Musical Monday at Mojo

It's the last day of Bluesfest.  How did that happen?  It seems only yesterday we were hopping aboard our first bus ride to Tyagarah Tea Tree Farm for opening night with Kendrick Lamar and the hip-hop crew.  It was suddenly Easter Monday and the end was only eight hours away.  But what an eight hours.

First up ~ a solo Taj Mahal!  Any festival that includes Taj is way ahead immediately.  Bluesfest labels itself Australia's Premier Blues & Roots Music Festival and if anyone is both Blues and Roots, it is Taj Mahal.  To quote the Byron Shire Echo he was "famous for nearly singlehandedly reshaping the definition and scope of the blues, via the infusion of exotic sounds from the Caribbean, Africa and South Pacific" and had been performing for over 50 years!  As to his performance, you couldn't help but be mesmerised by his presence as he sang and growled his way through "Fishing Blues" and Sonny Boy Williamson's "Checking Up On My Baby".  A quick tuning and a tip of his cowboy hat and off into another great story.  As James remarked, his current fave Mac DeMarco has obviously been heavily influenced by Taj.  Imitation is the greatest form of flattery and it appears his influence resonates to this day.

OMG!  The infatuation is now full-blown.  Alabama sextet St Paul and The Broken Bones are on their first visit to Australia capturing the soul of Otis Redding, and have captured us.  Presenting a set of blue-eyed soul, their live shows during Bluesfest have been incredible.  Friday, Saturday and now Monday, the buzz has been "Have You seen St Paul and The Broken Bones?."  Great songs from their debut album Half The City interspersed by some incredible covers including Sam Cooke's "Shake" and Otis' "I've Been Lovin' You (Too Long)".

What a band ~ a fantastic horn section supporting the rhythm section led by the unlikely but charismatic Paul Janeway, who has been described as everything from an IT geek with Otis voice to a plump accountant with a shoe fetish.  Today's performance went beyond the earlier shows where Paul gyrated, throwing his suit jacket and shoes over, at and into his drummer.  Half way through the evening show, he gingerly eased himself down off the stage all the while yelling for more and more microphone lead.  Surely he's not going to get down into that!  Without missing a beat or any reduction in power and passion, his progress through the adoring crowd was lit by a posse of phones, his bejewelled shoes sinking into the stinking black morass of Jambalaya.  Fantastic!  Upon completion, he re-emerged onto the stage his cheeks and fingers smeared with gunk.  This is a man of the people, unafraid of getting down and dirty!

"We need another beer", said James.  "I'll be back soon".  Bad move.  St Paul's cover of the Beatles "She's so Heavy" had finished by the time James returned.  I hadn't seen James so downcast since Saturday night when we heard The Raiders had blown the home game against The Titans.  "I love their version of that song."  Please come back St Paul.

Clutching my beer and catching my breath, I left James and headed down the midway to the Juke Joint where Scotland's Shooglenifty were making their final appearance.  What the...?  Have I fallen down a Hobbit hole and emerged at Canberra's National Folk Festival?; for a rag-tag bunch of performers were playing a heady stew of music that had the good size crowd reeling.  Described in the free Official Program as originators of "Acid Croft", a fiery and infectious blend of celtic traditional music and dance grooves, their potent brand of fun was hitting the spot.  It would appear my solitary immobile stance (not counting toe tapping) was just not on, for a rather attractive 30 something slid her arm about me and implored me to dance.  Yes, Mam!  Who doesn't love Bluesfest .

The long and winding road

The Pacific Highway.  Where to start this Odyssey?  In our case, at the Ewingsdale junction ~ the scene of many bus trips to Bluesfest this past week.

Relax, enjoy the journey, look at the lush vegetation.  You've got all afternoon and Port Macquarie is not too far down the coast.  Half an hour into the trip we encounter our first patch of roadwork near Wardell.  80 Ahead......  60.......  40.......  Where are the roadworks?.  Well, there's a bloke in a fluro vest over there draining the sump of a council truck.  60......  80.......  End of roadwork.  "Look there,  there's dual-lanes up ahead."  "The 80kph limit should finish soon."  Nope!  For the next 30 minutes we drove at 80kph on a modern NSW dual lane highway until the next bit of road-work just past Woodburn.  Slow down, Roadworks ~ Speed Limits Will Be Enforced.  60........ 40.........

It appears the NSW Minister for Transport got a load of speed signs for Christmas and boy! Was he going to share that gift with us.  Frequent signs notified drivers that Speed-T-Cams were Managing Speed and Fatigue.  Now that's just overkill!.  Minister Duncan Gay's festive gift has responsible road use under control.  80.......  60.......  40.........

"I'm getting hungry and tired, let's stop at Grafton, maybe pubs are still serving a late lunch."  It's remarkable how memories of difficult traffic conditions come flooding back once confronted by them.  "Shit!, There's that terrible roundabout in South Grafton that we sat at 2 years ago".  A quick U-turn and we were back at the T-Junction with the Pacific Highway we had gingerly coped with a minute before.  Vehicles came and went from left and right.  Minutes passed.  Finally a gap appeared ~ Coff's Harbour, here we come.

"Urunga welcomes careful drivers."  Turn right for the town centre.  The Pacific Highway was chokers through Coff's and not even the offer of "Authentic Tapas" at initially the Toreador, and then at the Matador motels could entice us from the highway of destiny.  What's another 30 kilometres at this stage.  Urunga was an oasis with the town centre accessed by a secondary road that lead under a bridge, up a hill and around the bend.  We parked the car in a fifteen minute limit space and walked towards the enticing sign "Fish and Chips".  Closed.  The cafe next door was in a similar state of preparedness, and I was only cheered by a fluro clad tradie wrapping his laughing gear around a juicy burger.  We walked along the street towards a posse of school kids bunched about a shop entrance.  Inside an old farmer in moleskins and an Akubra was ordering a coffee.  "....and could you put a piece of chocolate in it like last time please Doris."  "Sure love, I know what you like."  "What's that? You know I don't hear too well anymore."  " One coffee with chocolate coming up".  Doris yelled.  "Righto, thanks.  I'll be outside."

"What will you folks have then?".  "One snapper and chips, and one flathead and chips please."  "Oh, and I will have a Solo and Kim will have a Schweppes lemon, lime and bitters thanks."  "I'll just go and get the car and bring it up here, I don't want to get booked."  Was that a faint chuckle from Doris?
"Have you travelled far yet?"  "Yes, We have just been to the Byron Bay Bluesfest and are headed for Port."  "Oh well, that's not too far now.  I heard you had a bit of rain."  "Yes, lucky I took my gumboots, my son found them very useful."  Chuckle.  Following Doris' directions towards the facilities and lakeside park, we hopped in the car and did a U-ie.  If Urunga needs a new mayor, I know just the person.

Parked opposite the beautifully presented Ocean View Hotel est 1927, we took our food down to a shaded picnic table located next to the camping ground.  Top shelf tents replete with banks of solar panels were parked just near sparkling 4 wheel drives sporting fishing rods.  Another bunch of kids nearby were doing their best to scare away any fish they were attempting to catch.  An increasing flock of Ibis were greedily circling our table.  Yum!  I'll bet Doris comes from a long line of fish and chip shop operators.  My flathead was delicious!.