Efa Supertramp Balkan Tour Report

We flew from Manchester to Sofia, Bulgaria. After arriving at the airport in the blistering sun, we took a bus into town and met our hosts and promoters, Mitko and Yoanna. They were a lovely straight edge vegan couple who took us to their home, which was full of animals: a dog, a cat, and loads of kittens! We browsed their awesome collection of hardcore, punk, and straight edge zines, listened to vinyl, and were entertained by the crazy cats.

We wandered down to a nearby market, which was full of characters. Markets are a great place to get a feel for a city. Local people linger and shop, and you see the food they eat and how they socialise. This was certainly different from other markets I had visited in Europe. The poverty was obvious. People sold single cigarettes and worthless junk on the side of the street, while many rummaged through the bins. We dumpster-dived some nectarines, tomatoes, cucumbers, and peppers. Some little Romani children looked at us weirdly and asked why we were going in the trash, because they thought we were Bulgarian and therefore rich. The quality of the skipped food was nothing like what we find in supermarket bins in the UK, and emphasised just how wasteful and privileged we are over here.

7 September 2012 – Jet Rock Club, Sofia, Bulgaria

We spent the day wandering around Sofia, which felt bare and run-down. The old communist buildings and statues were interesting to us as outsiders raised in a modern capitalist society. Their practical ugliness, strange messages, and tributes fascinated us. We headed back to the house and spent the afternoon helping to cook a large amount of vegan food to give away outside before the gig! Yum!

We headed down to Jet Rock Club, where I was supposed to be supporting the female-fronted crust band Finisterre from Germany. The owner of the bar had said our music styles were too different, so I was told I would play outside the club after the band had finished! Bizarre, but hey, that’s all part of the adventure of touring countries like Bulgaria, I suppose!

We hung out outside the club, talking to people from Sofia’s hardcore scene. We were told that Nazis were a problem in Sofia and Bulgaria as a whole. It was “cool” for young people in Bulgaria to be right-wing at the moment, and their numbers were much greater than those of the punks or anarchists. There was no strong antifascist movement. Nazis violently targeted squats and refugee camps where impoverished migrants and Roma people were forced to live.

Finisterre took the stage, and although the room wasn’t jam-packed, there was a good number of people there and plenty of energy. People started moshing and dancing to their super-political and empowering music. After they finished, I picked up my guitar and played outside on the street. Many of the people from the show sat down and watched me play. I had a great reaction, and many said they would come and see my gig at Adelante the next day! It was a fun way to start the tour, and a million miles from anywhere I had played before!

8 September 2012 – Adelante Social Centre, Sofia, Bulgaria

We spent the day wandering around Sofia again, then cooked pasta for our hosts before walking across the city to Adelante Social Centre. The basic, relatively small space had been operating since December 2010. It was an open, free, non-commercial, and autonomous meeting space.

I was the only one performing that evening, so I was surprised that so many people had turned up. I couldn’t believe I was playing to a packed room in Bulgaria’s capital. All the chairs were full, and some people had to stand at the back, but what surprised me most was the silence. Everyone listened intensely while I played. Between songs, the cheering and applause were massive!

After the show, I sold over 20 CDs, and loads of people shook my hand and thanked me for playing. Someone gave me a rose, and I did an interview about music and politics for the social centre’s website and Bulgaria Indymedia. Everyone was buzzing, and we stayed around for ages, talking about Wales and our tour.

The next day, Mitko and Yoanna said they would take us to the train station. We were running slightly late, so after walking a while, we jumped on a tram. They said we didn’t need a ticket because inspectors never checked on Sundays. Naturally, this was the Sunday there were ticket inspectors on the tram, and we got caught. After trying to argue and talk our way out of it, we had to pay a “large” fine of about €10.

We caught a train to Dragoman, almost on the border with Serbia. We were in Bulgaria’s countryside, and it felt like the Wild West: desolate, with a long, straight road stretching into the distance, yellowed grass dried by the sun, and a blue sky with cartoon-like clouds floating happily above us. We walked through the intense heat to the closest petrol station, where we spent the last of our Bulgarian leva on crisps and apple juice.

We hitchhiked for about an hour before getting a ride over the border into Serbia. Our driver took us a few hundred kilometres north and dropped us at the turning we wanted for Kraljevo. We were only about an hour away, but the sun soon started sinking, and we realised we were going to have to sleep out. We walked around for a while before finding a suitable bush tucked behind an old lorry container. We slept beneath the stars. The autumn cold woke us in the night, but we made it through.

10 September 2012 – Klub Evergreen Kulturni, Kraljevo, Serbia

We woke up in the bush and got moving quickly to start hitchhiking. It wasn’t long before we got a lift down the road to a better spot. We stood in the sun for about an hour before an awesome lorry driver picked us up. He spoke English and said he picked up hitchhikers to show that Serbs were nice people. He was getting married the following Saturday and was excited and talkative. He told us so much about life in Serbia: wages, cars, the price and problems of buying weed, and all kinds of things you would never learn from a Lonely Planet guidebook!

He dropped us off about two kilometres outside Kraljevo. Our host, Vojkan, came to meet us and paid for a taxi to where we would be staying for the next few days, an NGO called Pozitivna Omladina (Positive Youth). Lots of people were coming and going from the centre. A 16-year-old boy named Vladimir spoke to us for ages. He was hyperactive and passionate, dodging school because he had better things to do! He told us it was cool to be a nationalist in Serbia, and he was buzzing when we gave him a Welsh Antifa badge.

After drinking loads of coffee, we headed over to the high school to meet a 15-year-old sticker artist who went by “Petro.” He and Crav had been trading stickers over the internet, and he had organised a combined sticker exhibition and gig for the two of us at Klub Evergreen. We went over to the cultural centre, which was used for all kinds of social events for Kraljevo residents. Petro had already covered three boards with stickers from across the world, and there were two blank ones for Crav to fill with his collection. It looked really good when it was finished!

We rushed back to Positive Youth, where we shared a pot of vegan food with a big group of people. Then we rushed back to Klub Evergreen as people were starting to turn up. Crav and I were asked to do an interview with the local community television channel. I was asked about my music and why I had come to Serbia, while Crav was interviewed about sticker art.

The small room was packed out again. It was crazy that we were all these miles from home and so many people had turned up, bought CDs, and thanked us personally for coming to Kraljevo to do a show! People wanted to talk and take photos with us for ages afterwards. It was bizarre and nice at the same time. I got the feeling that not many people from outside Serbia came to play in Kraljevo.

We spent a couple more days in Kraljevo in the hospitable presence of the amazing crew at Positive Youth. It is a nice little town, and we learnt a lot from our hosts about Serbian history and the intolerance that remains in the country. Nationalism and homophobic attitudes remain widespread, which makes the work of this crew even more important to their community!

We caught a bus from Kraljevo to Belgrade. It took about three and a half hours, was boiling hot, and was full of locals. We spent three or four days hanging around Belgrade. I was supposed to play at the art squat Inex Film, but the organisers were completely disorganised and the gig didn’t happen. We got to stay at the squat anyway. It was a massive building with lots of different groups of artists working on different projects. A couple of Australians turned up at the same time as us, looking for somewhere to stay, and we spent a lot of time with them. They were travelling indefinitely and had loads of great stories.

Belgrade is an eerie city because so many buildings are still visibly damaged after being bombed. Apart from one overdeveloped street that could be anywhere in Europe, much of the city stands as a reminder of Serbia’s dark history. We visited the Tito museum, which was bizarre. It contained his grave and gifts from other world leaders. If you ever visit Belgrade, you have to go there. It’s the weirdest museum I have ever seen!

We caught a train from Belgrade to Novi Sad and headed over to CK13, a well-organised youth centre complete with a live music venue, infoshop, activist library, free shop, open kitchen, summer theatre, and office space. The promoter of my gig the following night, Bojan, was putting on a hardcore show. One of the bands was Minus Tree from Italy, whom I had played with in Norwich on my UK tour earlier in the year. It is a small underground world! After watching the bands and buying a load of cool zines, we went to sleep amongst all the hardcore bands in the office space!

17 September 2012 – Crna Ovca, Novi Sad, Serbia

The next day, after a hefty breakfast courtesy of Bojan, we wandered around Novi Sad. The guidebook said some described it as the first Western city, while others called it the last Eastern city. It was certainly much grander than Belgrade, with posh Austro-Hungarian buildings, less obvious poverty, and no signs of war. We walked up to the fortress overlooking the river, where Exit Festival is held in the summer. It was a stunning place.

After walking back into the city, drinking coffee, and writing cheesy postcards, we picked up our bags from CK13 and headed to Crna Ovca (Black Sheep), where I was playing. It was a small alternative music shop with zines, comics, and a little bar, and there was a cheerful man waiting for us. Only five people turned up for the gig, meaning that, including Crav and the barman, I had a grand total of seven people in the audience. I still put all my energy into playing my songs, as I would at any other show, and those who were there were enthusiastic. I enjoyed the gig and talking to everyone afterwards, drinking rakija… I was glad to be around new people. Nothing quite beats an endlessly changing horizon!

18 September 2012 – Panic Room Zica, Belgrade, Serbia

We took a train back to Belgrade. It was hot again after a couple of rainy days. We found an amazing falafel place called Tel Aviv Hummus House, which was expensive in Serbian terms but delicious and highly recommended! (We pretty much try falafel in every city we visit!)

We caught a taxi across the city to Novi Beograd, where all the modern skyscrapers stand. The sun was setting into the smog. I love this time of day in a city, when the bright sun reflects off the shiny buildings and cars rush in every direction as the working day comes to an end. We were going to visit Slobodan Vianovic, a DJ on the radical radio station B92, which resisted Milošević’s repressive rule throughout the ’90s. There is an amazing book called This Is Serbia Calling about the station. READ IT!

Anyway, Slobodan is a big fan of Welsh-language music and often plays it on his show. Crav had been in contact with him for over a decade, and Slobodan had played many of his different projects on the Serbian airwaves! We spoke for hours about Welsh and Serbian music, ate some delicious food, and drank more rakija.

Slobodan drove us to Panic Room Zica and dropped us off outside a big metal door. We climbed the stairs into the venue, which was dark, dingy, and cool. The lights were low, everyone was smoking inside, and the place had a great atmosphere. I met Tom, the promoter who ran the bar. After my soundcheck, I went to put my merch on the table and realised I’d left it in Novi Sad. Damn!

We checked whether we could get a train to Novi Sad and back and still make our train to Zagreb, but we couldn’t. Shit! The merch was our source of money to keep us going through the tour. Luckily, Tom had the great idea of sending the bag on the bus the next morning. He saved us!

I was worried this gig would be empty too, but it soon started filling up as the first act began making cool songs with weird pedal noises, like a one-person version of The Fall or Lou Reed. I played second, and by then the room had filled up. It was a good gig, with people listening and cheering passionately! I was annoyed I didn’t have any CDs to sell.

We stayed to watch the last act, a slightly nervous and drunk 19-year-old who was pretty good. Then we went to stay with our host Ivan, a Serbian guy who had learnt Welsh in Llanbed! He had no connection with Wales, just a fascination with Celtic languages. He spoke Cornish too! Ivan was quite a strange character, with his big beard, staring dark eyes, and obsession with anything mythical, from Celtic history to psychedelic drugs. I went to sleep around 2 a.m., but Crav stayed up all night comparing Welsh and Cornish with him!

19 September 2012 – Autonomi Kulturni Centar Medika, Zagreb, Croatia

After getting my CDs back, thanks to someone putting them on a bus from Novi Sad, we caught a train to Zagreb. It was hot and slow and took seven hours. For the final half-hour, I stuck my head out the window and remembered how exciting it is to travel overland, cross borders, and watch the landscape change in front of you. Much of the journey had been through dried yellow grass and fields of corn. When we got to Zagreb, I was happy. A new city, a new day, and a new place to play!

We walked straight to AKC Medika, a squatted pharmaceutical factory that had become a popular live music venue, and were greeted with food and drink! The lineup was bizarre. First up were Merfolk, a hard rock band from a Croatian island. I played second, followed by Broken Ideas, a teenage indie band. Last was a really weird psychedelic pop band from New York with around ten vinyl releases on their merch table! Strange!

Anyway, my set went well. The big room was about half full, and I even got an encore despite playing second! Loads of people came up to me and said they had enjoyed the show. Woohoo!

The next morning, we jumped on a tram from where we were staying. We spotted ticket inspectors boarding, so we got off in the middle of town, which was cool because we got to see a bit of the city! Zagreb looked grand and Western after spending time in Serbia and Bulgaria.

We caught a train to Ljubljana, and after passport checks to leave Croatia, we were back in the EU. As the train travelled into Slovenia, I was glad to be back in a country I had fallen in love with the previous year. Its nature is incredible: thick, dark green forests, picturesque mountains, and rivers in every shade of blue and green. The capital is full of alternative art and culture, and the people are so welcoming. When we arrived in Ljubljana, we walked straight to Metelkova, the former Yugoslav army barracks squatted more than 20 years earlier. It was like a mini-village of alternative life!

We met up with Emir, the organiser of Pogo Never Ends Fest, which we had attended the previous year. He had found us a place to stay with a couple in the massive ROG squat, an old factory that made Pony bikes in the communist era. Those bikes were still everywhere in Ljubljana! The squat seemed pretty cool, but Jasmin told us about the problems there: laziness, drugs, and carelessness, including fires. Hundreds of people used to live at ROG, but now only five did.

The couple’s flat was really nice and tidy, but it was sad that their lives were so tough because they chose to live outside the status quo. The same problems arise across Europe: people with good intentions, energy, and a genuine passion for building a better society are undermined by the self-destructiveness and laziness of others who just want to live outside the status quo because it’s an easy option. It is sad when the stereotypes of squatters, anarchists, and outlaws are proven right, but it was good to meet Jasmin and her boyfriend, who were hard-working and dedicated.

21 September 2012 – Jalla Jalla, Ljubljana, Slovenia

We all woke up pretty late after a good rest. We cooked a massive pot of food from discarded vegetables we had found in the market and shared it with our hosts. We sat out in ROG’s garden eating, then wandered into the colourful and vibrant city centre.

Later, we headed back to Metelkova, where I was playing at Jalla Jalla, a small but busy bar full of interesting characters. There was vegan food waiting for us. The gig went well, but the sound wasn’t loud enough for my liking! It felt more like a gig in the UK than the others on this tour: half the room was getting fucked and talking loudly while the other half tried to listen. But I had a good enough response, and the soundman told me, “Beautiful voice and beautiful playing,” which was cool.

What stuck in my head most, though, was the woman who said halfway through my set, “Just don’t play anything in Celtic again,” and later came up to insult me! It was strange. I had played all over Wales, England, and Europe in 2012, and this was the first bad thing anyone had said about me singing some songs in Welsh. Stupid woman!

22 September 2012 – Kaleidoskop, Vienna, Austria

We hopped on a train to Vienna and watched the beautiful mountains as we crossed the border into our final destination. Once there, we wandered around the outskirts and eventually found Kaleidoskop. The promoter, Martin, was waiting for us with loads of hummus, falafel, and mate! Yum! It was a tiny little social centre, cluttered and colourful, with zines and weird objects.

People started arriving slowly, and the support act R-Coustic played. There were only around 15 people at the gig, but I was still amazed by the DIY scene and the fact that people would come out on a weekday to see someone from Wales they had never heard of! I almost sold out of CDs, and everyone said they had enjoyed the show. Some even offered me larger shows next time I was in Austria.

We hung out, drank beer, and talked about the tour, life, and politics. It was a really great place to end the tour, full of awesome people!