Chromeo Day 18/19, Brussels, BEL, Then Flight to NYC.
This was a long one. It started with a ferry back to the main island of the UK, a drive across the southeast, a ferry to France, then a drive up to Belgium. The first ferry ride was uneventful, the second was a lesson in turbulence. It was beyond rocky, to the point where one of our guys was sitting down, white-knuckled, and very, very green. It was pretty amazing. The other highlight of the voyage was another one of us finding a crushed bug in a roll of toilet paper. It doesn't really take a whole lot to amuse us.
Aside from that, the 11hr drive was pretty uneventful. We pulled in to Brussels pretty much on schedule and proceeded to set up for the show which was on the roof of a parking garage. It was special.
After soundcheck, we got to the hotel quickly to drop our bags and then went out walking. We were right by the Grote Market, which is one of my favourite places in the world, so I had to see it. It was particularly awesome tonight because there was a massive beer festival in the square. People were stumbling, screaming, chanting, cheering and, of course, drinking. It was amazing. Of course, given our luck, we got there too late to buy tickets, so all we could do was watch. We ended up sitting down at a patio just around the corner to have some dinner, talked for a bit to the people at the table next to us about the history of war in Europe, checked out the square one last time and headed back for the final show of the tour.
It went pretty well once again, but only after our tour manager literally kicked the dj off the stage so we could start. The dj had 3 warnings... He was not a happy dj. Security sided with our tour manager though, and the dj was escorted away. Eventually they worked things out and an all-out rumble was avoided. After the show we didn't hang out too long, because in the spirit of living the dream, we got right back in to the van to drive to London. Yes, we though it was insane too.
So we drove through the night. We dropped one guy at Gatwick, and me and one more at Heathrow. In theory, it was good to get dropped off at the airport. In practice, it was ridiculous. I got dropped at 9am because the guy at Gatwick had an early flight. My flight was at 4:30pm. This is one of the cons of my job.
I tried to move my flight up, but no go. Not for $250. I considered going in to the city, but I was burnt from the overnight drive to make it worthwhile. So I gave up. I checked in, went through security and began the wait. I somehow found a quiet area, which I didn't think existed in Heathrow, and sat in a chair for 7 hours. I did not get up once, and I didn't really care. I was too tired to move. There were a few other people around me who had been waiting almost as long. It was funny to watch them all try to sleep or read with no success whatsoever. I was in the same boat though. It was a whole lot of no good. I decided to just turn off my brain and do some people watching. I was pretty dazed from the whirlwind of driving the last couple days, so my goal was easily achieved. Eventually, around 3pm, I started feeling alive again, and I ended up talking with someone across from me for a while before I had to go to my gate.
The flight itself was painless. No screaming babies!!! I guess I finally earned a quiet flight. I couldn't sleep to save my life, but I didn't care. It was quiet.
After 8 hours in the air, I landed in NYC, ready to crash for the night. Then I made the mistake of turning my phone back on. The voicemails and emails poured in, and before I was even in the cab, I was taking care of my next week of dates with Martha Wainwright. Living the dream...
Aside from that, the 11hr drive was pretty uneventful. We pulled in to Brussels pretty much on schedule and proceeded to set up for the show which was on the roof of a parking garage. It was special.
After soundcheck, we got to the hotel quickly to drop our bags and then went out walking. We were right by the Grote Market, which is one of my favourite places in the world, so I had to see it. It was particularly awesome tonight because there was a massive beer festival in the square. People were stumbling, screaming, chanting, cheering and, of course, drinking. It was amazing. Of course, given our luck, we got there too late to buy tickets, so all we could do was watch. We ended up sitting down at a patio just around the corner to have some dinner, talked for a bit to the people at the table next to us about the history of war in Europe, checked out the square one last time and headed back for the final show of the tour.
It went pretty well once again, but only after our tour manager literally kicked the dj off the stage so we could start. The dj had 3 warnings... He was not a happy dj. Security sided with our tour manager though, and the dj was escorted away. Eventually they worked things out and an all-out rumble was avoided. After the show we didn't hang out too long, because in the spirit of living the dream, we got right back in to the van to drive to London. Yes, we though it was insane too.
So we drove through the night. We dropped one guy at Gatwick, and me and one more at Heathrow. In theory, it was good to get dropped off at the airport. In practice, it was ridiculous. I got dropped at 9am because the guy at Gatwick had an early flight. My flight was at 4:30pm. This is one of the cons of my job.
I tried to move my flight up, but no go. Not for $250. I considered going in to the city, but I was burnt from the overnight drive to make it worthwhile. So I gave up. I checked in, went through security and began the wait. I somehow found a quiet area, which I didn't think existed in Heathrow, and sat in a chair for 7 hours. I did not get up once, and I didn't really care. I was too tired to move. There were a few other people around me who had been waiting almost as long. It was funny to watch them all try to sleep or read with no success whatsoever. I was in the same boat though. It was a whole lot of no good. I decided to just turn off my brain and do some people watching. I was pretty dazed from the whirlwind of driving the last couple days, so my goal was easily achieved. Eventually, around 3pm, I started feeling alive again, and I ended up talking with someone across from me for a while before I had to go to my gate.
The flight itself was painless. No screaming babies!!! I guess I finally earned a quiet flight. I couldn't sleep to save my life, but I didn't care. It was quiet.
After 8 hours in the air, I landed in NYC, ready to crash for the night. Then I made the mistake of turning my phone back on. The voicemails and emails poured in, and before I was even in the cab, I was taking care of my next week of dates with Martha Wainwright. Living the dream...
posted by t. at 1:10 AM
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