Biblical by Rob Halford

Author:Rob Halford [Halford, Rob]
Language: eng
Format: epub
Publisher: Hachette Books
Published: 2022-11-02T00:00:00+00:00

HOTELS

When you’re taking your scriptures around the globe, you spend a lot of time in hotels. You can be living on room service for more than a year. I know some metal and rock bands don’t like this and see hotels as a necessary evil, but I don’t. I bloody love them!

When we’re on tour, my hotel room is my sanctuary. If we have a day or two off, I do my level best not to leave the room once. I don’t want to see the local sights, or go out to dinner: I just want my bed, my TV, my phone, and my iPad.

At the point in our career that Priest are at now, we’re lucky enough to be able to afford a bit of luxury. But it wasn’t always like that. As I said earlier, in our early years we’d kip in the van or drive home after gigs or, if we had a few bob for once, we’d crash out in a local B&B.

Corky might occasionally book somewhere in advance but, nine times out of ten, we’d run offstage, climb into the van, and hare around the streets looking for B&B signs. There’d be six or seven of us, pissed, knocking on a door just before midnight: “Av’ yow got a room, please?”

And it would just be one room. If they’d let us, we’d all squeeze into a double room to save money. Two or three lucky people would get to share the bed and the rest of us would pass out in chairs, on the floor, or in the bath.

These guest houses could be pretty rough and ready. I remember one night, somewhere up north, Corky got us a room. It was the middle of winter and we had no heating. It was so cold that none of us could fall asleep. Ken lay on the floor and rolled himself up in the carpet.

At another place, the landlady’s teenage daughter was prowling around us, excited that we were a band. Nothing happened, but next morning, at breakfast, the landlady went ballistic at us: “I know what you’re after, you bastards! Get out!” We had to leg it without any breakfast.

Once in a blue moon, we’d have a lovely B&B experience. I remember staying in a beautiful place in the Scottish Highlands. The location was idyllic, and the older married couple who ran the place could not have made us more welcome.

We were used to fleapits, but they looked after us so well. The rooms were immaculate, they gave us mountains of breakfast, and as we piled into the van to leave, they serenaded us: “Will ye no come back again?” I was half-expecting them to put on kilts and pipe us out.

When we could afford to stump up for more than one room, and pair up, Ken was usually my roommate. We clicked in that way and rubbed along pretty well. He was a horrible snorer but, then again, so am I. Luckily, we were normally both so pissed that we just passed out.

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