In August 2005, Blue Meridian embarked on an 18 date tour of the United Kingdom.
The following is the "Tour Story" written by singer Donovan Lyman, giving a colorful blow by
blow peek into what it's like to be a member of a band on tour. The people, the places,
the fantastic moments and the unavoidable drama and friction. Whether you're a fan of the
band or not, you may possibly enjoy the events that unfolded around these real life characters.
and the actual captivating events listed here.
 - Truman Joyner


THE BLUE MERIDIAN UK TOUR 2005

In late July I arrived in Europe. More precisely, Rome by way of Amsterdam.  It was rainy in Amsterdam and although it was fun catching up at a hash bar with an old friend, I was excited to touch down in Italy. I was about to embark on my first European tour, I was very excited about taking my music to another continent, but my first focus was the birthday of my older brother, [Journalist, Intellectual and Wine/Food Connoisseur Extraordinaire] Eric J. Lyman and the chance to spend over a week in the amazing city of Rome.


Within 200 yards of Eric's flat, which was built more than 400 years ago and rising up around ruins that date back thousands of years: the Bocca della Verita , the Forum, the Coliseum. In Rome, natives scratch graffiti on monuments and structures older than anything in America. Not so much out of a lack of respect for their nations public relics, but for a lack of any contemporary surface. The cobblestone alley outside my brother's apartment would have a red velvet rope around it in the U.S. Over in Italy, it's just a walkway. The trip to Rome was an unforgettable one, but this story is primarily about the tour and for fans of my music, so we should probably advance to August 3rd the day I touched down at Gatwick Airport, just south of London.

It was my fourth troubled flight in less than 2 weeks. This time the plane was diverted north to the Luton Airport due to a grounded plane with a flat tire clogging an important runway. The flight eventually ended at Gatwick, but it was delayed nearly three hours. I should note that Easy Jet didn’t hesitate to charge me 30 Euros because my bag was 7 pounds overweight, but offered nothing in exchange for the seriously delayed arrival of our flight. A couple Scotch and Coke’s would have kept me quiet. A previous flight from Amsterdam to Rome left the Blue Meridian merchandise bag (loaded with CDs and the U.K. Tour shirts) lost in the abyss, not to be discovered until 30 days later, (oddly enough at J.F.K. Airport in N.Y.C.) So far, no satisfaction on that situation either. Flying can be a huge bother. Perhaps man wasn’t meant to fly.



Assistant Tour Manager, long time Blue Meridian fan and Driver of the bus, Geoff Semple, collected me from the airport and soon after, we picked up Claire and Clara, Milton Keynes residents of the documentary film crew at the train station in Crawley (Creepy Crawley as they call it there). Claire was a curvy bleach blonde, who resembled a much younger version of Stiffler's Mother from the film "American Pie." Her and I had spent some time chatting about the documentary prior to the tour. She was about 20 years of age and engaged in a seven year relationship to a fellow back north. Clara was a thin, cute gal who smelled of cigarettes and refused to flirt with anyone at any time, but extremely pleasant in her ways. They both had their mitts full, lugging video equipment off the train. Most of which they'd never get around to using.

We organized back at Geoff's flat and met tenants Julie and Les. Julie was a lovely, very Scottish looking lass who saw fit to tell me I "talk too much" within moments of our arrival. I don't think I ever recovered from that assessment in her eyes, no matter how quiet I was at times. Les was a thin older fellow with a missing front tooth who would get all red in the face when I'd say that Geoff resembled Private Pyle from Kubrick's "Full Metal Jacket." I can usually see a movie or rock star in anyone. It seems I can't prevent myself from outwardly comparing people’s appearances to some celebrity. Flattering or not. The other guys in the group weren't scheduled to arrive until the following day. My first night in London as the only Meridian member consisted mostly of pounding Stella tall boys and performing a few songs in Geoff’s kitchen for the documentary. You have no idea how long I waited to perform a Billy Bragg song for a room full of Brits. Surprisingly they fended off open laughter while I sang in my best cockney accent.

On the 4th, longtime Blue Meridian alumnus, Chadwick Steinmetz (guitar) and good friend and amazing musician, on loan from the band P.S.S., George Castells also touched down at Gatwick Airport. Continental Airlines lost George's Bass Guitar (to be found later the same day, thank God, as the tour began that very night in Camden, London). Makes you wonder what kind of order and intelligence runs things in the mysterious underbelly of an airport. An airline courier delivered the instrument to the house and in celebration Geoff proceeded to make a few dozen raw bacon and butter sandwiches, wrapped in small hot dog buns, for our trip. He stuffed them in a cooler and off we went.

Our bus was a Ford Diesel, named by Geoff the “Scooby Bus” (don’t ask). It had enough room to seat about 12 comfortably with enough extra space for gear. The radio sucked, the seats didn’t recline, it rattled like a landing allied airship that took too much shrapnel (or an Easy Jet) but it would get us to where we needed to go. At first anyhow.

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