting a Buddhist temple.


Once inside the souped up tuk-tuk, the script continued. Another man appeared at the temple, pretending he was on his way to his daughter’s wedding. He chatted away about how suits in Bangkok were the best in the world, made for Armani, and how we could get great deals if we wanted. Tim saw him for who he was right away and cut him off; me, I thought he was just being chatty. It was classic theatre — entertaining in its own way, but definitely a hustle.

The driver then tried steering us towards a Clothes shop, we politely, but steadfastly refused. Then on to the so-called Tourist Information Centre, a well-worn trick designed to funnel tourists into overpriced tours and shops. Recognising the scam, we again politely refused to play along and instead paid him a modest 50 baht for the ride.

Later, Tim suggested something far more authentic: watching a Muay Thai boxing tournament. Earlier in the day we had passed the arena, so it felt like fate. We bought tickets (not cheap), found a nearby hotel, and headed to the fight.


The atmosphere was electric. The drums, the chants, the raw energy of the crowd — it was an unforgettable experience. The tournament was brutal, beautiful, mesmerising and absolutely exhilarating. We left the arena drunk and exhausted but buzzing. (Beer was £5 a pint - VERY expensive for Thailand).

I realised I had booked the wrong hotel, it was a good half an hour walk away. And walk we did! That's no bother - it was simply fate that the mistaken booking was situated on Khaosan Road - the world-famous, vibrant, and bustling street, widely known as the "Backpacker Capital of the World." Though it is only a short street, it is the epicenter of budget travel, offering a unique blend of nightlife, shopping, and a distinct, carefree international atmosphere.


We checked in, stashed our passport in the celing in the bathroom (no safe in the room) and then continued our quest to drink silly amounts of beer (now £1.95 a pint), eat street food, watch music, watch people of all creeds, colours, sexes, and species and soak up the absolutely mental atmosphere. Before we knew it the night had gone and it was daylight!


Wednesday, September 10, 2025

Thailand Day 1


Mally kindly took me to the Llandudno Junction at 6:15 a.m. in return for borrowing my car for the week. I met Tim, and together we took the train to Manchester Airport. By noon, we were on our flight to Mumbai.

The flight was long, though I managed to sleep quite a bit, albeit intermittently. I couldn’t help feeling self-conscious about my smelly trainers tucked underneath the seat in front of me, but I decided they deserved one last hurrah—they’ve served me well, and besides, it was a long flight.

Our plane landed about an hour late, leaving us roughly ninety minutes to make our transfer. Unfortunately, the Indian immigration process was a nightmare. The officials seemed to have absolutely no clue how to do their jobs, and had we not pushed and cajoled our way to the front of the queue, I fear we’d still be standing there today.

We just managed to catch our onward flight to Bangkok, and thankfully immigration there was far more efficient—automated and straightforward. After clearing it, we negotiated our way onto the train and randomly picked an area to explore.

That decision dropped us in a more residential part of town. We wandered through people’s backyards and along narrow alleyways, edging past an open sewer. Not the most picturesque welcome. At that point, I’d had enough. We flagged down a taxi, haggled with the driver, and ended up dropped right in the middle of Bangkok’s city centre, not quite where we intended when we used the description 'nightlife' to him.

Welcome to Bangkok! This was the swankier part of town, a world away from the alleys we had just trudged through. We finally walked into a proper hotel, booked ourselves a room for about £25, and, in need of a beer, headed out into the night. The area is considered very high-end and is sometimes described as Bangkok's "Ginza." It features luxury condos, high-end hotels, and sophisticated shopping precincts, so 'a pub' was gonna be pretty hard to find. 


Thankfully, I had downloaded the Saily eSim, which is an absolute must for travellers. Google told us The Beer Republic was a short walk away. By Thai standards, a pint of Leffe wasn't cheap - £3 - Ha ha, look at me, almost complaining about paying a mere £3 for a delicious pint of Leffe Blond!! It was so nice that Tim and I ordered it a further five times along with some incredible local cuisine. All the while The Chocolate Cosmos played their indie covers to aid digestion (particularly enjoyed The Cure's Boys Don't Cry). Drunk, we headed back to the hotel having not slept properly for 36 hours.
The Chocolate Cosmos

Monday, September 08, 2025

Show #188 - Neil Crud On Louder Than War Radio

 

Some shows take on a life of their own, and this week’s felt like one big, noisy story unraveling through the speakers.

It began with TV Face, reminding us to Get What We’re Given – a timely mantra when the world insists on throwing curveballs. From there, old-school Teesside hardcore crew Dogsflesh marched in lockstep with their March Of The Damned, dragging us into darker territory where nothing is promised and everything is contested.

The Unknowns might have Lost Me, but that’s half the fun of radio – you’re not supposed to know exactly where you’re going, particularly when you lose your shownotes. By the time Vast Slug crawled in with the brilliantly titled I Look Forward To Reading All About Myself In Your Suicide Note, things had already become beautifully unhinged.

The brutality continued with Times of Desperation, who left us Skinned Alive, and The Skive, who dragged us back to reality with the rough-and-ready supermarket bargain bin brilliance of Bargain. Just when you thought you could breathe, Son Capsun was up there, a Sniper On The Roof Of Tesco, aiming barbs at the mundanity of suburban life.

The middle of the set went global. AM checked in to ask Co tam słychać?, before PESD prowled like Hieny and Polish punk legends Armia growled To Moja Zemsta. It felt like a whole Eastern Bloc uprising pressed into three quick punches.

Hearing Tests reminded us what it’s like to face down a Bully, then Derwyddon Dr Gonzo gave us a surreal ska detour with Chaviach. By the time Mr Huw took us through Ein Budreddi (our filth, our grime), my heart was sufficiently warmed and throbbing.

Punitive Damage then baptised us in flames with Baptism Of Fire, which felt like the perfect lead-in to Schkeuditzer Kreuz, who demanded we Keep Dancing even as the walls shook and the floor melted beneath our feet.

The endgame came thick and fast: Takers & Users served up Bombscare, Exaust ripped open an Open Wound, and GURT rolled in with the sludgy stomp of Sludge Puppies. And to sign it all off? J Pump & The Bulldozers flattened the night beautifully with No.1 Auto.

What a ride.


The Playlist – Show 188

  • TV Face – Get What We’re Given

  • Dogsflesh – March Of The Damned

  • The Unknowns – Lost Me

  • Vast Slug – I Look Forward To Reading All About Myself In Your Suicide Note

  • Times of Desperation – Skinned Alive

  • The Skive – Bargain

  • Son Capsun – Sniper On The Roof Of Tesco

  • AM – Co tam słychać?

  • PESD – Hieny

  • Armia – To Moja Zemsta

  • Hearing Tests – Bully

  • Derwyddon Dr Gonzo – Chaviach

  • Mr Huw – Ein Budreddi

  • Punitive Damage – Baptism Of Fire

  • Schkeuditzer Kreuz – Keep Dancing

  • Takers & Users – Bombscare

  • Exaust – Open Wound

  • GURT – Sludge Puppies

  • J Pump & The Bulldozers – No.1 Auto


Next week I’ll be away travelling, so Martin from Noises From The Bottom Left Corner will be stepping in for me. He’s got impeccable taste and a knack for spinning chaos into gold, so tune in and give him your ears. I’ll be back the week after, hopefully in one piece.

Saturday, September 06, 2025

Live gigs live sheet


This is my personal archive of the live sets I’ve seen over the years – pieced together from memory and old diaries. Some gigs were life-changing, some epiphanic, many unforgettable… and a few I’d probably rather not remember. But every single one has left its mark – not least in the form of my raging tinnitus.

For many of these shows (though not all), you can find reviews over on the link2wales site.

First gig I ever saw were The Jam, supported by The Vapors at Deeside Leisure Centre in 1979

The list itself lives in a constantly updated spreadsheet – every time I log another band I’ve seen, it grows.

Dive in, explore, enjoy – and maybe you’ll spot a few you were at too.

Neil Crud - Bands Seen


Monday, September 01, 2025

Show #187 - Swamp Fest & Louder Than War Radio (01.09.25)

  

Steve Steve Steve of White Ether, harnessing that feedback

Still recovering from the weekend when I hit the airwaves for this one. At the time, drinking all that Abbot Ale felt like the best idea in the world… but come Sunday, my head begged to differ and I spent a lot of the day in the recovery position.

Little Swamp Fest 2025

Saturday was all about Little Swamp Fest, a hidden gem of a festival tucked away in rural Ynys Môn. It’s not your average event – it’s private, run by friends, for friends, with bands made up of (you guessed it) friends. I’ve been going six or seven years now, and it never fails to deliver.

This year was meant to be extra special on a personal level, as my own band Spam Javelin was finally set to make our debut. Our host Nick has been pestering us to play for years, and at last the stars aligned… until the gods of misfortune intervened. Our drummer Llion pulled his back on the eve of the gig. Drummers, eh? Love ’em or hate ’em, you can’t play without ’em. Well, unless you have a few Abbot Ales in you and someone hands you a Strat.


So yes, I was coaxed into doing four or five Spam Javelin songs solo on Bryce Amps’ gorgeous Fender Strat and amp – and you know what? It was a nervous blast and a bit rubbish ha ha.

As for the rest of the day: Spears took us on a spaced-out trip and I enjoyed the blues of Serious Bizness and the fun of Black Sheep, while White Ether were the real knockout. Their extended set was spot-on, particularly enjoyed their newer material, and honestly, a debut album from them is long overdue. Once again, Little Swamp Fest proved to be the perfect collision of music, mates, and merriment. Here’s to 2026!

OK... on with the show -
With the weekend’s excesses still lingering, I fired up this week’s show with a dose of grit: Sleaford Mods’ Tweet Tweet Tweet. Hard to believe it’s ten plus years old already. The track raged against right-wing nonsense back then, and here we are in 2025, with even more of it to shout about. Some things never change, apart from roundabouts (apparently).

Also marking anniversaries was Wendykurk – 22 years since they released their one and only album Soft Meat. That band used to scare the living shit out of me (in the best possible way), and it was a thrill to dust them off again.

Big thanks, as always, to Garry Davies for digging up fresh treasures. His contributions are a backbone of the show, and this week he unearthed Potato Skins’ hilarious Diet Squad. That in turn gave me the excuse to blast Riot Squad’s Speed Cameras – perfect pairing. Garry also supplied Hearing Test’s sweaty sludge-punk energy and Grail Guard’s fiery Coventry hardcore.

Other highlights

  • Scotch Funeral – Sacrifice My Teeth kept their Ever & Ever momentum alive.

  • White Ether – All Things Must Change got a well-deserved nod after their Little Swamp Fest triumph.

  • Hearing Tests – Mob Rule, London post-hardcore at its noisy, dissonant best.

  • Tragedy – Enter The Void, Portland hardcore bruisers from their LP 'Fury'.

  • A scattering of global chaos: Fight The BearPESDGerinc – all firing on full cylinders.

  • Smarts – Golden Arches, lifted from their album Who Needs Smarts, Anyway?.

  • More Kreuz carnage: Schkeuditzer Kreuz – Trips & Trepidations, proving Swan Grinder is still shaking the rafters.

  • Split System – It Ain’t You (Live in Stockholm) kept the Aussie machine rolling and what about that TV Face track!!

  • Pete Bentham & The Dinner Ladies – Is There Life in Rhyl. The title says it all.

  • And finally, the grind onslaught: Internal Rot – Muted Destiny, from their blistering new split with Mutilated Cop (just out on Nerve Altar – go grab it on 7” or digital). I only managed to squeeze about 30secs in, but will play more next week.

The Playlist – Show 187

  • Sleaford Mods – Tweet Tweet Tweet

  • Antisect – Black

  • PESD – Co tam słychać

  • Fight The Bear – Sleazy Joe

  • Gerinc – Fogságban

  • Scotch Funeral – Sacrifice My Teeth

  • White Ether – All Things Must Change

  • Hearing Tests – Mob Rule

  • Grail Guard – Our Streets

  • Potato Skins – Diet Squad

  • Riot Squad – Speed Cameras

  • Wendykurk – Chain Of Daisies

  • Tragedy – Enter The Void

  • CoVid 21 – Everythings Fucked

  • Smarts – Golden Arches

  • Schkeuditzer Kreuz – Trips & Trepidations

  • Split System – It Ain’t You (Live in Stockholm)

  • TV Face - Boots, Pocket, Coffin

  • Pete Bentham & The Dinner Ladies – Is There Life In Rhyl

  • Internal Rot – Muted Destiny

Monday, August 25, 2025

Show #186 - Louder Than War Radio (25.08.25)

 

I hate it when Liverpool are on Monday Night Football. Matches never finish on time anymore, and full-time seems to creep closer and closer to my show’s 10pm kick-off. Last night against Newcastle was a prime example: constant stoppages, niggling fouls, and the Geordies trying to blend cage fighting into their tactics. By the time I was playing the opening songs, the game was still going.

And then, it happened. In the 100th minute, 16-year-old Rio Ngumoha smashed in the winner for Liverpool. Our youngest ever goalscorer, and only the second 16-year-old in Premier League history to bag a winning goal (after Wayne Rooney). I was leaping around the living room like a teenager who’d just scored it himself. Safe to say, the adrenaline was pumping so hard that it took me a good 20 minutes into the show to settle down – so apologies if I sounded a little jittery. Just like Liverpool, I suppose.

The show kicked off with something rare and a little special: a mash-up from Swansea’s Head In The Shed, who many years back spliced Rage Against The Machine with Colwyn Bay’s Global Parasite. As far as I know, this mix is unavailable online, so you could call it a Crud exclusive – even if it’s a decade or so late! Oh, and happy birthday to Dave Global Parasite Cox.

With England still wrapped up in flag-waving nationalism and road painting, it felt apt to follow that with Mouthparts’ biting Flag Shagger and Anhrefn’s classic Swings a Rowndabouts. Context, people.

From there the set hurtled into old favourites and new bruisers alike: Crass with Rival Tribal Revel Rebel, Yung Rare declaring This Machine Kills Fascists, and CoVid 21 ramping things up with War Whores. Laced between those were gems like Gentleman Jesse’s garage-soaked I Don’t Wanna Know (Where You Been Tonight) and the blistering energy of AKU (Phase Me Out) and Father Stone (The Entertainer).

I’ve been talking up the new Schkeuditzer Kreuz record Swan Grinder recently (check out my review on Louder Than War), and it was great to get Keep Dancing blasting on the airwaves. Dark, dystopian, industrial-punk – one of the year’s strongest underground releases. Also in the spotlight: Scotch Funeral’s latest Ever & Ever (which I reviewed last week), and the new, sadly posthumous Eye Licker album And Now The End Is Here

Later on came a mix of international collaborations and local genius – from Mr Phormula’s bilingual Cymru i India, to the blistering satire of Joe & The Shitboys (Manspredator), and brutal heaviness from Mastiff and the pure comedy yet very clever Rabo De Toro sending up Russ Abbots' Atmosphere.

As always, most of what I play can be found on Bandcamp. So go on – buy the records, support the bands, and if they’re playing anywhere near you, get out and see them. That’s what keeps this whole scene alive.


Playlist – Show 186

  • Global Parasite Vs Rage Against The Machine – Head In The Shed Remix

  • Mouthparts – Flag Shagger

  • Anhrefn – Swings a Rowndabouts

  • Crass – Rival Tribal Revel Rebel

  • Yung Rare – This Machine Kills Fascists

  • CoVid 21 – War Whores

  • Gentleman Jesse – I Don’t Wanna Know (Where You Been Tonight)

  • AKU – Phase Me Out

  • Father Stone – The Entertainer

  • Save Your Breath – Modern Slavery Institution

  • Topper – Newid Er Mwyn Newid

  • WAR//PLAGUE – Sacrifice

  • Schkeuditzer Kreuz – Keep Dancing

  • Mr Phormula – Cymru i India

  • Joe & The Shitboys – Manspredator

  • Eye Licker – Gag Reflex

  • Scotch Funeral – Never See Me Again

  • AM – Co tam słychać?

  • Mastiff – A Story Behind Every Light

  • Rabo De Toro – Atmosphere

Monday, August 18, 2025

Show #185 - Louder Than War Radio (18.08.25)


Back in the hot seat after a week away roaming the continent, I returned to Louder Than War Radio with another full-throttle set of tunes for Show 185. Big thanks go to Wyn, who held the fort in my absence with a cracking show of his own – if you missed it, go back and give it a listen. He’ll be back later in the year to cover for me again, as will Noises From The Bottom Left Corner (who you can usually catch on Louder Than War every Saturday at 4pm). Plenty of able deputies lining up behind me – all these people jockeying for position, eh?

It was a thrill to give Lancaster’s very own TV Face an early spin ahead of their upcoming album. The track Boots Pocket Coffin is as curious as its title – which, incidentally, sounds like a What3Words location. (I did wonder whether one actually exists – and yes, there is indeed a location tagged boots.pocket.coffin in the system! Somewhere in China, as it happens).

Another highlight was Sŵn Y Môr from Scotch Funeral, lifted from their brand-new album Ever & Ever, which is out now on vinyl. The band launched it last Saturday at Rascals in Bangor to a buzzing crowd. Keep your ears to the ground – they’re lining up a Wrexham date with Eitha Da very soon, which promises to be unmissable.

One record I’ve been absolutely loving is the new single from IrkedThe Hardest Man In Billingham. It comes backed with two remarkable covers, which was almost too much temptation for me not to play in full. In the end, I restrained myself and gave the originals a spin instead – Dan Sartain’s Fuck Friday and SuperCharger’s Sooprize Package for Mr. Mineo. Both great tracks in their own right, but I’ll say it here: Irked’s versions are even better. Track them down and you’ll see what I mean.

To round things off, I couldn’t resist giving in to temptation one more time – this time with Pavel Chekov’s stunning Negative Progress EP. Five tracks in five minutes, the whole thing aired back-to-back. Urgent, short, and beautiful – the perfect way to close a show.

See you all next week for Show 186 – but in the meantime, here’s the playlist for this week’s broadcast:


Playlist – Show 185

  • TV Face – Boots Pocket Coffin
    Penny Coffin – March To The Grave
    Scotch Funeral – Sŵn Y Môr
    Spiteful Void – The Corpse of Hope
    Osees – God’s Guts
    Sweetpool – No One Believes Anything Anymore
    Rotunda – I Refuse
    Rotura – Al Otro Lado
    Bowandarrow91 – Surge Of Chaos
    Julius Seizure – I Don’t Get It
    HIATUS – End Is Near
    Mwstard – Scandal Broth
    Irked – The Hardest Man In Billingham
    Dan Sartain – Fuck Friday
    SuperCharger – Sooprize Package for Mr. Mineo
    Mr Phormula – Penill a Paris
    Big Jesse – Dave’s Song
    The Crash Mats – Kirk
    Pavel Chekov – Expropriate 
    Pavel Chekov – Reductionist
    Pavel Chekov – Social Imperialist
    Pavel Chekov – Left Capitalist
    Pavel Chekov – Deteriorate

Saturday, August 16, 2025

7 Countries 7 Days: Luxembourg, Belgium

 

Thursday 14th August 2015 – Luxembourg → Liège

Ahh, air-con. Sometimes it’s the little luxuries that make all the difference. Our room at the Ibis Budget in Parc Bouillon, Luxembourg, may have been stripped down to the bare bones, but at least it had that glorious hum of cold air pushing back against the heatwave outside. The only catch? The place isn’t exactly central — a fair trek to the heart of the city.

Still, we were up and out early, walking twenty minutes into Battembourg for what turned out to be a pretty unsavoury breakfast. But honestly, life’s too short to obsess over the finer details of nutrition. You can Google your way into neurosis, or you can just eat what’s in front of you and accept that one way or another, we’re all going the same way.

From there, the real gift of Luxembourg kicked in: free public transport. Free. Imagine that in the UK! I’d live on buses. (I did read that the Welsh government has introduced £1 travel for 16-21-year-olds — which is something — but still, Luxembourg is in another league.) We hopped on a bus into the city and spent a few hours mooching around in the rising heat.



One of the day’s highlights was stumbling across the Pétrusse Skatepark, sunk into a deep valley with a colossal flyover soaring above. It looked as if someone had air-lifted the Menai Bridge and dropped it into the middle of the city. A little further along, we found a boarded-up church carved into the rockface. Its iron doors were locked, but peering inside we could just make out a surreal video projection of flowers and bees looping on the wall, paired with a spacey soundtrack. Either that, or we had ingested hallucinogens and they were kicking in... (see here)

By midday the sun was merciless, so we retreated to the station in search of shelter on a train. The first departure was for Troisvierges, which sounded promising until we arrived and found… absolutely nothing. Not to be beaten, we boarded another train to Liège. Switzerland might let you ride free once in a while, but once in Belgium they have an exclusive gender: Ticket Inspector, so I coughed up the £30 fare without hesitation.


Just when we thought we were making good time, the day unravelled. Engineering works threw us onto a replacement bus service that crawled through the Belgian countryside. Pretty though the scenery was, the vehicle itself was an oven on wheels, hotter even than the buses I’d sweated through in New Delhi. By the time we finally reached Liège we were medium-to-well-done and into the evening, so any chance of exploring the city today was lost.

At least our apartment in the Walburge neighbourhood was welcoming. After a short taxi ride from the gleaming, space-age train station, we arrived at this homely little flat. Food and beer rounded off the evening. No sightseeing, no late-night wanderings, but after a day of unsavoury breakfasts, surreal churches, and oven-hot buses, home comforts were exactly what we needed.

Wednesday, August 13, 2025

7 Countries 7 Days: Switzerland, France, Luxembourg

 

Tuesday, 12th August 2015 – Zurich → Basel → Strasbourg

I woke up aching today, the arch of my right foot screaming at me with every step. Fine, I thought — I’ll just use the left one instead. We left our rickety old digs in Zurich early and headed for breakfast. By now, we’d settled into a routine: croissant, yoghurt, banana, and fruit juice from the Coop supermarket. We carried it down to the lakeside and spent an hour eating among ducks, gulls, and a couple of aggressive swans.

I’ve got history with angry Swiss swans — a few years back one nearly had me while I was swimming in Lake Geneva — so I kept a wary eye on these two as they hissed their way across the water. Charlie, unfazed, happily munched through his breakfast.

Afterwards, Charlie took over navigation duties, guiding us up the river (five bridges in total) to the station. By 9:30 am the heat was already oppressive. My lack of exercise over the past three weeks was catching up with me; I was flagging badly, muttering curses with each step.

At the station, we jumped on the first train we saw — bound for Basel. Tickets? None. And, remarkably, nobody checked. In a way it felt like poetic justice, a tiny victory against a country where £1.50 just to have a piss is considered normal. No wonder half the shop doorways smell like urinals. And while I’m on the subject of Swiss annoyances — their bloody different plug sockets! At least my super battery pack saved us more than once, otherwise we’d have been stranded with dead phones in a land of eye-watering prices.


From Basel, we quickly decided that Switzerland had drained enough of our wallets and aimed for Strasbourg, France. The French, however, have their own ways of punishing travellers — buying a train ticket onboard costs a premium. So I did the sensible thing and booked online while standing on the platform: £57 for two tickets. Win some, lose more.

By the time we reached Strasbourg, the sun was in full force — 33°C and climbing. Charlie, naturally, asked for another McDonald’s lunch. Nothing says cultural immersion like two Big Macs in two days, but I caved.

Determined to at least walk off some of the shame, I insisted we trek the two miles to our hotel, Hotel Esplanade, in the university quarter. Our route followed the River Ill (yes, that really is its name), crossing over the Rhine before we reached the hotel. By 2 pm we were checked in — I managed it entirely in French, which felt like a small triumph, or an arc de triomphe, if you like.

The room wasn’t much cooler than the outside, but at least it offered a break from the direct sun. We did the classic traveller’s trick of washing our clothes in the shower and hanging them on the windowsill to dry. After a short rest, we braved the heat again and set off into the city for the evening. Strasbourg didn’t disappoint — stunning architecture, buzzing streets, and a warm summer atmosphere that pulled us along.

By the time we stumbled back, our step counter read 17,000 steps for the second day in a row. My right foot wasn’t impressed. Neither was the left, by then.


Wednesday, 13th August 2015 – Strasbourg → Metz → Luxembourg

One thing’s for sure: with all this walking in relentless heat, getting to sleep is never a problem. France is in the grip of a mega heatwave right now, and by the time my head hits the pillow each night, I’m gone. But today I was awake at 6, roused by the buzz of the city outside our Strasbourg hotel. With a couple of quiet hours to kill, I sat plotting our route home for the weekend.

Hindsight is a cruel teacher. Really, I should have booked a return flight from wherever we ended up, then just worked our way there. Instead, this “make it up as we go along” approach has cost a fair few quid. The UK train alone was almost £100 return, and the flight home? A painful £200 from Brussels for the two of us. Handing that much money to Ryanair for a one-hour flight makes my teeth itch — but then again, it was only £15 each to fly out here to Memmingen. Swings and roundabouts, as they say. Or in this case: sixes and seven hundreds.

We checked out of our hotel with a cheerful “au revoir”, then strolled through the bright morning sun to Parc de l’Étoile, where we grabbed a café noir and croissant. The waitress was the spitting image of the French temptress from Fawlty Towers who fancied Basil. A surreal déjà vu moment over breakfast.

From there, we caught a Flixbus to Metz, rattling along in the midday heat. When we arrived, it was 34°C and sweating. Our onward bus was due at 3:30 pm — except, of course, it wasn’t. A delay pushed it to 5:10, giving us a couple of unexpected hours to wander Metz. Turned out to be a gift: the city is gorgeous, with its jaw-dropping cathedral towering over everything. I even risked stepping inside, and to my surprise I wasn’t struck down immediately.


Lunch was from Aldi (cheap, cheerful, effective), washed down with a couple of beers before heading back to the coach park. That’s when the real trouble started. Our bus never came. After an hour of waiting, some Russian kids broke the bad news: there’d been a glitch in the Flixbus app, and the bus had actually left at 4:43. Brilliant. The next one wasn’t until 8:10 pm — from a different stop 10 km north of the city.

Tickets for the bus: £5. The Uber to actually reach the new stop: £25. You can bet Flixbus will be hearing from me when I get home.

By the time we rolled into Luxembourg, night had fallen. I ended up booking another taxi — £32 this time — to get us to our hotel in Livange, a small town south of the city. We’d saved money by booking an Ibis Budget, but by the time I’d added up the taxi fares, I might as well have stayed in central Luxembourg.

Still, for all its stripped-down, bare-bones vibe, our room did at least come with air conditioning. In this heatwave, that felt like five-star luxury.

Sunday, August 10, 2025

7 Countries 7 Days: Germany, Austria, Liechtenstein, Switzerland

 

Memmingen

Saturday, 9th August 2015 – Bangor to Bavaria

This whole adventure started with a bit of an experiment: no fixed itinerary, no plans, just see what happens. The idea was simple — make it up as we go along. Memmingen, our first destination, was chosen almost at random via the Ryanair “Take Me Anywhere” app. Honestly, I had never even heard of it either. That was part of the fun — drop yourself somewhere new, figure it out, and see what happens. To add to the challenge, I also decided I’d try to speak as little English as possible with the locals and communicate in their native language.

The day began at Bangor train station, where groups of girls in sparkly tops were clearly gathering for a big Saturday out in Chester, and, quite nice to see, not a filled lip or false eyelash in sight. Meanwhile, Charlie (age 12) and I had our own plans. Frustratingly, the train fare to Manchester Airport cost more than the flight to Germany, which says everything you need to know about the state of UK rail travel. Our trains aren’t run for passengers — just companies bleeding us dry.

By the time our Ryanair flight landed in Memmingen at 10:30 pm, the heat still clung to the air. Since I had Charlie with me, I had booked us a room at the airport hostel, a no-frills spot right on the grounds. If I’d been on my own, I probably would’ve just wandered into town, grabbed whatever bed I could find, and then found a bar (not necessarily in that order). But with a twelve-year-old in tow, practicality won.


Sunday, 10th August 2015 – Memmingen to Lindau

Morning came, and with it our first surprise: Memmingen on a Sunday is like a Tesco sushi bar — so quiet it’s practically in a coma. No shops open, no supermarkets open, no nothing. Religion still rules here in deepest Bavaria, and Sundays feel like Christmas Day or Easter Sunday back home. Honestly, it’s not a bad thing… unless you need to buy suncream in 30°C searing heat.

We did eventually stumble across a coffee shop, where we broke a 14-hour fast with some bread piled high with cheese, tomato, and sauerkraut. Continental, tasty, and predictably overpriced. Our table companions were less than ideal — a squadron of persistent wasps that buzzed around like self-appointed guardians. They would, as it turned out, follow us almost everywhere.

The town itself was pleasant but sleepy, so after a play in the local park, we decided to shake things up. Our original plan this morning had been to grab a night bus to Strasbourg or Stuttgart, but then we spotted a train and thought: “Why not?” That became the theme of this trip — leap first, plan later.

Lindau

The train rolled through Swiss-lookalike landscapes: clean, pristine, a log-chopper’s paradise. Eventually, we found ourselves in Lindau, a small jewel on the shores of Lake Constance (Bodensee). It was beautiful — and expensive. The lake shimmered in the heat, and we couldn’t resist diving in for a swim. Floating in those cool alpine waters with the mountains in the distance was life affirming


Dornbirn
Dornbirn, Austria – A Different World

With the cheapest accommodation in Lindau starting above £100 it was decided to take another short hop via train (didn't buy a ticket), which took us over the border into Austria. In Dornbirn, we grabbed a salad bar dinner from the local Coop supermarket and ate it in the company of the local drunks who had claimed the station benches as their own. (Every town has them — I’m still trying to work out the collective noun. A stumble of drunks? A blur? A cheer?)

Our digs for the night was an Airbnb apartment on the 4th floor. A family home, run by Walter (Austrian) and Alexandria (Peruvian). They turned out to be the kind of hosts who remind me why I travel this way in the first place. Friendly, curious, and generous, they gave us a little window into their lives — the sort of cultural exchange you’ll never find in a hotel.

Our room was basic but comfortable with an alpine view, though the fan struggled to push the hot air around enough to keep us cool. Still, after the long, sun-soaked day, it didn’t take much for Charlie and me to drift into sleep, knowing the adventure was just beginning.

Three Countries Before Lunch

Monday, 11th August 2015 – Dornbirn → Liechtenstein → Switzerland → Zurich

We rolled out of bed around 9 am after a warm night in Dornbirn. A quick morning chat with our host Walter, then out into the already-blazing heat of Austria. Breakfast was our now-standard travel combo: croissant, yoghurt, banana, and fruit juice from the local supermarket. We perched ourselves on a pavement and ate as the Austrian world bustled quietly around us. Simple food, but it did the job.

From Dornbirn, we caught a [free] train to Feldkirch, and from there hopped onto a free [as in, we didn't buy a ticket] bus that wound its way into Schaan, Liechtenstein. What to say about Liechtenstein? If Memmingen had been sleepy yesterday, Schaan had taken a sedative. The place was hot, quiet, almost too neat for its own good. But it was stunningly beautiful — surrounded on three sides by the Alps, every corner framed like a work of art. We had a coffee in a small café, used the toilets (a bold move for which I’ll spare the details), and then wandered the empty streets for a while.

Schaan

Another bus (£3) later and we were in Buchs, Switzerland — just ten minutes over the border. That made it three countries before lunch. This little corner of Europe doesn’t do cheap, though. At Charlie’s request we ventured into McDonald’s. Normally I avoid the golden arches like the plague, but credit where it’s due: the curried veg burger was actually tasty — far better than the cardboard patties they serve in the UK. Still, £27 for two meals left me wondering if we’d accidentally ordered gold-plated fries.

From there, we boarded a train bound for Zurich. It wasn’t cheap either (£51), but what a ride. The train trundled along the southern edge of Lake Zurich, where holidaymakers were making summer memories on the water while the mountains rose dramatically behind them. It was one of those “wow” journeys that reminds you why you put up with the blistering heat, the expense, and the constant legwork.

Zurich 

Zurich itself turned out to be just as impressive. The city has a real wow factor, with elegant architecture, rivers, and green parks. We had about five hours to explore and soaked up as much as possible. Even stopped off at The Nelson pub for a beer (me) and a coke (Charlie) — though £15 for two drinks did sting a little.

Our accommodation was an Airbnb in the Seefeld area, north of the lake. An elderly man named Patrick greeted us on behalf of our host, he's a Swiss choirmaster who also doubled as a church organist. Patrick showed us around the house, which turned out to be the oldest in Seefeld — full of character, every floorboard creaking as if it had a story to tell. He asked if I liked music, and I resisted the urge to mention that I once wrote a song called Paedo Death Church. Probably for the best.

Patrick also suggested that if we cancelled the booking online and paid him £55 in cash, it would be cheaper. But it meant a trek to a cash machine in the sweltering heat, and with 17,000 steps already on the clock and a sore arch in my foot (plantar fasciitis? must look that up), I opted to leave things as they were. This, at the point of exhaustion was the most sensible choice.

By the time evening came, Charlie and I were wiped out. My friend Wyn was covering my Monday night Louder Than War radio show, but we didn’t make it to air time. Sleep claimed us before the first track. We’ll catch up tomorrow.

Three countries, 17,000 steps, blistering heat, and one creaky old Swiss house. Not a bad Monday.