It’s been a week since
tour finished. Today has been my first day with no plans since May 20th
and I’ve been tidying my flat. I never fully unpacked from any of the times I
was away, a camping chair still leans against my bookcases, there’s tickertape
everywhere, flower crowns seem to multiply and I’ve just stuck the last of the
tickets from Europe up on my ticket wall. Tears fill my eyes just writing this.
My tour began, like so
many people’s, on opening night, in Sheffield, on April 12th. Like
the tour before it, the first night was a bit meh, the boys nerves slightly apparent
and the Thatters trying to take it all in. The general consensus was good, we all
missed the Pray dance and there wasn’t enough chat but all overall it was a
great show. An agonising sixteen days later I finally saw my second show, and
then my third, in Dublin. Again, great, but no one in the seats stood and I couldn’t
even see the B Stage.
Then came London,
where I did all but the last show because I had to work. I lost my voice
entirely, which is super fun when you work in retail. The O2 is always a
favourite of mine, my adopted hometown, a great venue, getting to go home every
night, rather to a random hotel. It was during the O2 dates that I started to
notice the little tour quirks, the different suits, the little dance moves, the
same questions asked to the audience. By the time The O2 was over I’d done half
my shows. A particular highlight was when the king of Instagram during tour,
Mark, replying to my comment one night. I was in an Uber at the time and I think
I may have slightly terrified my driver.
A day off and a half
price ticket brought me to Birmingham for 7 hours. Bristol brought back the queues
and the pushiest crowd I’d ever known but we got barrier and I got interaction
off Mark and it was all worth it.
Liverpool came the
following week, a show I was a bit nervous about. The crowds had been pushy in
Bristol, surely they’d be worse in Liverpool? But after ending up with no one
to go with, I befriended people in the queue and then around me at barrier. No
one pushed, no one shoved, the atmosphere was incredible, the boys were so
happy, magic floated through the air on a soundwave. It was my favourite show
of the tour, without doubt.
When the boys
announced the tour last year and we soon found out it was going be mostly
seated, I decided to make the tour about something else. Usually, tour is about
barrier and clinging onto that front row for dear life because my god you have
put the work in. It’s about queuing (or camping which I have never done),
barrier runs, getting all the interaction you can and having the best time with
your mates around you.
This tour there was a
VIP option, more expensive tickets for a closer view. I decided that I’d rather
do more shows further away, than a few up close. And so came Europe. I was
going to follow the boys around Europe, not only seeing them but exploring a
bunch of cities at the same time. I talked about it so much, made plans and
lists. And it wasn’t until I was standing in the middle of Amsterdam that it
seemed real.
Paris I had been to
before, Brussels I had no expectations for. But I have always wanted to go to
Amsterdam and stood in the city centre, surrounded by canals and with bikes
shooting by, it all felt real.
Paris was the first
night of the European shows, it was my bestie’s first ever TT concert. I kept
grabbing her and screeching ‘Mark’s wearing a shiny suit!’ The minute Shine started-‘It’s
a different setlist, it’s a different setlist!’ shortly followed by ‘OH MY GOD
THEY’RE DOING THE PRAY DANCE’. It was a shorter show but it was intimate and
just them and it was wonderful.
The following night in
Brussels, we realised they were going to be wearing different outfits every
night and it became something I looked forward to each day. That night Mark politely
moaned about the bad lighting, even singing ‘Baby when the lights stay up’ during
Everlasting. It showed the vast contrast between the tightly tuned shows in
the UK and the smaller ones in Europe, as amazing as both shows were.
During the Amsterdam gig,
they were the chattiest I’ve ever seen them. The Europe dates were a gift of
flamboyant outfits and band banter and it gave much truth to those words we say
to so many people ‘No, not each show is the same, every single show is
different’. If I had a pound for every time someone asked if I got bored, or
was it not the same show, I’d have enough money to go to even more concerts.
Berlin was a
ridiculously hot tent, Howard in an eye patch and Mark in a sequinned red
ensemble. The more camp that man got the more I loved him.
After Berlin I was in
work for five days straight (going to work straight from the airport) and then
off to Vienna. The venue felt like a school hall, Howard ended up stage diving
and all I could picture was James and Paul freaking the fuck out. Mark liked my
Instagram whilst I was on the tram back and I got stared at by a load of Austrians
as tears rolled down my face, clutching my phone going ‘Oh my god, oh my god’
In Rome I ended up second
row, the day so hot, and with the boys in their Dolce and Gabanna. I felt so
aware during the whole gig that this was a pinnacle, that it was ending
tomorrow. That I was in Rome, in a tiny venue, within touching distance of the
boys, an actual dream while it’s happening. Then came the final night in
Zurich, I spent the entire gig crying. I haven’t really stopped since.
I miss the boys. I
miss the travelling. I miss the dad dancing. I miss Mark’s pink suit, Mark’s Elvis
leg, Mark’s manbun, Mark’s bandana, Mark’s crazy dancing, Mark’s little
speeches, Mark’s cowboy hat, Mark’s general existence. I miss the little dance
moves and moments between the boys, the fistbumps in Never Forget and Gary and
Mark jumping together during Get Ready for It. I miss them all sharing a mic
during Everlasting. I miss Everlasting. I miss doing the Never Forget arms. I
miss getting annoyed at how Lulu got the loudest cheers every single night. I
miss the motorbikes. I miss the trampolines. I miss the going crazy to Cry and crying at
Said It All. I miss the tickertape. I miss the mass singsongs and the arm
waving and the feeling so fucking happy in the moment.
Following a band
around on tour, or even going to more than one show, even just loving a band so
much you can hardly explain it, it’s a thing people don’t tend to get. I bet if
a man told someone they’d seen their favourite football team countless times no
one would bat an eyelid. Passion seems to fathom people, but it seems to fathom
them far more when it’s women supporting men putting on a concert, rather than
men supporting men kicking a ball around a field.
But here’s the thing,
it’s happiness. It’s as simple and as complicated as that. It’s friendship and
loyalty and joy and memories. This tour was special. You could see how much it
meant to the boys, how much fun they were having and how much they love each
other. Mark said in Zurich about Everlasting ‘It’s a song from us to you, but
also from you to us’ and it summed it all up.
These songs, these boys,
these friendships we’ve made, these memories we make mean so much to all of us,
the boys and the Thatters. And we’re all so aware of it, so grateful for it.
During this tour, I
saw Take That twenty times in thirteen different cities in nine different countries.
I walked around the Colosseum, took a canal tour through Amsterdam, saw the
Eiffel Tower light up at night, marvelled at the artwork on the Berlin wall, strolled
through palace grounds in Vienna, ate Belgian chocolate and fries, and paddled
in Lake Zurich. I took thousands of photos, ate a lot of chips(being vegetarian and dairy free in Paris is super
fun) and adventured with my friends, some of whom had never seen the boys
before. It was the tour of a lifetime.
These are the worst
post tour blues I’ve ever felt. This tour was two and a half months, the
longest in a while. From the Royal Albert Gig at the end of March until the
last show in Zurich on June 30th, the longest gap I had between
seeing Take That was sixteen days. And now they’re having a break. A well deserved
one, but it makes me so sad to not know when I’ll see Mark Owen’s face again.
And that a tour that I talked about for so long, that seemed to last forever
and yet fly by, is actually over.
Of course I realise
how lucky I am, to be able to have done as many shows as I did and to have gone
to so many places. I’ll look back on it soon and barely be able to believe it and
how good it was. It already feels like so long ago. Thatters and non Thatter
but I’m trying to convert friends, love you. Boys, love you and miss you. Until
next time, a hundred years, a million more, I’m by your side.
