Sanur, Indonesia
Sunday morning, and a chance to take things easy for a few hours, so a little extra sleep to counteract the late night means I miss breakfast. It's too hot to sit in the sun so I stay in the air-conditioned chill of the bedroom until lunchtime.
With an hour left to kill I grab the laptop and go sit in an out of the way spot, intending to catch up on world affairs. I haven't had a moment to switch on a TV or see any news while I've been away, just glimpses here and there of news reports in airports and things I've gleaned from emails back home. The whole Middle East conflagration of Libya, Bahrain and more which has erupted since I left the UK has passed me by almost unnoticed.
I sit down and switch the computer on but before it fires into life I hear a cry of "William!" and discover Bruce hidden behind a large fern. He's been sat reading (Peter Ackroyd's 'Shakespeare' if you're interested) and just seen me through the leaves. I go over for a quick hello, which turns into a full hour of fascinating chat.
Bruce himself had spent the morning surfing the BBC and more, so fills me in on all the world developments which leads into a huge, wide-ranging discussion of politics, insurrection, democracy and more. We move onto flying and before I know it I'm being shown footage and articles about his new passion - hybrid air vehicles, basically a new generation of zeppellin airships.
We could go on forever but I remind him of our lobby call to get to the venue and picking up Matt, Todd and John on the way we hook up with Rod and, flashing lights and sirens fired up, drive the 30 minutes to the Garuda Wisnu Kencana Cultural Park.
Hewn out of rock cliffs this is a spectacular park, populated by enormous statues of Hindu gods, along with gardens, a peace memorial to those who lost their lives in the bombings of 2005 and fabulous views over Bali.
We sweep into the park and as we approach the stage it becomes clear what a breath-taking gig this will be. The stage is bordered by huge cliffs and facing it across the park are massive stone steps leading up to an enormous metal statue of Garuda, with another of Vishnu towering even higher to its left. The ground between will be filled with 7000 fans once doors open.
After a quick look around it's straight into Matt's final interviews. First up is the legendary Dickie Bell, production manager for the band since time began, who has spent the past week in Indonesia making sure these gigs will actually happen. A unique character, part Spike Milligan and part Army major, he runs things with military precision combined with a surreal sense of humour. The crew love and fear him in equal measure - you never make the same mistake twice in front of Dickie.
Matt gets the full lowdown on what it takes to keep a show of this magnitude on the road and the challenges posed by coming to brand new territories and playing epic gigs on a scale unseen before by the locals. Dickie proves a benevolent guide and Matt is let into the inner sanctum of production lore.
With Dickie done, Matt spends 45 minutes doing supplementary interviews with both Rod and Steve to get further reflections on how this leg of the tour has gone and clarify points that were raised in their earlier interviews and which he, having transcribed, wants to explore further.
I spend this time with Rise To Remain who are buzzing having had exciting news from London concerning their future. Wearing huge grins they're all fired-up for the show tonight and can't wait to get up there.
Finally just as they take to the stage, Dave, the guitarist and longest-serving band member other than Steve, arrives to the venue. With there being no backstage area of note, just tents in between the rock faces, we stop him before he leaves his car and Matt hops in with him. With the windows rolled up, it's the only place quiet enough to be able to do an interview, above Rise To Remain's mighty roar.
When Matt and Dave emerge, Matt is wearing a smile that would grace the face of Buddha. We've done it! Over the course of this whirlwind week on the road he's conducted close to 20 interviews, travelled up close and personal in the band's cars and planes, witnessed police escorts, fan hysteria and press conference pandemonium and seen three very different concerts in lands the band have never played before. The only thing left is for him to write a feature out of it all - so as this journey ends his story-telling begins
But first, the final gig. This audience is a mix of locals and tourists with about a third comprising Germans, Brits, Scandinavians and Aussies all mixed in with the Balinese crowd. The night is thick with anticipation and for the first time the smell of weed is in the air. A light and humid breeze blows through the crowd, which means the huge backdrops the band usually perform in front of cannot be hung, but when you're playing somewhere as special as this it doesn't matter.
With the cliff faces acting to amplify the sound, this is the loudest and best the band have sounded on this tour and the crowd go crazy. The Balinese, who are a quiet and almost shy people, seem to be released and jump around wildly cheering and singing along, given an extra boost by the Western tourists more used to massive outdoor rock gigs. In Jakarta they almost didn't know what to do, over-awed by the scale and perhaps afraid of the police dogs and water cannons on visible display. But here that fear evaporates, especially when Bruce launches into a tirade from the stage.
An audience member has been pulled over the crash barrier at the front and the security guards start beating him up. Bruce goes predictably nuts, shouting at them to calm down and leave the poor kid alone. He follows it with an impassioned defence of freedom against oppression, using the example the security have just set to draw parallels with what else is going on in the world. "They mistake joy for anger," he proclaims. And the audience erupts in a spontaneous outbreak of joyful support, maintaining the passion for the rest of the show.
Bruce's mood of defiance may be somewhat exacerbated by the fact he's in pain. In typical fashion, if you present him with an obstacle he rises to the challenge and it transpires that he'd taken one look at the cliffs after we'd arrived and decided he'd have to climb one. Having got about 15 feet up he'd realised they were made of limestone only as his hand hold crumbled and he plummeted back down to earth landing badly.
You'd never know it from the stage as he hurtles around in usual fashion, but back at the hotel later, with a huge dustbin bag of ice for a cushion he shows us the bruise developing on his foot.
And that is it. We are all done. Farewells are exchanged and gratitude given for the access we have been allowed. Tomorrow the band head on to Australia and we fly back to Singapore before connecting to our flight home and our own beds and loved ones. It's been a blast and a week to remember for a very long time to come. The real world now awaits...
