"It was good of your cousin to send us the tickets.”
"I told you before she’s not my cousin, she’s Max’s,” I repeated.
"Same difference, talking of which, where are the lads?”
"Dunno,” I admitted as I dodged a small child dressed as Wonder Woman, I couldn’t swear but I think it was a boy.
"Best text them, they’ll never find us in this lot, where shall I say?”
"By the lavs? Bum, you seen the queue Tal?”
"Just as well we’re not desperate eh?” she scoffed.

Speak for yourself girl, I think I need a cork, we joined the back of the snaking queue for the facilities – how come they never have enough ladies loos anywhere, you’d think by now they’d have learnt. I suppose we can be thankful that it’s dry; a wet music festival isn’t a lot of fun whatever anyone says. Last year’s Moselfest even made the national news when it turned into a king size mud bath.

The queue shuffled along, I followed along sort of humming along to the band playing the main stage somewhere behind us. There was a chime as someone’s Handy received a message.

“’Bout time,” Tal muttered, "Daft sod, you want Grünkohl, Gabs?”
"Grünkohl?” I queried.
"Apparently there’s a stall,” she shrugged.
Why not I guess, "Go on then, we’ll need food by the time we’ve waited here all day.”

Tal quickly tapped out her reply and I returned my attention to the music and people watching, rocking to the beats as I hummed along.

The pair of us emerged from the already smelly portaloos at almost the same moment, next job; find the lads and our food. A riverside meadow is no place for heels so I've borrowed my sisters ‘Goth boots’ which give me a few extra centimetres but let’s not make bones about it, I'm a short arse. In a crowd, well I spend a lot of time looking at peoples’ backs.

"You see ‘em?”
"Think so, come on.”

We pushed our way through the bodies and sure enough the twin towers of Josh and Max were deep in conversation next to a pile of straw bales.

"There you are,” Tal pointed out er pointlessly.

Josh started, nearly dropping the floppy plastic bier glass he was gripping.

"Shit, Tal, you made me jump!”
"I hope there’s some of that for us?” I enquired.
"Erm,” Max managed.
"Don’t worry,” I went on, "We can share.”
"It’s Dunkel,” he advised.
"As long as it’s wet, where’s this Grünkohl?”

"Don’t spill that,” Max instructed.
"Gabs spill food,” Tal scoffed, “more likely see a flying pig!”
"Er Tal, luv,” Josh pointed towards the main arena.

I almost fell from my lofty perch, well Max’s shoulders, there were indeed several inflatable pink porcines drifting above the crowd.

"That where we’re headed?” Tal queried from ground level.
"Yeah,” I agreed before shovelling another fork load of Grünkohl and Mettwurst into my maw.

Its years since I last got a piggy back from Dad, I was probably about six, I'd forgotten how good a vantage point it gives. It was actually Max’s idea; I think I've been complaining about the view a bit much today. Anyhow we drifted towards the main arena; it’s easier when you can see where you are heading.

Of course it was already well rammed with festival goers so we didn’t get more than a few metres inside; the view of the stage, even from my elevated position was crap.

"Well at least we’ll be able to hear them,” Tal suggested.
"Great,” I moaned.
"Erdbeere!”
"They think its Wimbledon like?” Josh queried.
"You what?” I asked.
"Some guy just shouted out for strawberries.”
"Erdbeere!”

I heard it this time and recognised the voice.

"I don’t think he’s offering fruit,” I sighed, "Stefan,” I called back.
"Thought it was you,” the Blau Hase frontman opined across the crowd between us, "Your man here?”
"Sitting on him, still can’t see anything,” I complained.
"Reckon we can do something about that,” he suggested pushing his way towards us.
"Really?”
"I've got some backstage passes you can have; strangely everyone wants to be out front for Quo.”
"We’re with friends,” I sighed – how cool backstage passes for the Quo would be.
"Go on, Gab, we’re okay,” Tal put in.
"Just the two?” Stefan asked.
"Yeah,” Max agreed from between my knees.
"All of you, come on,” Stefan suggested heading back out of the arena area.

It was quieter outside now so I returned to terra firma as Stefan led the way around the enclosure at a fast clip.

"Where’re we going, Stef?”
"The best seats in the house, Erdbeere.”

I looked at Tal and shrugged.

"Who is he?” she whispered.
"Singer with Blau Hase.”
"That band you sing with?”
"Only once,” I pointed out.
"Twice,” Max corrected.
"Whatever.”
"So what’s with calling you, strawberry?” Josh queried joining in our whispery discussion.
"Hair?” I suggested as explanation.

He looked at me in confusion for a moment before it clicked, “Oh right.”

We were somewhere back of the stage area now, Stefan leading us to the access point.

"Hi, Johann.”
"Who you got here, Stefan?” the hired meat controlling access enquired.
“My singer and her people, they got lost out front.”
"The one you were telling me about?”
"The same,” Stefan replied, "Johann, meet Erdbeere, Erd, my mate Johann,” he works security at all the big venues.”
"Er hi,” I allowed.
"Don’t suppose you’ve got your passes?” the man mountain asked.
"Sorry, left them inside,” Tali quickly filled, "Didn’t think we needed them in the arena.”
"The headliners, we’ve got more security than usual today, look forward to hearing you later, Erdbeere.”
"Er yeah.”

He ushered us through and Stef led us through to the ‘green room’, well marquee really.

"Look who I found,” he told the rest of the band.
"Erdbeere!” Animal greeted.

"So we got to watch Quo from the side of the stage,” I told my audience.
"Oh come on, Gab, tell them the whole story,” Tal prompted.
"There’s more?” Sally asked.
"Oh yeah,” Tali crowed, "Go on, Gab, tell ‘em.”

Like I've got any choice now, Thalia Schmidt!

"Whatever,” I sighed, "So...”

What could I say, Stefan had got us all back stage, into the ‘green room’ no less with its free beer and food, no wasn’t a realistic option.

"It’s only a short set,” Big Jo advised.
"So you up for it?” Marcus queried.
"I guess,” I replied with more certainty in my voice than I felt.
"Great!” Stefan enthused, "Best go over the set list for our singer.”

"Where you bin hen?” Josh enquired when I re-joined the others who were already in the backstage side stage area (which was actually in front of the stage separated from the great unwashed by a double fence of steel barriers.)
"Getting ready to pay for this.”
"What are you on about?” Tal pushed, "You’ve gone a bit over the top with the slap.”
"Again?” Max asked in turn.
"Again? What’s he on about, girl?” Schmidt prompted.
I took a deep breath, "You know about Bonn, right?”
"Yeah,” she cautiously allowed.
"Well, take two.”
"Take two?” Josh queried.
"She’s singing again,” Max answered for me.
"No shit!” Tali stated.

"Nervous?” Animal asked as we waited for the stage crew to set up the Blau Hase gear after the loud and tuneless Punk band ahead of us came off.
"You could say that.”
"You need a drink?” he offered.
"Best not.”
"Looks like us,” Big Jo mentioned from behind us.

‘And now, all the way from Bonn,’ the chap doing the intros paused as the some of the crowd chuckled, ‘local favourites, BLAUHASE!’

There was a loud answering cheer; the waiting is over – well almost.

The others jogged onto the stage and went straight into their self-penned number Sauerkraut. I waited for my cue almost wetting my knickers, this is no seedy backstreet venue with a hundred drunks, this is Moselfest with twenty thousand music fans expecting to be properly entertained.

Little Jo gave the agreed signal and I took a deep breath before clumping out onto the stage. I headed to ‘my’ microphone a couple of metres from Stefan and joined in with the last verse of Sauerkraut, a song about lost love rather than pickled cabbage.

"Hello Neef!” Stefan called out as we caught our breath.
There was the expected cheer back before he went on.

"I know you’re all waiting for the Status Quo but we hope to entertain you while you wait, so I'd like you to welcome the newest addition to the Blau Hase line up, Gaby Erdbeere!”

I gave a wave as the crowd shouted back. I'm not sure what I was feeling other than petrified. If my legs hadn’t been firmly planted in my sister’s heavy Goth boots I'm sure my knees would’ve been knocking big style.

"You might know the next number,” Stefan suggested to our audience before stepping back to Little Jo’s mic.

I unclipped my own microphone and nervously moved to the front of the stage, the first few chords sounded across the arena and the crowd quieted, I took a breath and started to sing.

Is this the real life? Is this just fantasy?
Caught in a landslide, no escape from reality
Open your eyes, look up to the skies and see
I'm just a poor girl, I need no sympathy
Because I'm easy come, easy go, little high, little low
Any way the wind blows doesn’t really matter to me, to meeee

And so we started our rendition of Queen’s infamous Bohemian Rhapsody.

We followed Bo Rhap with Run to the hills then I got a break through another Blau Hase original, a noisy ditty with the title of The Battle of Düren. The crowd either liked it or were glad it was over, I'm not sure which but my return front and centre seemed to calm things down. With the others providing the music Stefan started our penultimate number.

Lena?
Nee, heute nicht Lena, sondern Gaby!
Augenringe erzählen die Nacht
Fremdes Hotel, bist fröstelnd aufgewacht
Mit nem Gewisse, das dich ständig beißt
Oh, du fehlst mir so
… Nena, wie ‘n klarer warmer Wind
Wenn die Tage stürmisch sind
Lass ich mich zu dir trieben
Seelen aneinander reiben!

Lena got a reasonable response and we went straight into the final number of the set, 99 Luftballons.

Von 99 Luftballons auf ihrem Weg zum Horizont
Hielt man für Ufos aus dem All
Darum schickte ein General ‘ne Fliegerstaffel hinterher
Alarm zu Geben, wenn’s so wär
Dabei war’n dort am Horizont
Nur 99 Luftballons

The crowd were joining in by the second verse and some five minutes later I finished my vocal. It’s Germany; Red Balloons is almost the popular alternative to Deutschland Uber Alles! There was a slight pause before the paying customers started cheering, whistling and Gott knows what else in appreciation.

"Thank you, Moselfest,” Stefan yelled out, "We have been Blau Hase!”

We departed the stage, the crowd still offering verbal appreciation of our thirty minute set.

"Gurgh!” I managed as I slumped into a seat in the green room.
"Here,” Max having followed me through quickly plonked a bottle of something cold in my hand.
"Cheers,” I took a slug without looking, nearly choking as the bier frothed in my mouth.
"Well done, girl,” someone offered.

I waved my bottle in reply.

"We smashed it, eh?” Animal proposed.
"Thanks to Erdbeere here,” Stefan suggested joining us.
"I only sang, you guys were playing,” I protested.
"Well you can ‘only sing’ with us anytime,” Big Jo stated.
I started to colour up, "I er need the loo.”

The backstage lavs are somewhat nicer than the public portaloos, cleaner for sure.

"Here, you need to re do,” Tal told me handing me my mini backpack that was serving as my Handtasche.
"Thanks.”
"When you said you sang with them before I wasn’t expecting that.”
"That?”
"The whole rock chick thing, you can really sing, girl.”
"Er thanks,” I allowed washing my face, "Don’t you dare tell Mum or Dad.”
"Why not?”
"Just because—okay.”
"Whatever, anyhow hurry up, the Quo will be starting.”

I just made it to the backstage side stage area before the top of the bill, world famous Status Quo took to the stage, the same stage that thirty minutes ago I was singing on with my band. My band, where did that come from? I borrowed Max’s drink and took a swig before cuddling into his side. They were a couple of numbers into their set before something clicked from earlier, that ‘well done girl’ in the green room was only from Francis Rossi!

"You’re kidding,” Claire suggested after I concluded the tale.
"Nope, straight up,” I told her allowing myself a slight grin; yeah it was quite a day.