Wake up at 6:04 to pounding, grinding, and traffic noise. I feel like crap. Need some more sleep, but there's no way with the shitty window not sealing properly to keep the noise out. Lay around the bed for another hour trying to sleep, and finally get up at 7 to start my day. It's 65 miles to the festival site. When we leave the hotel at 10, I crawl into my cave in hopes of a catnap.
Wake up at the festival. It is so damn hot. Feels like a million degrees and 98% humidity. The production office is barely cooler than outside, so it looks like I'll be sitting in wet cotton all day again today.
Unlike most of the festivals we've been playing over here, this one is strictly heavy metal. In other words, all the bands SUCK! Mid-afternoon, I'm working in the office when a familiar melody floats by. Alter Bridge, the remnants of Creed (the worst band ever in the history of the known world) are onstage and they're butchering Deep Purple's "Highway Star". For a few seconds, I consider going on stage and beating them with their instruments, but the rage subsides. One or our crew guys, Andy Battye, tells me about his favorite t-shirt from a few years ago. It had a picture of Jesus on it, along with a caption that read "Even Jesus Hates Creed".
Note to Paige: I don't care. Get over it! Creed sucked! They sucked then and they suck now! For all time, they will suck, suck, suck!
And fucking Nickelback, too! They SUCK!
End of rant.
Did I mention how hot it is?
I've been running a countdown timer on my wristwatch since Monday. As I write this, I have 65 hours, 48 minutes and 30 seconds until I step on the plane to go home.
Did I mention that I'm ready to go home?
Today is by far the worst catering I've had in years. The one thing that everyone keeps saying is that it isn't good enough to feed a dog.
My awesome bus driver Werner ("FINGERPRINTS!") takes matters into his own hands and whips out his cooking gear from under the bus. He makes a tomato and onion salad and cooks up a bunch of Spaghetti Arrabiata – enough to feed everyone on my bus. Dan puts a sign on the side of the bus that says "Fuck Festival Catering". We take turns sitting around the card table on the shady side of the bus while Werner feeds us. What a great guy!
Funny little story about "fingerprints". Werner is completely anal about his bus. He keeps it spotless at all times. Which we love. If anyone dares knock on one of the windows, he yells "FINGERPRINTS, FINGERPRINTS!" in his Austrian accent. It just totally cracks us up!
He is so good natured and puts up with a lot of our crap. Some of our humor goes over his head, and vice versa. But he's the best driver I've ever had in Europe and his is by far the best bus I've had.
Didn't watch the show tonight. Grabbed a shower during our set to get the grubby offa me. Bus call is 3am tonight because it's only 150 km to the next gig. Head to bunkworld around 3:15…
Follow the Bobzilla's Photos link at the right to see photos from my travels.
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