Artmania Romania

I left to meet Glynn and got practically attacked by a horrible little dog. It chased me down the stairs and then tried to eat me. I was very shaken by the experience, bearing a general dislike for even the most placid of dogs.

We got the train to Sibiu and before we even arrived at the festival encountered numerous George lookalikes, with his trademark crazy long black hair and beard. One was even dancin g around with a big bunch of flowers and leaning right out of the train while we zoomed along waving them and shouting. When we did arrive at the festival, the George trend became utterly ridiculous and slightly creepy in its consistency.

We set up camp and taxied back to the square, entering the festival to receive a 'Sibiu, european capital city of culture 2007' flag.

My realisation that this was in fact more of a metal festival struck home when i noticed the hordes of black clad makeuped long haired bearded goths and metallers wandering round with pink ice cream. My first experience of the music was a loud Romanian heavy metal group whose performance seemed to be mostly based on shouting 'motherf*cker' and abusing 'mr president motherf*cker'. At this point i wondered what i'd let myself in for.

I became more relaxed when Romanian group 'Cargo' came on, in fact i really enjoyed them. A bit more old fashioned rock.

The next group came on, whose lead singer we took to be an old woman until halfway through the set when a close up on the screen showed distinctive facial hair.

Talking of old women, this sweet old biddy was wandering round the square quite bewildered as the heavy music pounded out and ominous looking people of every age crowded the streets. Goodness knows how she got past security.

The main band that first evening was 'Anathema', who all looked like the singer from simply red and turned out to be from liverpool. They were ok, pretty cheesy easy listening. We even saw them wandering through the streets the next day, greeting fans, obviously loving the attention. I would've said hello but for my distaste for the adoring fan act, not because they were particularly good but because they are fellow englishmen.

I have eaten a disgusting amount of pastries and pizza. I long for Monica and Razvan's cooking.

We met up with Christi, 'the sweet archaeologist'. He was more annoying than sweet, constantly provoking awkwardness by trying to matchmake me and Glynn. We left him and sat with some random Romanians who bought us a beer and turned out to be rather hilarious. Here is an example. As i didn't learn their names, they can be called Cutie, Drunkie and Vlad.

Cutie- "the only english he knows is f*ck"

Drunkie- nods.

Cutie- "he's pretty stupid."

Drunkie- "Here, here!"

Cutie- "England is better than Romania"

Drunkie- "No, romania is better. English beer is..."

Vlad- "Piss."

Drunkie- "No... horse piss"

So the music that night was pretty funky. Tarot were these sweet old scandinavian men with huuuge long beards and hair who introduced songs as: "and here's another depressing song about suicide" and were really quite cheery. The Gathering were like a metal Avril Lavigne.

One of that night's highlights for much of the crowd was (another English band i'd never heard of), My Dying Bride. They were pretty shit but i was mesmerised by the singer's stage persona, the character he'd created. It was all tormented soul; the phantom, the hunchback, frankenstein's monster. His black hair couldn't have been greasier, it hung in rat tails in front of his anguished face that was constantly creased in a frown of sheer pain. He looked a bit like satan. He also spent a few songs on his knees wringing his hands, or writhing about on the floor.

In between songs he would thank the audience in a very ordinary english pampered private schoolboy voice betraying nothing of his inner torment. What a brave soul.

Lastly played Within Temptation. They were actually pretty good, a lot like Evanescence and therefore reminded me a lot of my cousin Paula. The stage was well set up with some stone griffiths against a fantasy novel backdrop and burning torches around the stage. The lights were really atmospheric and they put on a good show. However, the singer suffered somewhat from resembling more a member of Abba than a gothic icon.

The problem with this festival is that you have to occupy yourself until 5 or 6 pm when the music starts. Sibiu being the cultural capital of europe, you wouldn't think this would be too hard. The real problem is all the nice expensive restaurants with tables outside that beckon you with their scheming hot chocolate/cold beer/french fry/cakey bedroom eyes.

On a wander round on sunday, attempting to avoid the cake and find the culture, we happened upon some kind of adrenalin fest with men on motorbikes, crazy ramps, and some kind of father and son quadbike event with tiny boys sat helmeted in front of beefy men on the huge four wheeled beasty machines. The museums are closed but this is almost as good.

Sunday's music began with a band so amatuerish they're not really worth mentioning. It continued in a bad vein with 'Vita de Vie', something like Ricky Martin trying to do Offspring.

However, for me the highlight of the entire festival was the next band 'After Forever'. Their female frontwoman WAS the gothic idol, in a Catherine Zita Jones kind of way, with an extremely operatic voice that didn't make her look sissy as she sexily air guitared and headbanged in her lacey corset top and black jeans. She introduced songs in a rolling booming ringkeeper voice, rallying the crowds. They played heavy rock, but obviously influenced by a lot of dramatic classical music. Really good show.

The headlining act were 'Iris', some sweet old rockers who were obviously a bit past the whole performing routine but they've been going for so many years that their loyal fans don't care. It seemed that for the Romanian audience, it waws a bit like seeing The Who live. It started to piss down but the adoring crowd went right on moshing.