Off to Bulawayo

Back in time to the seventies once again, where I remember the "Trio" to end all Trios - Anton, Gary and myself.
Anton on Bass Guitar, Electric Guitar and Vocals; Gary on Drums, Percussion and Vocals; and myself on Keyboards, Electric Violin and Vocals.
We had rehearsed for about 3 months in the early hours of the morning at The Top of The Carlton Hotel Johannesburg, and we were now ready to take on the world...
The world at that time was of course the dreaded three month contract at some venue around South Africa or its neighbouring countries, with a possible option to stay on at the gig for a further three months.
There were so many venues in all the main cities and towns and so many different bands available - the competition was quite fierce.
So here we are; the "Trio" to end all Trios fully rehearsed with what we thought was a killer repertoire. We had some Emerson, Lake and Palmer; Uriah Heep; Deep Purple; The Peddlers etc.; a few pieces featuring my Electric Violin - this was going to stun the audiences.

We were of course an unknown band.
Some unknown bands were sent to what was then known as Rhodesia, and if the unknown bands did well in Rhodesia, there was a very good chance that they would be well received back home in South Africa.

As a musician with a fair amount of equipment, you were expected to have some means of transport to enable you to travel, with your equipment, to and from the various gigs.
Financial constraints, the inability to drive and naturally no driver's license prohibited me from purchasing any means of transport, and therefore I was totally reliant on other people to move the gear.
You will have guessed by now that our first gig was in Rhodesia in the town of Bulawayo.
The venue was called 'Las Vegas Club'.
Well, they sent a truck from Bulawayo to Johannesburg to collect us, and all our gear.
Gary had a Datsun 120Y (I think), and he drove ahead while we chugged along in this rather dilapidated old hulk.
Anton, myself and the driver were in the front seats and unbeknown to anybody except the driver, we had a passenger on board in the truck section.
We arrive, after I cannot remember how many hours of driving, at the border (Beitbridge), where they need to inspect the vehicle.
After checking the passports etc. of these long haired musicians, the customs folk inspect the truck.
We all go round to the back of the truck where the customs officials open the twin doors, and out stumbles some guy who we'd never set eyes on before!
'I need the bathroom' he mumbles and runs off in search of the loo!
This guy had been cooped up inside the dark confines of the back of the truck amongst all our gear for at least eight hours.
It transpired that he was a friend of the driver and needed a free trip to Bulawayo. That's when, in hindsight, we should have said turn around, we're going home.
The problem was that he had a British Passport that had expired almost 10 years previously and therefore couldn't travel across any borders legally. So in actual fact he was trying to smuggle across into Rhodesia with our unwitting help!
All I remember about him is that his name was Dennis, he had blond / brown curly hair, wore glasses, looked very disheveled and was so laid back about the turn of events. The fact that the customs people wouldn't let him through the border didn't seem to bother him.
I sometimes wonder how, and if, he ever made it back to Johannesburg.

We eventually arrived in Bulawayo at about 4pm. to be greeted by the club owner Bobby.
'Plans have changed' he said, 'you have to start tonight'.
The original plan was that we would arrive, unpack, sleep, set up the next day, do the sound check and start the following night.
Mad scramble to set up the gear etc. and start that night - that's how it was in those days...

To be continued...