And on to Switzerland

Ok. Here's the deal: we have one week left on this crazy thing called tour. That is, one week until our last show at Bush Hall in London. I will be staying in London for an extra couple of days, attempting to let my hair down, party it up, and basically unwind for a bit. Seeing as things are beginning to wind down, I'm struck by a faint melancholy about the prospect of finishing up. I'm not sure what kind of culture shock I will experience when I get back to NY. The worst part will surely not be in terms of returning to America World (sounds like a theme park, right?), but rather getting back into the daily grind of being a bum and not having anything particularly important or productive to do during the day. I fear that it will be exhausting going back to that lifestyle....I kid, of course. But seriously, I have no doubt that I will have some sort of comedown from this whole experience. Hopefully you will all be there to help me drown my sorrows in laughter and maker's mark.

Our shows in Italy turned out being the best of the tour. And I know I seem to say that after almost every performance, but this time I say it purely in terms of the audience response. Milan was AWESOME. The people there were drunk, merry, loud, and extremely ITALIAN. I guess they say as a people the Italians are a passionate type, and I can now confirm that first hand. After our set, we hung out with the owner of the venue drinking shots of Jameson and talking about nothing in particular. We even tried to get in on a game of foosball, but to no avail. They really take the foosball seriously in Italy. It's not like in the states, where one just spins the handles as hard as he can and tries to bonk the ball into the goal from the goalie position. It's a sport of tact and great finesse over here. Almost like real soccer, except that the players are of course mounted on sliding poles. We got to smoke a little doobie in the upstairs room with the owner and some of his compatriots, laughing and smiling the whole way. People are seeming to really appreciate this music, which is a very rewarding thing to watch happen. After our encores, Brian and James and I usually get right to work breaking down the stage as Shara works the crowd with grace and class like I've never seen before. She looks her fans straight in the eye, is sincere and engaging, and shows no rock-star attitude whatsoever. All of her rockstar stuff she leaves on stage, like a true P R O.

We left Milan happy as clams, having enjoyed a field day on merch sales and free booze. Turin was our next stop. The drive itself only took about 3 hours, but was made much more difficult by the fact that our GPS unit (affectionately nicknamed Cynthia) chose to clock out. We were essentially driving a bit blind for the day. Turin is the Italian equivalent of Detroit, the motor city, because it is the base of production for the Fiat automobile line. The streets are filled with cars and the air clouded with fog, and the drivers here are some of the worst I've yet seen on the continent. Brussels might be tied with Turin for having the worst drivers in Europe, but I'm not going to hold it against either city.

The show in Turin was weird, but well-attended and well-executed on our part. I blame the weirdness on the worst opening band I've ever come in contact with in my life. I was sitting down watching their set thinking to myself, "wow, I must have eaten something wrong because I actually feel like throwing up. Wait a minute, all I ate today was an apple and a ham sandwich, so this band must actually be making me want to vomit." I guess it's wrong to talk shit about a band opening for you, but I can't help it. They were absolutely fucking terrible. I can't even go into why or how they ended up being so bad, but they pulled it off with flying colors. Since it was a late show, we got done at around 1am, and got back to the hotel around 2. Brian and I had to fend off advances from two Mojito-ified british ex-pat university students, but we escaped alive.

We departed Turin in the morning without the help of our faithful Cynthia, and set out for our show at Salzhaus. This drive was absolutely breathtaking. Between moments of unsatisfying sleep, the views were pristine and epic to a degree I've never experienced before. It's all lakes of glass and mountains covered in snow and beauty and wonderment (and other stuff....) I felt like I was in a scene from Lord of the Rings for about 4 out of the 5 hours of our trek. It actually kind of made me understand the whole neutrality thing in Switzerland here. I guess the mindset must be something along the lines of, "It's too pretty around here to fight anybody. Let's just sit around here, eat chocolate and play with pocket knives. And maybe make some cheese with holes in it." The drive was a bit long, but we arrived just in time for soundcheck. I'm now writing from the backstage area, fully fed and content with life for the most part. I am a bit homesick, though, and I'm torn between emotions about the final days of the tour. Until our last show, I will put on my P R O face and plow through. Hope everyone is doing well. I've included some photos from the drive and from the beautiful sunrise in Berlin. Enjoy.