QUEEN OF THE STONE AGE

I never miss Glasto. From the comfort of my sofa, bien sur. I am too old to go sloshing about in mud and using portaloos. But if I was 20 again .... the rock festival phenomenon has become big business. Festivalsearcher.com lists no less than 164 rock & pop festivals across Europe alone. 164!! Since camping declined in popularity as a holiday activity, it's thanks to people like Michael Eavis that Millett's is still in business. And of course, occurring as it does on the summer solstice, it gives the Druids, new age travellers and other Friends of Scrumpy a chance for an early-morning get-together. There is an annual revival of interest in ley lines, burial barrows, megalithic stones etc.

Lines of megalithic stones just outside Carnac. How did they get here?

Here's one theory ......

Our cousins across the water have loads more megalithic stones than we do. Stonehenge may be a unique perfectly-preserved circle, but Brittany is riddled with "menhirs" "dolmens" and other ancient architecture. Rock is an ancient concept, even older than the Rolling Stones. (laughter track)

The French may have Asterix and Obelix, but the Americans invented Fred Flintstone, who I think is the quintessential stone age man. I found his house on my travels in Brittany earlier this year:

Compare and contrast: uncanny, no?

I am returning to Brittany next week, to the north side this time. And staying in proper hotels, not a plastic hoose. So I'll see you in a fortnight. And as of now, I'm on holiday for two weeks. Yabbadabbadoo!

HOW TO FALL ON YOUR SWORD

In Brussels you can watch about 400 TV channels on standard cable TV, from virtually every country in Europe and beyond. From my cable TV provider I get 7 BBC channels, 6 German channels, all 3 French terrestrial channels, all the Belgian channels in both languages, Netherlands, Luxembourg, Spain, Italy, Portugal, Greece, Poland, Turkey, Morocco and Al Djazeera. And I can assure you that there is NOTHING interesting on a Saturday night on ANY of them. Many countries still favour the Saturday night variety show. Mums and dads, grans and grandads from Lyon to Ljubljana sit on their Ikea sofas and switch their brains off to watch juggling dogs, escapologists, plate spinners and all manner of olde-worlde entertainment. It's like the court of miracles.




The French have a particular penchant for circus acts that got left behind in the aftermath of the Cirque du Soleil, and the annual Monte Carlo Circus Festival in the presence of their royal chavnesses of Monaco is always guaranteed high ratings.

Nice trackies, Your Serene Highness (she's the one in the middle btw)

Around October (beer festival season) the Germans like to broadcast Bavarian variety shows, with everyone dressed up in tracht, lots of beerkeller orchestras and singing of songs like "Jawohl, jawohl, ich liebe Alkohol".

The Beastie Boys' take on Der Untergang

The KNOB* has tried several times to get on German TV, however they're suspicious of our Brussels connections and think we're a bit too wacky and unpredictable, all because we once dressed up as characters from 'Allo 'Allo. We would have got away with it if it hadn't turned up as 3 Herr Flicks, 2 General von Klinckerhoffens and a Helga (me). Belgian TV didn't go for it either, strangely.



However, having access to European television is a good means to spy on what UK and American celebs are doing to earn a living off-season. Rock 'n' roll stars would not like their home public to know about the sort of naff gigs they do to pay the rent on the mock tudor mansion and the stays at the rehab clinic. Secrecy is the new celebrity. Wikileaks, phone hacking, no wonder they're all taking out super injunctions. Your Europe correspondent considers it her duty, in the spirit of Julian Assange, to let you know who has sold out.


The other night I was idly flipping channels and happened upon a concert broadcast from the Plaza de Toros in Palma, Mallorca. It was a German show called "Wetten, dass?" - a cross between You Bet! and Jools Holland. This show is not to be sniffed at: it is reputedly the most popular Saturday-night TV variety show in Europe. A German porn star type male introduced acts to an audience of well disciplined German tourists, who clapped along obediently, with not so much as a hint of rhythm. It was a far cry from Glastonbury, I can tell you, with portly Germans in their brand new T-shirts standing to attention and clapping in time uncertainly, waiting for the order to stop from the middle-aged bleached blond host. In between celebrity songsters, members of the public peform bizarre stunts, and the audience bet on whether they will succeed or fail.

Such big names as Joss Stone, Jeff Beck, Coldplay, Take That, Kiss, Whitney Houston, Katy Perry, Michael Jackson, Madonna, Jennifer Lopez, Lionel Ritchie, Bryan Adams, Shakira, Britney Spears, Elton John, Joe Cocker, Lady Gaga, Pavarotti, Celine Dion, Christina Aguilera, Mariah Carey, Leona Lewis, David Bowie, Cher and Tina Turner have graced the screens of this German Saturday night variety show on channel ZDF.

At least the Germans pay well. When musicians are reduced to playing Eastern Europe they're usually on their last pair of leather trousers. Daphneleaks witnessed Boney M officially burying their career in Warsaw Old Town Square on the eve of the Millennium. Joe Cocker, Jethro Tull, Yes, Jeff Beck, Santana have toured Poland, that's usually a sign that their careers are really over. I would have advised Barack Obama against it, but he didn't ask me. Perhaps he's going to reveal a Polish ancestor too.

My channel-hopping revealed a tragic back story. Last December one of the stunts on Wetten, dass? went horribly wrong. The victim of the live stunt, 23 year old Samuel Koch, is now a quadriplegic. It is not disclosed whether audience bets on the result were honoured. As a direct result of this accident the host and porn-star lookalike Thomas Gottschalk decided to quit the show, played out on his last live broadcast from Mallorca a few weeks ago by Status Quo, his favourite band, and accompanied by famous (in Germany) footballers, actors and other slebs.

As I clapped along obediently with all the German tourists, I realized I was witnessing the very last broadcast of a long-standing popular favourite. It was like witnessing a supernova, by the time you see it it's already too late. (Yes, I've been watching Wonders of the Universe, but this is neither the time nor the place to share with you my thoughts about Brian Cox.) Or more appositely, the time I discovered a great little band called Wham! (at their farewell concert).

What other national media institution could count on a galaxy of stars from the world of sport, film and television to give it a rousing send-off on its very last appearance? Answers on a postcard, please, to News International, 1 Pennington Street, Wapping, London E98 1ST .......






* Kurt Nachtnebel Oompah Band

TRAVELISTA

As I get older, travel becomes more of a chore. I don't enjoy long-haul flights, and after a week or so away I usually want to come home. Which kind of puts the mockers on Australia. Airports are such a bore. Security, luggage restrictions, waiting around .... and that's before you've even got on the plane. Unless you can get where you're going on a decent carrier, it's cattle class all the way. I always manage to get either a screaming baby right behind, or a big fat bloke right in front who puts his seat back as soon as he sits down, allowing me about six inches of space between my face and the back of his seat. Hardly room to open out my copy of How to Spend It. A sinus condition means that I need to get half a dozen Nurofen down me two hours before landing or else I get off the plane looking like Munck's "The Scream". For the same reason I do not drink alcohol while flying, and the food is usually inedible, if you get any at all.

Arrivals lounge

If you don't fly, and don't own a car, your options are considerably reduced. I am developing an expensive habit of pranging hire cars, and really only the train is a suitable and safe mode of perambulation. For me and everyone else. Luckily, from Brussels you can take a train and be in London, Paris, Amsterdam or Cologne within a couple of hours.

The best thing about Brussels

Then there's the accommodation. I need a degree of comfort these days, my own bathroom and to be able to lock my door and have some me-time. I recently experimented with one of the so-called four-star campsites in France, but frankly, no. The walls were thin, the nights were cold, and the caravans (or "mobil'omes" as the French inexplicably call them, as they are up on bricks and far from mobile) were much too close together. McChe summed it up: "It's a plastic hoose, the noo!". Four stars nothing.

Trailer park trash

I'm afraid I'm getting to the stage in my life when only a four or five star hotel will do, whatever the cost. I don't need a swimming pool - unless I have exclusive use of it - and I'm not bothered about a spa or a fitness centre, but I do require a spacious bathroom, a good breakfast buffet, air conditioning and room to swing a cat.

Swinging cat

Then there are the destinations. I have seen most of Europe. I have seen the East and West coasts of the USA, Las Vegas and New Mexico, and that will probably see me through to the end of my days. Do I need to see Missouri? I don't think so. I have many relatives in Australia but am put off by the distance and the fact that of the ten most deadly species of animal on the planet, nine of them live in Australia (my family not included). My cousin Bonzer should know, he recently got bitten on the foot by an Eastern brown snake and nearly died. Luckily there was a kangaroo nearby who understood English and fetched an ambulance.

Don't just stand there Skip!

I don't enjoy great heat, great humidity or mosquitoes, who, perversely, love me. I have a delicate Hibernian complexion and burn in the sun. I did a couple of stints in West Africa with Harold, and I would rather stick hatpins in my eyes than return there. I have a soft spot for North Africa - Morocco, particularly - and may well consider a winter break in a riad. You can keep the rest of the Arab world, including Dubai, which looks like Las Vegas with minarets. A large part of the planet is taken up by Russia, which does not grab me in the least. India is not worth the trouble either - full of flies and disease and poverty, and you can get the music, culture and food by visiting Leicester or Birmingham, or watching an episode of EastEnders.

Birmingham, home of the balti

Which leaves the Far East. Now there's somewhere I wouldn't mind visiting, if I could withstand the long-haul flight. Not Japan -- I must agree with a friend of mine who once said watching a Japanese film was like watching people from Mars. But China fascinates me. Echoes of decadent Shanghai in the 1920's, the Tiger Lilies in their cheong-sams, and the food is to die for. I could eat my way round Hong Kong. Moving south, Thailand, Cambodia and particularly Vietnam are even more tempting.


I grew up with the Vietnam War. The names Da Nang, Hue, Saigon, Khe Sanh, My Lai, Ho Chi Minh, Marshal Ky, Le Duc Tho, and General Giap were tripping off my tongue by age 15. My parents were still banging on about the Second World War which had been over for 25 years, but this was my generation's war, the first rock 'n' roll war. Helicopters, jungles, napalm, Grosvenor Square 1969 - why the hell were we Brits protesting? We weren't even there. I remember watching on telly the last helicopter picking somebody off the roof of the US Embassy in Saigon hours before the Viet Cong rolled victoriously into the city. At 18 I could have passed an A-level on the Vietnam War. In the aftermath I lapped up every book and film about it: William Shawcross's "Sideshow", Michael Herr's "Despatches", "Apocalypse Now", "The Deer Hunter", "Full Metal Jacket", "Band of Brothers", you name it, I couldn't get enough of 'Nam.




Later, in Paris. I discovered the delights of Vietnamese cuisine and learnt about the pre-war history of the country, Dien Bien Phu and all that. Other wars came and went: the Falklands, Lebanon, Bosnia, Somalia, Afghanistan, Iraq .... but none of them had the sheer rock 'n' rollness of Vietnam. Later, I heard Vietnam had abandoned a centralized economy and was thriving again, even opening up to tourism. I have been looking at photographs and have been seduced by the beauty of the place. It's like watching a derelict garden come back to life. If I have to sit on a plane for 14 hours, a boat trip on Ha Long Bay could make me feel better quite quickly.