|Metallica show, after 15 years. The location is again a stadium but 12,000 kilometers farther. With French lessons. || |
I quite didn't succeed with the original early morning departure idea, because the weather report from the last evening and the few reviews of the show on the previous day quite took my happiness away: strong raining flooded La Plata. The morning awake in Buenos Aires brought similar notions, with rain and clouds voided any wish of action.
The equipment, the gear was so null, those who immediately get bored of the equipment related sentences, just scroll down. Since I headed to a Big Shot Concert, I already didn't want to take my DSLR camera. More of a hassle and I neither wanted to argue with the security people; not to mention I have one or more concert photography behind my back, therefore I can certainly tell that the best possibilities, are worth to shot are taken in the pit, in front of the stage or farther from the back with a telephoto lens. Outside of those you still have some possibilities, but among the yodeling, rodeoing crowd you either pay attention to your gear or you enjoy the show.
Therefore I started the whole journey only with my little Canon compact camera, what obviously predestined the quality of the pictures; and not mentioning the rainy-cloudy weather.
Now, as diplomatically and in an unbelievably witty manner I excused myself of the
so-so picturesand short diary, let's continue.
At 11:15am finally I got to the green subte and headed to the Constitución railway terminal with the blue metro.
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Right at noon I reached the terminal and right grabbed the 20 minutes later departing local train to the southern city of the Silver.
Does Hungary or a developed country like this? On the train stations (at least the railway terminals in the capital do have) you can find dedicated electronic boxes with SUBE: you press the destination, put the card to the reader and it immediately spits out the ticket. There are classic counters too but only the tourists and local people with lesser affinity with the technology use them.
Probably Hungary and other countries too have such, but it clearly makes the life easier.
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The local cars.
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Silvery train station.
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On the way out, I started to speculate, maybe that group of beer-drinking people, with a member whose backpack has a leg of a goat hanging out and every of them wore Metallica T-shirts - do they intend to see the concert too?
Could this be the Fate?
Could this be the Karma?
Where are we coming from?
Where are we heading to?
d01_05 (2014-03-30 12:06:28) -- show location on Google Maps
Arrival to the city of Silver
During my first La Plata walk I officially pronounced it as my arch enemy: I hate the Río de la Plata-type rain, in wet seasons pouring the Capital too.
There's no more menial rain in the whole world.
This is a rain what one cannot describe.
This rain, what you cannot get over.
This rain attacks with very smooth drops, so you actually doesn't feel or hear anything. But even with the uttermost quality woven, welded umbrella, rain make thru its way. Not to mention, it attacks in a tricky manner, then comes the even more sudden, treacherous wind what:
d01_07 (2014-03-30 13:50:14) -- show location on Google Maps
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| Arrival before half past 2, to the Frankville hostel (you can find them as |
Franvkilleon Hostelworld...), signing in. While I was packing my miniBackpack on the bed, two girls in leather jackets opened the door and then I asked the stupidest question in the whole wide world:
You came to see Metallica too?
My goat-sacrificing instincts didn't mislead me, they replied a positive answer. They're from France, travelling through Argentina and like Metallica. Okay, then we join to discover the Metallica concert in the evening.
Main square of La Plata
But, before that, I had a walk in the silently pouring rain of La Plata. The Cathedral.
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The Municipal building across the Cathedral.
More and so, at this time I realized something...maybe it was because of the rain, maybe the Sunday morning...but looking back and count, all my 20 fingers would have been too much to count how many people did I see in the city until 3:30pm. Strange. Maybe all the youngsters and elders already stood at the stadium to enter.
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The Cathedral of La Plata is indeed as imposing as you can see it, being the 58. tallest Christian building; after the tallest the 58. comes, no?
What should one know about the cathedral? The foundation was laid down in 1884 and the church was consecrated with the name of
Parroquia Nuestra Señora de los Dolores-
The Pains of Our Ladyparish church in 1902. Then one-or-more constructions were carried out with the idea to reach the adulthood by 1931, aka to promote it as a cathedral. Life turned into some other directions because they had to realize, the foundation isn't strong enough for the grand expansion.
Then 60 years of silence and break happened. In 1900, the newer generations of the architects and builders wanted to the restart the project again with the ambitious idea to indeed elevate the parish church into a cathedral. They had better plans, better equipment to stand into the earthly service of God - thus by 2000. the cathedral reached its state what we can see nowadays: doesn't have any lesser significance than with its 112 meters, it's the sixth tallest cathedral in the Americas.
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And one must grant, it is dominant beyond doubt and an architectural masterpiece. I liked the harmony of the grayish columns merged with the play of illumination of the blue-yellow colours.
There was no art-deco, artsy, keeping the small finger away from the glass bullshit in the above.
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d01_13 (2014-03-30 15:41:11) -- show location on Google Maps
The metallers didn't spare even the cathedral: they walked around! Though, one of them asquinted that confessional chair very suspiciously...I was confident he was about to tag an inverted cross onto...
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d01_15 (2014-03-30 15:44:18) -- show location on Google Maps
Oh no! On ze evenin' they gonna get drunk and gonna dem sacrifice ze goatz!
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Preparing for Metallica
I walked back to the hostel, but the city was still dead. Dead. Nobody was nowhere, only the lonely wind blasted through the buildings of La Plata, among lonely architecture.
I could and will say, I'm happy that I didn't visit the city in the early morning, because it wouldn't make any sense to maunder along in the astucious rain. Especially when everything was closed.
Henceforth, without any options and possibility to grab some local meal, at 4:30pm I decided to sat into a Burger King to ingest a cheese-bacon burger for the reason of energy refilling. I could go to McDonald's too, but I didn't.
From this point I started to think that the gates were to open from 7pm, so I had more than 1 empty hour - the sport, after the burger do think of sport, God forgives you! With similar ideas I got back to the hostel and this moment providence helped me out: the rain stopped. With the French girls, we left to the stadium on foot.
The distance is scary only map-wise, in reality it takes only about 30 minutes.
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One might catch on this picture better: as you're walking toward the stadium on the Avenue 32, you can see the inventive locals - next to really close to each other - to realize some extra income during the concerts. They put their asado-barbecue machinery next to the road - the view is very Argentine. One-storeyed, more scruffy houses, white plastic chairs and smoking BBQ machines (Paty ground meat pushed into a sweetened pancho, spluttered with ketchup - like at any random gastronomical location of the country), cooler boxes filled with ice and 3 dl Quilmes.
The loudspeakers loudly spoke the
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At the very first point of spotting the stadium, I recalled Lieutenant Frank Drebin and the doctor who draws mussels everywhere.
- Doctor! Doctor! I have a vagina complex!!! - says the patientDuring the walk one-one beer disappears as a refresher; the weather is utterly warm, utterly humid because the clouds pushed down and kept the warm air below, one must say.
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Shiny Happy People, they got inside. Further joy and happiness, apparently any rain might come, we ain't gonna get wet under the protection of the tent.
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Be very ashamed, if you cannot position the direction of the picture by the time and the angle of the Sun!
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Here comes the ambush. We bought some beer, about 4 dl costs 25 mangos and after the first sip you must realize, this ain't no have alcohol!
In default, not the lack of the alcohol took away my wish of being alive but the sweetened taste.
We were assured by a big rokker too - who wasn't under under the tent only but already the influence too - that people are scammed here inside. Okay-okay, but we tried to release the tension that it's still refreshing. He looked at us strangely then left.
Selling alcohol-free beer is not only a sellout but is neither any minimization of the dangers. Because one who has the need of such, can tightly liquor him or herself up outside to the point to be able to walk in a somewhat straight line - then the entrance is clear through the security guards.
And yep, I didn't mention, for people like ourselves who didn't have any backpack, only the tickets were inspected, no body searching, no security gates.
If I had wanted to smuggle in a pan-flute in my underwear, I could do it.
d01_22 (2014-03-30 18:38:34) -- show location on Google Maps
No more fucking public service announcements.- what happened a few years ago. Today there were more than ideal.
The whole motivation of the concert was that after the purchase of the ticket through the internet with a credit card, you could register with your email address and could vote for 1 song, what you'd like to hear as the extra (Metallica by Request).
Well, I failed this because of 2 reasons:
Ride the Lightning, because it's clearly an outsider. Hetfield made jokes about this later
Come ooon...Ride the Lightning??*huge laughter with the stadium* Although the
Trapped Under Iceis worse by many more levels...let's face it...he's right.
Wherever I May Roam...probable-probable. Blackened? Likewise.
Meanwhile the fanatic members of the
Metallica Fanclub, Argentina Divisionarrived, thus the group reached the original idea + 2 persons.
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d01_24 (2014-03-30 18:53:27) -- show location on Google Maps
C1rse or Arse?
The first supporting band (Orquestra de Reciclados de Caetura). I couldn't determine from the design of their logo that according to the Latin alphabet, their name is Arse or C1rse (???). Later the singer girl clarified that their name is Cirse, they're an Argentine band and they know that everybody waits only for the Metallica.
I didn't hear anything in them, this happened probably because of the only 4 songs they played. Or not.
She was very angry during the songs. About. Something. I couldn't figure out why.
d01_25 (2014-03-30 19:19:44) -- show location on Google Maps
An another public service announcement:
Dear tipsy rokkers! We will show you this only 1 time during the night, played in 30 seconds, therefore we expect you will remember 3 hours later: you can see the exact route on which you can return to Buenos Aires after the show. Thank you for your attention, long live the Queen and Malvinas Islands belong to Argentina!
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I told ya.
d01_27 (2014-03-30 19:30:24) -- show location on Google Maps
Musicians playing with garbage
One with smaller, other with bigger. Clear, no? What cannot be understood? A philharmonic orchestra from Uruguay appeared on the stage, and the trick meant their instruments were made of garbage - pipes, paper, boxes, barrels, etc.
d01_28 (2014-03-30 19:57:01) -- show location on Google Maps
Okay-okay. The girl was very cute and her musical interest was pleasing too, I welcome this anytime. The mission too was very nice, that the Argentine audience accepted the poor Uruguayan musicians on poor instruments, I welcome it. Even and furthermore, I clearly appreciate that they played the Apocalyptica feat Marta Jandova - En Vie, what's one of the best songs ever in the world (I'll return to this in the minidiary), in addition they enacted the Nothing Else Matters too - forecasting the drops of tears of the audience sitting with scaringly straight back on the upper seats in the above boxes for the Metallica version.
Nonetheless, the sound of the instruments was terrible.
Did this have any kind of artsy, art-deco flavour what attempted to depict a Jean Valjean-type struggle of the the musicians' instruments, to reach the pearly teardrops of the Muses? Maybe. But they still sounded terrible.
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I really must shoot this historical picture: you can see Lars Ulrich's oil barrel what he used during the recording of the St. Anger album!
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Splitters! Lusterless, straight-faced people!
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You gonna get wet sooner in the rain, but being taller is better.
(okay, I cheated a little bit with the camera angle)
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The audience is arriving, the counters jumped up (or they were bamboozled...people were motivated). It seems that Blackened is the winner.
Megadeth - Symphony of Destructionwas played for the waiting audience...I told ya, only the amateur YouTube-graduates see, put self-mauling between the two bands.
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James Hetfield jumps into the Master of Puppets. Unexpected and more positive starting song.
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Rob Trujillo, bass guitar and a randomly, one might call as somewhat usable picture too.
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Lars Ulrich, in a tighter, more prepared manner than he did it for years.
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Kirk Hammett, his guitar didn't even fit on the screen! Aww, come on, I'm just joking.
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There were Jedi tricks too, like I Disappear.
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d01_39 (2014-03-30 21:50:59) -- show location on Google Maps
d01_40 (2014-03-30 21:52:13) -- show location on Google Maps
The guitar, Kirk Hammett, James Hetfield. I told you the sequence, what will you notice and in which order.
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The Unforgiven, if a genuine Metallica fan didn't notice it. A genuine Metallica fan notices it.
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The two guitar players. One of them plays a solo.
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d01_45 (2014-03-30 22:59:57) -- show location on Google Maps
Heyy! Who's that handsome young man there?
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There? Oh, that's me! :))
No tricks, happened like this and was funny.
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Hetfield was very good, put the show into the play. The joke with the guitar pick was quite good at the end of the Nothing Else Matters.
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Awwww, how cuteeee!!! Even balloooonssss!!!
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Buenos Aires! Buenos Aires! Do you feel what I feel?- Well James, yes. But please let me add a small comment of a little cartography error: this isn't Buenos Aires. But La Plata.
Click here to see one of the funniest videos on YouTube.
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Right and nearly sharply before midnight the last notes of
Wherever I May Roambecame silent. Rob Trujillo, on bass guitar.
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Kirk Hammett, the favourite of everyone (when he takes his foot away from the wah-wah pedal).
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Lars Ulrich, allegedly one of the most contradictory person of the metal scene. I stay with his drumming and music.
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James Hetfield, the gentleman no need introductions...but wait! At the right-down side of the picture, isn't that Kirk? How did he get among the audience? And this fast?
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d01_58 (2014-03-31 00:03:10) -- show location on Google Maps
| This was the Metallica concert in 2014, in La Plata with a few pictures. It was a great entertainment, |
Hit the Lights. Personally, even better. Come on, what do you expect from a Metallica show? You want old songs? Bingo, right into your face:
Lords of Summeris a new song (still not to my taste, but I respect it), outside, a real Metallica fan wouldn't change anything on this list. Maybe would put the
Whiplashthere...but this was only a quibble of a
Trapped Under Ice
Stone Cold Crazy.
The audience most appreciated the musically and anyway most commercial, played to the bones songs -
Nothing Else Matters(uhh, even if I indeed like the Nothing Else Matters...this was a stomach-hittingly honest
Sad But True), but compared to 1993, they were clearer and better prepared with the structure of the songs.
Obviously, the chastened and blood-craving
Better Than You,
Holier Than Thouex-fans and the truly true Megadeth fans (hehe) could munch some errors: for instance some music mistakes like the closing of the songs (the cymbals + the more-more-more rounds on the guitars) wandered away or the drumsticks sometimes were out of the rhythm.
So What?For an educational material - because there's never been any rock musician who never played any Metallica - just use the studio albums.
The gentlemen naturally in a more consolidated manner but during 2 hours and 20 minutes are still able to perform a great show, give a good concert.
You're thrashing all around.
On the way back
| Immediately, when we left the concert had the idea of positioning ourselves, because not the Devil it-him-herself wanted to be the fiftytwothousandninehundredninetyninth in the queue awaiting a taxi. On the way back the cabs seemed preferred than a thru the dark streets and crossing public parks. This was the idea. Bidding farewell to the fanatic members of the Metallica Fanclub, Argentina Division, and we tried to get a cab to the accommodation.|
I activated myself, stepped to the cars on the closer side of the road, so many that they reached each others exhaust pipe:
Buenos Aires?- he asked me. I said no, only a local ride.
That ain't gonna work, we take the people back to Buenos Aires. But why don't you ask the cabs on the other side of the road.
Okay, we went to the other side of the road.
Buenos Aires?- he asked. I said no - at this point I became somewhat clear with the background notions - We need
only a local ride, a few blocks away.He replied that ain't gonna work, he takes people only to Buenos Aires. I replied as a gentleman:
You lazy pig...Sir, people will still rushing out from the stadium, while you carried us 6 times back and forth, for extra money.Unfortunately no, he's interested only to reach Buenos Aires. But, why I'm not trying the queue of the cabs between the two roads at the middle island.
Okay, we went to the middle green island of grass, to the cars.
Buenos Aires?- he asked. I said no, we wish to go only to this local address. He started to explain:
You go down to the Street 19, then the crossing Street 46 is only a few blocks away from there.I said okay, that's something we already knew: we need a ride. Alas, he cannot offer such, because I quote
Buenos Aires.But, he tried to be helpful, that just walk a few blocks away, probably there's gonna be some local drivers who - wait, lemme figure this out
ain't gonna go to Buenos Aires.Thank you very much, see ya.
Therefore on the contrary of the original idea, we just started to walk back to the accommodation, with the probability of catching a cab on the way there. What did not happen, or rather there was one, 2 blocks from the destination. Thanks, but at that time it was unnecessary.
Thus we nicely walked in the romantic nature of a La Plata morning.
Meanwhile I realized that ultimately this street naming convention is good: for example to catch the scamming cab drivers.Finally we reached the destination at 1am and the end of the day.
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