the room is dark and damp, lit only by tiny fairy lights and a bar sign saying 'blues'.
we walk in, unsure of what we have stumbled across.
seemingly quiet and unpopular, we take a drink and sit at the lonely bar.
warm up takes a while and the antiquated compare appears to know something about the old joint.
time passes slowly, and the bar beings to fill.
an extensive list of locals and new comers starts compiling and before you know it,
we can't move to get a drink.
the 'jam time' starts and feet start tapping,
hands keep the beat and mouths are filling in the gaps.
this room full of 'musos' and mates soon to be have something in common.
addicted to the feel of the instrument... of the crowds applause,
of the passion that unites cultures and people of all ages
the blues bar on a sunday jam session...
a unique feeling and nothing quite like it.
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