Jacksonville, FL
It's a beautiful morning, hot and sunny, and with the usual disruptions that crossing the Atlantic brings, I'm awake far too early. So I take advantage of the fact to run along the riverfront before the heat of the sun makes such feats impossible.
The glinting light from the water dances upon the metal bridges that span the St Johns River, and as I jog along I take in the postcard views that enthral for one day, but no doubt diminish rapidly with familiarity.
Various signposts detail the area's history, proudly announcing itself as 'The First Coast', being the earliest part of the North American land mass discovered and inhabited by Westerners. The Spanish explorer Jose Ponce de Leon landed here on April 2nd 1513 - Easter Sunday - in the nearby town of Saint Augustine, displacing the local Timuqua Indians and naming what he thought was a large island as La Florida, the Place of Flowers, due to all the tropical vegetation.
Owned by the Spanish for two centuries and fought over by France, the British eventually claimed Florida from Spain in 1763 in exchange for Cuba. The state remained loyal to Britain during the American Revolution but the British grew bored of it, due to its reputation for pirates and American revolutionaries. Eventually in 1818 the American Major General Andrew Jackson seized control of Florida and in 1821 the state became part of the American Union with Jackson as governor, naming the city after himself. As you do.
And now, 500 years later, Jacksonville is apparently the largest city in the Americas with its municipality stretching a whopping 842 square miles and playing host to three US Naval bases, with the Navy proving the largest employer in the region. It's a somewhat unbelievable fact as the downtown area we're staying in appears pretty small, and deathly dull, with not a sailor in sight. Just a bunch of fellow joggers pounding up and down the couple of miles of sidewalk that adjoin the river. But boy, it must have quite some suburbs hidden out there in those forests we flew over.
Once back at the hotel I join Paul and Eleanor for breakfast and find out that the missing bag has arrived. Paul has his batteries and Eleanor her knickers, so both are relieved in equal measure, and we head straight back out to scout the local area for suitable locations to shoot the band this afternoon.
We pop into their hotel and bump into tour manager Chuck in the lobby who I've not seen in three years. It's fortuitous timing and plans are agreed there and then, giving us three hours or so to kill until the band are ready. Chuck declares what we already know, namely that there's absolutely nothing to do in this town, so we return to our hotel and Eleanor and I go and sit by the pool while Paul goes for a nap to try and shift his headache.
The rooftop pool area is spartan and very noisy due to the huge groaning and shuddering aircon unit situated right by it, so any thoughts of chilling out are rapidly disabused. Instead we spend our time watching one of the bridges slowly raise itself to allow boats through, and then close itself back down. Truly, that is the most exciting thing to happen in Jacksonville!
But of course, the main event is still to come; Welcome To Rockville, headlined by Alice In Chains. So after lunch (a very disappointing shrimp po'boy) we return to the band's hotel and meet Cathy, a local groomer I've hired, and Todd, the band's day to day road assistant.
Cathy heads up to Todd's room to help the band prepare for the shoot while we go outside and set up Paul's equipment. And twenty minutes later the four band members appear, led along the sidewalk by singer and my namesake, Mr William DuVall, the coolest man on the planet.
All four guys clasp hands and give me a hug, catching up on news and reactions to their album since I saw them a few weeks ago in LA. And then we're straight into action, Paul snapping away while Eleanor and I keep hold of his lights to prevent the gusts of wind toppling them straight on to the band.
In just over an hour we're done, kept entertained by drummer Sean's non-stop banter and main-man Jerry's ready wit, while bassist Mike beams the happy smiles of one of nature's gentle and most engaging souls. They really are a joy to be around and far from the perception of hurt and pain that their music is often taken for.
Once finished, Todd hands us our artist passes and accreditation and we take our leave, returning to our hotel to dump the lights and get a cab onto the festival site.
It's 6pm when we arrive there and bump straight into the British band Young Guns who are charming and fill us in on the fun they've been having on tour in the US. Then Paul espies an old friend Stef, the wife of Slipknot's Corey Taylor, who is tour managing a couple of bands including Corey's other project Stone Sour who are on today's bill.
Eleanor and I leave them chatting while we head across to hospitality which is bizarrely situated right behind the open main stage, so we can all eat and drink at tables and chat to fellow guests, whilst watching the bands from behind. It's quite a weird but entertaining set up. All around us are various bands in varying stages of tattooed rockdom including Brit metallers Bullet For My Valentine, and in the corner above us is a temporary tattoo parlour for bands who want to add to their collection of ink.
I'm momentarily tempted to take a place in the chair and surprise my husband with his initials freshly emblazoned on my wrist, but I'm saved from that desire by Todd who's come to find us, to tell us that Jerry's decided he wants to do his interview right now, rather than tomorrow over lunch as planned.
It turns out that lead singer William wants to do the same, and then the band are going to hop on their tourbuses and drive overnight to Georgia rather than stay in Jacksonville.
I can't say I blame them as there's nothing really to keep anyone in this city if they don't need to, but unfortunately Eleanor's not brought her interview notes on site as we were expecting to be spending a few hours with the band tomorrow.
I volunteer to go back to the hotel, so Chuck and Todd find me a driver and off I go with Eleanor's room key to grab her things. The driver races back through the festival traffic, guards waving us through security at every gate, and I run over to the band's tour buses where Jerry and Will are waiting.
Paul snaps some pics of them warming up for the performance before Eleanor goes through the hallowed portals and into the inner sanctum of a mega rock band on tour. I wait outside with an eye on the clock, aware that the band usually like to be on lockdown for a good 90 minutes before the show but knowing that she needs at least an hour to complete these chats.
Jerry and Will are perfect gentlemen though and each give up their time, meaning that it's just ten minutes before showtime that we have to call a halt to proceedings and Eleanor has got all she needed and more.
A quick 'comfort break' later and Paul gets into position in the photographer's pit while Eleanor and I head into the crowd. The smell of weed blows through the sunburnt hordes who've been jumping up and down to Limp Bizkit's homecoming performance but are now filled with anticipation for the headliners, and by God, AIC don't disappoint.
This is a greatest hits set peppered with a couple of tracks from the new album, and the crowd go nuts. From openers 'Them Bones' and 'Dam That River' we're straight into newie 'Hollow' and the staggeringly queasy riff of 'Check My Brain' from their last album.
Eleanor and I go up on stage and watch the rest of the set from the wings as 'Down In A Hole', 'Angry Chair' and 'Man In A Box' blast their grinding power out. But it's 'Rooster' and closing number 'Would' that induce the biggest singalongs of the night, timeless classics performed by a band that have never sounded better.
As the guys come off stage, all big smiles and handshakes, Eleanor, Paul and I are grinning happily having just been privileged to witness a great show in front of thousands of people in a very up close and personal way. What a night.
Back at our hotel later we rest aching feet, sun-kissed skin and tired bones in the bar for a wee nightcap, very happy that we've got everything in the bag in one day rather than the expected two. It may have made things a lot more stressful and tiring but tomorrow we are free to lie-in and chill out rather than be faced with a round of interviews so we roll up to bed at 1am, exhausted but buzzing.
Sleep comes in mere seconds...
