Happy Landings

When Opshop took to the skies to play 10 gigs in a day to help launch New Zealand Music Month, TimeOut's Jacqueline Smith strapped herself in for the long and sometimes bumpy ride.

0515 hours
A very chatty taxi driver takes a very bleary-eyed journalist to Christchurch Airport. He says it's going to be a great day for flying. I can't tell. It's pitch black.

0529 hours
Arrive at Terminal 1, where the first gig is to take place. The band is setting up. I think I'm dreaming.

0558 hours
Radio jocks Jeremy and John shout into the microphone and I rub my ears awake.

0600 hours
Cheers as Opshop take their places to play new single Pins and Needles. "Is that as loud as it goes?" asks singer Jason Kerrison. I move away from the amp as I remember this is gig one of 10. Ten or so fans say they have packed their bags and are ready to tour with Opshop. Two have big canvas "Pick Us" signs and have stuck pins and needles all through their clothes, referencing the new song.

The band play Love Will Always Win and Maybe. Just as a boarding call comes across the loudspeaker, they play their biggest hit, One Day. A few gigs later I will know all the words, even those of the new songs.

0629 hours
The winners are the girls with the pins and needles in their clothes. Turns out they are mother and daughter. They jump up and down and clutch each other, shrieking with excitement. The crew swiftly pack up the instruments, amps and cords - two bass guitars, three acoustic guitars, four electric guitars and a drum kit.

The band start signing autographs. One of the staff at Christchurch Airport gets her T-shirt signed. Will she wear that one to work again? "That would be a negative," she says.

0640 hours
All bags are in the hold. I meet NZ Herald competition winners Nicola Pugh and Lisa Yelverton, both 23, of Nelson. Nicola is excited about staying in Auckland after we touch down up north

0715 hours
Wheels up. As well as the four band members, their instruments, and the sound crew, the plane holds 10 competition winners, a pilot, a hostess, and plenty of people to read schedules and document the journey. The sun rises behind us as we take off across the Rakaia River. Breakfast is muesli or a muffin and a little pottle of water.

0730 hours
Touch down in Timaru on a runway rolled out between paddocks. The sun is rising. Stunning.

0739 hours
Board the bus. It's cold. And the Aucklanders are under-dressed.

0755 hours
We spill out of the bus and into a school hall. Yup, most people are wearing beanies and fleeces. About 200 dedicated fans have turned up before their Saturday winter sports games. The stage has a painted backdrop of London burning, which must be for the school play. Kerrison asks whether anyone has any honey - his voice has eight gigs to get through. Three people race off (home, presumably) to get him some.

0815 hours
Realise we are ahead of schedule. Hands start swaying to One Day. We are told to learn that the song is our cue to race back to the bus.

0849 hours
Back on the runway and back into the wild blue yonder.

0920 hours
Somewhere above the snow-capped Southern Alps, with clouds hovering in the pockets of valleys and the blue of the West Coast in the distance, the band starts strumming. We sing Happy Birthday to event organiser Jackie. For their set, Kerrison sings into the intercom telephone which has been strapped upside-down to a pole with duct tape. Suitably, they open with Levitate. Not the best acoustics - he sounds sort of fluffy, like an air hostess sounds over the intercom. Bobby Kennedy's light drumming shakes the plane a little.

0925 hours
The pilot's door is opened so he can join in the party - "keep your eyes on the road", Kerrison warns. We all sing along to a cover of the Exponents' Why Does Love Do This To Me? - and as if we aren't tone deaf enough, our ears are blocked. Lucky we're all friends now. "We are going to go down - in the nicest way possible," Kerrison says, so the band ends gig number three with No Ordinary Thing. The lyric "I was fallin', I was fallin' from the greatest highs" prompts some shifting in seats and sideways glances.

0931 hours
The seatbelt sign comes on and we all buckle up for Hokitika.

0950 hours
It's off the plane and on to a bus with seats as green as the West Coast landscape. Our hostess and pilot jump on board too, wearing Opshop T-shirts.

1000 hours
We pull into the main street of Hokitika which has been blocked off. A young band of local indie rockers called Desolution Whim are opening. They have opened for Opshop several times and hope to be as famous one day. There's a raffle; first prize is a trailer of wood, second prize is a trailer of coal and third prize is a box of Woodstocks. Amanda and Jeremy Ewan have popped across from Greymouth - it's not often there's such a big band in town other than at the Wild Foods Festival. They say we're lucky with the crisp, cloudless weather. It has been raining all week (really? never! we say). Amie Cowlishaw has brought her two kids - aged 6 months and 9 - to rock out. "New Zealand music is the best by far," she says. The concert was "ka pai".

1055 hours
We want to stay, but are bundled into the plane. Sally Lunns for morning tea. It feels like the afternoon.

1130 hours
We approach sunny Nelson - and yes, it is very sunny -and land with a little bump. Transport to the gig is a red double-decker bus.

1205 hours
Arrive at the beautiful, wooden Nelson School of Music which has a giant pipe organ at the front and the heads of revered musicians adorning the walls. Last week a group of Japanese exchange students filled the hall with cellos and pianos. Now it's time to make dust fall from the roof.

About 450 people fill the theatre. Sophie Young, 8, is right into it, playing drums on her dad's head; another kid has his fingers in his ears. If the crowd jumps high enough they will get to be in the music video for Love Will Always Win. As far as jumping goes, it appears Nelson will always win.

1313 hours
We are on the plane but running late because a bunch of journos and the talent stopped at the airport cafe for another caffeine hit. Cough, cough.

1330 hours
We are passed grabaseat sweat bands and I look even more like Justin Bieber.

1358 hours
We land in W(h)anganui. The runway is lined with fans, some tossing a rugby ball on the tarmac. It appears every resident and his dog has turned out. An estimate of the crowd is 1000 people. It might have been bigger if the gig didn't fall right in the middle of the important provincial rugby matches. Some of the children have come after their games. Jack McCoubrie, 9, would have been at the front jumping around but all his muscles ache after a hard game. He loves Opshop though. Last time they were in town he got bassist Clint Harris to sign his T-shirt. 80-year-old Allan Turner has been brought along by his grandson-in-law. In his 77 years living in Wanganui he has never seen a concert on the tarmac. Actually, he has never heard of Opshop.

1418 hours
Still sound-checking. The band is in the plane. They were scheduled to play at 2.05pm.

1422 hours
The boys do a "black steel" strut across the tarmac to the stage. And, in keeping with the rockstar entrance, they play a wild set with Kerrison and guitarist Matt Treacy jumping on the furniture (amps).

1515 hours
Back on the plane, still running a bit behind schedule. Mega-fan Tess Farley, who won the grabaseat prize, has baked a bacon and egg pie with Opshop written across the top in pastry. She passes it down the plane. Hits the spot.

1545 hours
We arrive in Napier and the boys climb into a Hummer limo. So Hollywood. We hop on on a double-decker party-bus with techno remixes and drive to Hastings. We are joined by Lily Fern and Ashleigh Foster, both 12, who have pretty much all their CDs.

1615 hours
We arrive at the Opera House. The skies are losing colour. In One Day, Charlie Rodgers, 11, hops on stage to lead the audience in a mass wave. He is at his friend Josh's 12th birthday party. Opshop-themed obviously.

1652 hours
Back in the bus listening to techno, breathing in the burnt autumn colours of Hawkes Bay. One groupie moons passing cars. No wonder we haven't been served any R18 beverages yet.

1715 hours
Shivering as we walk across the tarmac. It's raining. We are half-an-hour behind schedule now. Groupies start talking about running on empty energy.

1740 hours
Turbulence (I think that's what it says on my notepad).

1750 hours
Our most beautiful but bumpy landing. The sunset hits the arc of rain spinning of the propeller and lights up a barge off the coast of Gisborne.

1803 hours
In bus.

1815 hours
Arrive at the Poverty Bay Club, the sign says the gig is at 5.15. Red carpet, wooden walls, and the smell of hops. This is the kind of venue Opshop are used to performing in.

1833 hours
"The first beer of the day happens to be a Gizzy Gold," says Kerrison as he climbs on stage. There's plenty of hair flying in the front row of the gig and each song is met by wild screeches from the females. "Sh*t that was fun," Kerrison says.

1845 hours
We hear a rumour that we are stranded in Gisborne.

1938 hours
Turns out we hit a flock of sparrows on take-off from Napier and one got stuck in the engine. The plane is (expletive)d. We can't fly it to Hamilton. A new one, plus crew, has been ordered from Auckland but we'll have to skip the Hamilton gig. The Hamilton competition winners, who we were supposed to pick up and take to the after-party, are instead being driven to Auckland. We eat leftover cold Subway.

1955 hours
Arrive back at Gisborne Airport. It is closed. We turn on the lights and open a box of beer (we are all over 18, it's okay).

2009 hours
Our bags come off the plane. The band strikes up gig number nine.

2045 hours
I am now part of Opshop.

2100 hours
Kerrison has summoned the plane.

2140 hours
Mass cheers on take-off. We were supposed to arrive at 9.15. Would Treacy care to supply a quote? "Are we there yet?" he asks.

2240 hours
Final touch-down. Slumped on a chair next to the baggage carousel, Kerrison says he is feeling "expletive"d. He's been sipping honey in water all day but when he talks, his voice sounds like he's swallowed wood shavings. Did he know it was going to be this hard? "Yes, but we were up for it anyway," he says.

"I've got nothing on tomorrow and don't intend to do anything ever again."

It was a bummer to miss out on Hamilton, let alone that Hamilton had to miss out on them, but it was great to play homage to some Kiwi songs in Gisborne Airport, he says. And the hour in the plane was good. He meditated, he says.

2309 hours
In the bus for the last time. Harris has tendinitis. It kicked in at the 6am gig in Christchurch. He's been through a packet of Nurofen.

2315 hours
Arrive at Butterfly Creek, two hours late. It's packed. The groupies feel a bit overwhelmed so check out the massive crocodile to get us in the mood. He does not look happy with the music selection. But it's okay, everyone else seems more than happy.

2345 hours
Band on.

0000 hours
Ebony Brewin, the groupie from Christchurch, is brought on stage to sing back-up vocals for Maybe.

0010 hours
Kerrison seems to have his second wind. He's jumping off the amps and making shadow shapes in the light from the projector. Jeremy the groupie and Rock DJ jumps on stage to sing April Sun in Cuba and Forever Tuesday Morning.

0045 hours
Ten gigs, one day, down.

0230 hours
Sleep.

LOWDOWN

Who: Opshop; Jason Kerrison on guitar and lead vocals, Matt Treacy on guitar, Bobby Kennedy on drums and Clint Harris on bass.

What: Ten gigs in one day to mark the tenth year of NZ Music Month.

Latest: Single Pins and Needles released last week, ahead of their album Until The End Of Time, out on August 2.

Watch: The band's story documented on TV3 at 10.25pm this Sunday, tracking their journey from zero to hero.