Rentrée 2007, Lagardère Active, propriétaire de la radio Europe 2 qui change de format et de slogan comme de chemises, annonce le changement de nom de cette radio en “Virgin Radio” suite à un accord avec Richard Branson, propriétaire de la marque. Christophe Sabot avait même annoncé à la presse “Nous allons ringardiser NRJ” (il ne savait pas à cette époque qu’il allait quitter le navire pour (re)rejoindre NRJ justement !).

Les concurrentes musicales avaient fait appel au CSA parce qu’elles avaient peur que Virgin vienne piocher dans leurs parts d’audience. Mais elles ne se sont pas inquiétées bien longtemps…

Janvier 2008, Virgin Radio est lancée en grandes pompes, mais on remarque que rien n’a changé par rapport à sa “maman” Europe 2. Résultats : les audiences sont plutôt bonnes, mais dans la lignée d’Europe 2 (vers les 6 points), sans remontée spectaculaire, qui était attendue avec la forte marque “Virgin”.

Rentrée 2008, changement d’équipe à la direction (Au revoir Christophe Sabot, bonjour Sam Zniber), et gros gros changements pour Virgin : habillage, slogan, programmation, jusqu’à la prononciation de “Virgin” à la française, tout a changé. Et là c’est le drame, Virgin dégringole dans les sondages, et se rapproche dangereusement de RTL2. Il faut dire que l’électro-rock est mis à l’honneur, ce qui ne plaît pas tellement à nos jeunes adultes, cible de la radio.

Premier semestre 2009, re-changement dans la direction (oui il faut suivre là) avec l’arrivée de Gaël Sanquer, on remarque une amélioration avec une prise en considération des critiques des auditeurs. Malheureusement, cela ne durera pas longtemps, pendant l’été re-re-changement, avec un nouveau slogan qui fait son apparition, une programmation + gold, et + pop-rock, dont on a du mal à voir la différence avec celle de RTL2. Le pire, c’est le changement radical d’animateurs, seuls 3 sont conservés (et encore, ce n’était pas les plus anciens, et ne sont pas beaucoup mis en avant dans la grille).

La rentrée 2009 se fait donc sans surprise dans la confusion totale. Des éléments positifs certes, mais pas mal de points négatifs également :

En positif, on note la nouvelle matinale dirigée par Bruno Guillon qui nous fait vite oublier “l’erreur” de Cauet la saison précédente. Il y a également l’émission “Ca part en live” qui nous apprend plein de choses sur le rock avec Tidav et l’excellentissime Thomas Caussé (dommage qu’il ne soit pas mis en avant dans la grille).

En négatif, des animateurs trop djeun’s qui contrastent avec la programmation qui s’est ramollie, des jingles remplacés par des liners, des tops horaire qui se lancent à H58 (très logique), tout ça pour raccourcir les infos locales à 2mn, alors qu’il s’agissait d’un vrai plus de la radio. D’ailleurs en parlant des locales, elles se plaignent d’être mal informées (ou trop tard tout du moins) concernant les décisions du siège national (ce qui se ressent un peu quand on écoute la radio).

On est quand même assez loin de l’esprit Virgin, on verra ce que donnent les résultats d’audience en fin d’année, je pense (ou en tout cas j’espère) qu’ils vont remonter, mais si aucune petite amélioration n’est effectuée, ils peuvent toujours rêver d’atteindre les 9 points !

Voici les améliorations que j’attends :

- Une programmation + rock
- Un top horaire toutes les heures et à heure pile
- Des infos locales plus longues
- Des avis demandés sur Facebook pris en compte

Ça va, je demande pas beaucoup de choses

Mise à jour du 27 août :

J’ai oublié le plus important : l’excellent site non-officiel de Virgin Radio (sur lequel vous pouvez retrouver tous les jingles, tout l’historique, et un forum de passionés d’Europe 2/Virgin Radio), Virgini.fr, a lancé sa propre webradio qui montre ce que serait le meilleur format pour Virgin Radio, en ne reprenant que les points positifs des différents formats qui ont défilé sur Europe 2/Virgin Radio ! A écouter d’urgence ! Bon bien sûr, cette webradio est toute jeune et n’a pas d’animateurs, mais des programmes commencent à faire leur apparition.

Well, I did end up going to the shisha bar the night of my last post. When I got back we found out that it was outdoors, not in doors like I thought it would be, so then the fear of being in a room filled with smoke was gone. So a couple of us headed out to find the rest of the group. The alleyways were basically outdoor lounge areas, with piles of cushions set out that people were sitting on, with tables in between with the hookahs sitting on top. Went a while not trying, and wasn’t going to, then figured I might as well since I’m only in Istanbul once (this month – since now I plan to go back). The one I tried was apple. Don’t worry though, it wasn’t good enough to make me want to make smoking flavoured tobacco a habit.

After a little while there was talk of people going for piercings, even though it was something like 1 in the am. So as the group was waiting down at the street, they started talking to Atty, a guy working at the shisha bar at the corner by our hotel. He knew a guy who knew a guy and called him and the guy was going to come there to do it. Signals got crossed and a tattoo guy showed up. That’s when I went to bed, because the rest then had to hop in a cab with Atty to go to the piercing studio. Which to me sounded a lot safer than a guy coming to the alley. In the end it turned out the place was closed (at 2am? really? I know I was shocked). Was glad I went to bed.

Got up in the am and went on a walking tour of Istanbul. Saw the Hagia Sofia (which was originally a mosque and was converted into a museum in the 1930s and was for centuries the largest enclosed space in the world) and went in the Blue Mosque (which is called Sultanahmet Mosque there). Had to wear a wrap around my legs because I was wearing shorts and you can’t have too much leg exposed.

From there we walked around and saw where the Hippodrome was (which I would understand apparently if I saw Ben-Hur – yet another movie I need to watch now), where we tasted some Turkish Delight. Mmmm pistachio. It was pretty good, so I bought a box to take home, since I know dad will like that. After that we went to a Turkish carpet company where they gave a brief description on how they make carpets and then showed us a bunch. The silk ones were so very soft. Would have bought one had the price tag not made me choke on my tongue. It was small, and the price was big. Some were thousands of US dollars. Not for me, no siree.

Once we left there, some of us decided that instead of going to the Grand Bazaar, they would go get the previously drunkenly planned piercings in Taksim. Since that seemed like way too much fun to pass up watching, I went along. Someone had to document the multiple eyebrow piercings, ear piercings, tongue piercings, foot (yes, foot) piercing, oh and the scrotum piercing. Yes, you read that right and I shall not repeat it again to make the point. Didn’t actually see that piercing as it happened, but have seen the aftermath, but I’m sure it looks different when everything else isn’t strategically strewn aside and moved around so as to hide ones naughty bits. It was definitely a different day.

They didn’t have time right away so we had to go out and explore for an hour. I went with Steve so he could find some shorts, and we never did. Found some iced coffee and chatted a bit about how we would never have kids together because apparently I don’t pick good names (since it was his mother’s name). Eventually everyone got holes punched in them and one tattoo done. The girls didn’t need anyone holding their hands, but some of the boys did. One may have actually shed some tears, depends on who you believe. At this point we headed back to the hotel area, where some of the guys went to get a cut throat shave. I decided to watch because it seemed neat. They used the straight blade, then on some they’d either wax or thread the small hairs on the upper cheeks and forehead. And they’d use this little fireball to burn the hairs off their ears. It was awesome to watch and i had the opportunity to actually do it, but passed up and Mitch did instead. Did however have the guy demonstrate the threading on my cheek then ask if I wanted my moustache done. Cue exit left. I passed.

At this point I went across the alley to go see how Sian’s haircut was going. Good or bad move, I’m undecided. The woman knew about 4 english words, one of which was “Ugly” which she said while pointing at my hair. So she got another sale because I let her cut mine as well. Turned out ok, but will have to get Em to fix it. Strangely it’s a cut I’ve had before.

Went back to the hotel and fixed my hair (since it was all flipped out in weird directions – still not as bad as the texas cheerleader cut I got in South Carolina though), and we headed out to our Turkish dinner – complete with belly dancing. It was a good show. Had never seen it live before. Some of the ladies were better than others, and I thought one was even pregnant.

From here some of the group went out and others went back. I decided to try going out, but it didn’t last long. The place we were at had a guy singing with a computer playing the music and strangely he got offended when Sian asked if it was karaoke. Apparently it was not. So when two of the boys decided to leave, I went as well. The rest of the group didn’t end up being too far behind.

The next morning I got up (eventually) and went out for lunch. Got done too late and decided to skip the boat tour I was going to take (also because I realized the price I was given was euros, not lira and it was way too much money), and Steve and Chris and I went with the girls to the Grand Bazaar. Walked around and only bought postcards, which I’m now disappointed by. Should have got something neat, but didn’t. Not even a fridge magnet or shot glass. Chris on the other hand, likes shopping. And has a mean sense of direction. I would have gotten lost and usually that’s my job.

We went back to the hotel to meet up with the group to go for our Turkish Baths at 5. That was awesome. You strip down and go into a sauna with a huge marble slab in the middle (men in one room, women in another). You lay there for a while until one of the ladies (also topless or wearing a bathing suit) is ready for you. Then you ditch the towel and she scrubs you down, every once in a while putting foam and bubbles on you and slapping you on the ass to make you turn over. Then you go over to the taps and they use a bucket to rinse you off and wash your hair. From there I went to the Jacuzzi room for a bit, then out to wait for my oil massage. At this point I had no towel and was just walking around in my panties. After a bit you stop covering up the girls though, because everyone has seen them at this point. Got the massage, where I was again slapped on the ass when I had to turn over. It was pretty good. Except the oil in the hair and on the face when those were massaged. Have had pimples ever since because i couldn’t get the damn stuff off. Had to go back for a shower before supper because I went to dry my hair at the bath and realized it wouldn’t dry because it was all oil.

Got ready quickly and headed out with a group for one of the other Canadian girl’s birthday. We ate at a restuarant under the Galata Bridge that someone had found earlier. Sadly, I ordered based on what they’d agreed to give us a deal on, not realizing it was one of those fish with it’s head still on. But I ate it anyway, it was pretty good. Just creepy with the cloudy beady eye staring at me as though it was saying I was a very mean person. Or at least that was my interpretation.

Made our way back to the hotel where we went to sleep for the night for the last time in Istanbul. I really enjoyed it there. The locals were all really nice, and as long as you didn’t take it seriously, the men constantly being sleazy was actually pretty funny. It was a beautiful place and I am so glad that Deanna wants to go there so she promoted it when I was picking! And very grateful for Michelle’s husband’s advice.

Will try to write about Bulgaria, Serbia and Hungary tomorrow, and maybe even Vienna (which was beautiful as well). After paragliding and trout fishing of course.

My emaıl to dad today, sınce I mıss the guy and for some reason that’s completely unfathomable to most people, I thınk he mısses me.

NOTE: thıs ıs the second post today. I know, I’m amazıng, two posts ın one day.

Dear Daddy

How goes ıt? I’m ın Istanbul rıght now. We passed the Puddıng Shop from Mıdnıght Express on our way to our hotel. Kınd of wısh I’d seen the movıe now. Or Gladıator before goıng to Rome, or the Brad Pıtt Troy movıe before goıng to Troy or Mamma Mıa before Greece, etc. Oh well, now I can watch them and say ‘hey I saw that’ lıke I should do ıf I eventually watch Mıdnıght ın the Garden of Good and Evıl. Hahaha.

From Here we go to Sofıa, Bulgarıa. One nıght there then Belgrade, Serbıa, then Budapest then Vıenna. Hungary I thınk ıs the fırst place I can actually phone from agaın ıf I can’t fınd a phone card to buy. MTS doesn’t have deals wıth the other countrıes. I’m really lookıng forward to the classıcal concert ın Vıenna. I know, geeky, but I have to ınject some culture ınto me other than the natıonal drınks of each country.

Can’t belıeve ıt ıs only another 16 days but at the same tıme I’d be fıne goıng now ıf ıt wasn’t for the hang glıdıng ın Austria. Mıght even spark up a fatty ın Amsterdam. Haven’t decıded yet. Dıdn’t lıke ıt the other tımes I trıed, but when ın Rome… (or Amsterdam). I wıll probably not get a hooker ın the Red Lıght Dıstrıct though. I do draw the lıne at when ın Romıng somewhere. I thınk hookers are ıt.

Everyone ıs out at a seesha bar tonıght, which I also would have trıed were ıt not for the ragıng cold that I’m fınally kıckıng. No more countrıes beıng coughed up though.

Saw a Massey today at ANZAC Cove. Took pıctures. No numbers on ıt, so I have no ıdea what model, but knowıng you you,ll fınd a bolt ın the pıcture that wıll tell you the year or somethıng. Or based on the headlıghts. Or maybe that’s just how you tell your dodges apart.

Heard you’re goıng fıshıng. Catch lots. I want some. But take the heads off. Seen enough of the non beheaded ones lately.

Love you Lots,
Angıe
The older, shorter one that you haven’t seen sınce May 4th. In case you forgot already.

I made it to my first destination on trip ‘Angie Goes to Europe and It’s Never the Same Again.’ Although I’m somewhat surprised I did. I did think that I’d slept through my stop at Berwick, and started to panic a wee bit since I didn’t know when or where the next stop would be. I should not have been that shocked that I fell asleep. After all, I did sleep on the tour of Edinburgh that I went on to kill time. In the seat next to the tour guide. When I went to leave the bus he said he thought about waking me up, but figured I was probably pretty jet lagged. Which I am. Maybe not really sleeping Sunday in the hopes that I would be able to sleep on the plane was not such a good idea. Maybe it would have been, had the flight not been from 3pm until 11 our time…then again, when has the time of day ever stopped me from falling asleep? Lol.

Forgot to add in the last post that the woman I met actually knew where Elm Creek was. Not only knew where it was, but knew people from there. Not just knew people from there, but the person she knew was the one who had the job I just had at the RM a few years ago. How’s that for a small world?

After I last posted we wandered around the airport a bit more, after having already wandered some. Then we went to our gate and couldn’t figure out when or where we were supposed to get in, only to find that our gate had change, and we now had to trek all the way back to where we came from in the first place. This was when I also realized I’ve never been in a country before where I don’t know the native language (or am able to get by enough to claim I know it, like with France). I was rather happy that they announce everything in English as well, because I’m a little rusty with my Dutch. Rusty as in don’t know a word. Given the huge Dutch population we have at home, i should have asked for some lessons. Then again, i don’t know what kind of words i’d be taught, based on the people I know.

Slept most of that plane ride (since I always sleep well on the short ones), which was not overly cool, given that I was in a middle seat and thus had to sleep with my head back, which caused my mouth to be open the whole time. I’m sure i was pretty attractive. At least I didn’t wake up with drool running down my chin or because I was snoring (both of which usually happen when I nap FYI).

Got into Edinburgh and made it through customs. Good thing I had my tour itinerary so that i had at least one address to give for where I’m staying, because I sure wasn’t smart enough to get Dawn’s address. Or give her my phone number for that matter. Not that the phone number matters much, since my phone is about as useful as snowshoes on a camel right now. But don’t get me started on that paper weight, unless you want to be reading a few four letter words interspersed with other ones that end with -ing. Not only did they not fix my phone, but the kid wiped out my contacts and I still have the courtesy phone and it doesn’t get any service here.

Strange thing about the customs and security is that this time I did not get searched or pulled aside. The time I have mom with me on my carryon, and nothing. That to me is the equivalent of having a bag of pot and not getting searched, although I think I’d have an easier time getting myself out of the mom thing than pot. Oh well, she’s here now and she’s staying and they’re too late to deny her at the border.

One thing I love about Europe is how accessable they make everything. They have a shuttle bus that takes you from the airport in Edinburgh, right to the train station down town all for £3.50. In winnipeg the best you can do is a cab for $15 or $20, or two or three stinky icky buses. So needless to say I had no problem getting to my train from the airport. But since it was only 10:30 am and I wasn’t due in Berwick until 5, I figured I’d kill some time. Found the Left Luggage counter, checked my bags (for £7), sat around for an hour trying to figure out what to eat and what to do and what day it was and what time it was in which time zone, then decided to go on the above mentioned tour once I got outside and saw the rain.

Once my tour/nap was done, I went back, got my bags and went to find the right platform for my next train/nap and eventually made it here to Dawn and Mark’s. Where I haven’t napped yet. Steven stopped by, as did Glynnice and Dave, and I’ll be spending the day with Glynnice tomorrow, since I have ond day I can’t use my rail pass (or I can’t get to London on Saturday), and tomorrow was the best day for her. I’m looking forward to it, we had fun last time. Or at least I did, guess I shouldn’t speak for her.

Time to get this damn sports bra (since Dawn and I are starting to think that might be causing the numb arms), have a shower then hit the hay. Hopefully I will get on the right time zone, and not just get a fourth wind and be unable to sleep. I can sleep when I’m not supposed to, but can’t when I’m supposed to. I don’t like following rules.

Night Night, sleep tight.

Angie

Well, I haven’t misplaced a boarding pass, missed a flight or been yelled at by anyone, so it’s looking like a successful trip so far. I’ve made it to Amsterdam, and have another hour until boarding my flight to Edinburgh. Some time between now and then I have to figure out if I’ll have the energy to tour the city when I get there, or if I’ll do it another day. It still feels like Monday to me, I guess since it really is only 1am Tuesday at home.

Had an interesting day Monday, was standing around the boarding area, wasting time since I was through customs in less than 10 minutes and had two freaking hours to kill, and then someone walks up to me. And who was it you ask? Mr. Trevor Coates (yes, I called him Mr. – it will be the one and only time). To say I was happy is an understatement. Hadn’t seen him since I left Wellington, and on my way in had actually been thinking I wished I’d told him and Blaine I was going to Europe again. So this way I got to tell him in person. He was on the same flight to Minneapolis as me since his got cancelled due to a West Jet plane knocking the stairs into the Northwest plane and basically making it not safe to leave the ground (Shaun, was that you? lol). So Trevor and I made plans to meet up when the plane landed and we’d do lunch. Sadly when we got there, he saw that his original connecting flight hadn’t left yet, so he was able to make it and we couldn’t do lunch anymore. Oh well, I guess he’ll just have to take a drive out for a round of golf (all the way down the highway this time – poor guy had to run into me the day after golfing at Bridges and felt way too much guilt to keep it a secret).

So I hoped on a tram to the right area of the airport and wandered around a bit trying to find a restaurant near my gate with food that wasn’t fried. Found one, had the most awesome bbq chicken salad ever, and when I was almost done, a woman asked to sit with me. Turns out she was on my flight from Winnipeg too, and recognized me. Once we got talking we realized we are on all three of the same flights. So it’s been great to have someone to talk to (especially about Scotland), and also odds are better you won’t get lost with two people. Unless you both forget your next departure gate number, but as we’ve found out, there are always more screens with the departures on them.

Flight from Minne to Amsterdam was ok, other than thinking I was dieing. I believe I am currently suffering from low blood pressure, because no matter what I di