MY CHOCOLATE COVERED HANGOVER.

                Marco is an awesome tour manager.  So far, he is taking good care of us.  I’m really enjoying listening to him talk shit and curse at people in Italian, especially when he is driving. He has taught me a few derogatory words and phrases so far, but I think he is holding out on the good ones so we won’t understand him when he uses them on us.  He saw a tall beautiful woman on a bike as we pulled into Berlin.  He called her “cavalla,” (I’m sure that spelling is wrong) which basically describes her as a horse in Italian… a big, beautiful horse. This is very much a compliment according to him and I repeat it along with other phrases he taught me in the wrong situations where they don’t apply just to make him laugh. 

He has a good sense of humor and his English is really spot on, which makes things very easy for us. Every now and then he can be hard to understand though. Again, he was describing a woman and he called her “matcher.” I thought he was saying an Italian word, but he was trying to say “mature.” He also thinks I play the bass (pronounced like the fish).  Someone accidentally called him Marcus and he laughingly said that was a black mans name.  Since then he has referred to everyone we have seen that’s black as Marcus Johnson.  It cracks him up.

 I know I’m painting him as a sort of racist, Italian version of the Pepe LePew character from Looney Tunes so far, but he isn’t like that.  He is a very passionate fan of music and movies and that has occupied the largest parts of our conversations.  His main job is working for a gay and lesbian film festival in Torino where he writes the synopsis of each movie and puts together the brochure and/or program from what I can tell. 

He tells me all about Berlin as we drive into town. I have to make a conscience effort to not hang out the window like a dog because I’m so excited.  It’s definitely big and has a lot of character. There is a lot of graffiti, art, and plenty of parks.  It’s not particularly clean though. There is broken glass everywhere and I definitely saw some syringes this morning when I was walking around. It’s cheap to live in Berlin and there is a big party and drug scene, so Marco says it’s very easy for young people to move to Berlin and sort of “lose their way.”  The parks are also a hub for drug dealers and users.  We saw some shanty towns which was odd because the shanty towns, crappy buildings, and really nice buildings all occupy the same space. There doesn’t seem to be “good areas” or “bad areas.”  It’s all just “Berlin.”  Everything coexistences together from block to block.

The club we are playing is more what we are used to. Imagine the first floor of the Pour House in Raleigh, but with the shitty rock and roll ambiance of Slim’s.  It really reminds us of our favorite club in Savannah called the Jinx.  Everyone here is covered in tattoos, piercings, and crazy haircuts.  We feel right at home.  Not because we fit in, but because over the years we have always gotten great receptions from the employees of places like this. It’s not that they necessarily like our music, but I think they like the genuineness of our band.  We don’t have a particular look and we aren’t trying to fit into any popular style of music.  We just do it because we love it and we have way too much fun doing it. At the very least they seem to respect that about us.  The other band was a bunch of old English dudes that were straight out of Spinal Tap. They were nice, but horrible.  After sound check the club fed us Tandoori chicken with curried veggies and rice at a Tiki bar next door. It was really good.

I was less excited about the show than I was about getting to see my old friend Laura Raber from high school. She was a foreign exchange student from Germany and over my senior year we became really good friends and even went to prom together.  She is an absolutely amazing person and I couldn’t wait to hang out with her in her home country for once.  She showed up with her brother Wolfe and his friend Tom.  After introductions we went to a store and bought beer. She told me I had to try Berliner Pilsner. It was .70 euros which is around .89 cents back home and it was a 22oz (or whatever the milliliter equivalent is) bottle.  I thought it was going to be hobo beer, but it was really good.  We took all our beers into this big park near the venue.  It was really packed and totally sketchy, but in a way that didn’t feel dangerous.  Fireworks were going off for some reason. Maybe the day of ascension? We talked for a long time and got as caught up as we could in the time we had. She told me more about Berlin and Hamburg, (where she currently lives) and she taught me some more German, which I would go on to mispronounce and bastardize for the rest of the night. 

We went back to the club and played. The crowd was just ok. Berlin on a Friday night has a lot going on so it’s harder for a band like us. We were happy though.  The club really liked us and gave us some shots that were kind of like bloody Mary shots.  I didn’t like them, but Ryan did and early on in the evening it was evident that Ryan and I were going to be the ones partying hard down in Berlin.   A dance party broke out after our set.  It was really funny to watch, but we were told it was not a typical German dance party. It’s sort of their version of a hipster party.  You dance wildly to non-dance music.  They played Billy Idol, Talking Heads, and The Smiths.  We drank a lot of beer and then we told Laura that we wanted her to take us somewhere cool.  She exchanged numbers with Marco so he could tell us when to come back and we left to go somewhere down the block. 

The club was in a basement that looked like a meat packing plant. It was somehow exactly how I imagined a German club would look.  I bought a round of beer and Laura made me order, pay, and thank the bartender entirely in German.  Ironically, he spoke better English than I do.  We went into the main room to dance to a DJ playing Electronica.  Everyone here dances exactly the same.  It’s a real laid back kind of head bob dance and no one dances together.  We were informed that you’re supposed to try to act very cool and aloof. Ryan and I were not having that. We broke out some ridiculously bad dancing and for some reason decided to try to be wingmen for Laura’s friend Tom.  Our attempts pleased no one in the club except for Ryan, Laura, and me.  Tom thought it was funny, but we definitely embarrassed the shit out of him.  We spent a LONG time there apparently, but it went by so quick.  We just continued to drink and talk to strangers, and do our newly discovered German dance until Marco called Laura and said it was time to go.  She walked us back to the other club where we found the other guys and continued to talk harmless shit to random Germans and yell curse words in butchered Italian.  In other words, we were really bringing America’s A game to Europe.  We said goodbye to Laura and every stranger we had harassed and went to our Hostel.  We had a private room with six bunks and our own bathroom.  The sun was coming up.  I knew I was going to hate life in the morning when I woke up.

I was right.  Ryan and I woke up somehow still drunk and hungover at the same time around eleven when we had to leave our hostel.  Today was much warmer in Berlin and the hangover made it feel even hotter than it was.  We set out looking for cheap “doner” or gyros, but all we could find was a schwarma place.  It was really good and they put pickled cabbage, pickled beets, and potatoes in it.  When that didn’t cure my hangover I decided to kill my pain with chocolate. Since I’ve been here I have been fighting off a craving to eat every piece of chocolate I can find.  I finally caved.  If I was going to feel like shit then I might as well eat like shit.  I bought a chocolate bar with nougat in it first, and then I had one with hazelnuts in it.  After that, I ate one filled with marzipan, and then one filled with strawberry yogurt.  The last one was my favorite.  The tartness of the yogurt was really great with the chocolate.  Why don’t they have this stuff back home?  While I was trying to kill my pain with chocolate we got to wander all over Berlin and even got to visit parts of the Berlin wall.  It was so exciting.  I honestly never thought I would be able to see all these cool things and still be doing the thing I love.  Totally worth the divorce!!!!!

We finally left Berlin and drove a few hours to Lauchhammer where the club is a Texas style Saloon.  That’s right, a fucking saloon. The owner had on a snakeskin cowboy hat and matching boots on when we pulled up and wore them all night.  There were American and Texas flags all over the bar.  It was quite comical.  If it wasn’t for the beer selection you would never know you were in Germany!  The stage was great and the room sounded awesome for sound check.  Afterwards they took us upstairs where they had a giant spread laid out.  Sliced baguettes topped with salami on some, cheese on others, swordfish as well, and some type of raw sausage mixture that would have made my mother cringe, but my Dad would have loved it.  They were all good. There was roasted chicken, meatballs, schnitzel, scalloped potatoes, pork chops, Serrano ham wrapped sausages, roasted cauliflower and broccoli with a hollandaise sauce, and lots of good bread.  I’m going to be fat as fuck when I leave here!

The show itself was amazing. Much like the first night the owner (who was also named Ralph) was a big fan and had been to Texas and SXSW a lot.  He loved our cds and played them often in the club.  By the time we went on it was packed. We played well and have sold lots of merchandise so far.  I hope all the shows go as well as they have been.  I’m about to go back to the merch stand and finish selling our stuff. Hopefully we will get into something fun tonight after the show with some wild and crazy German locals!

-May 19^th 2012 (11p.m.) Lauchhammer, Germany

AUSFAHRT, STAGE LEFT….

                Ausfahrt is my new favorite word.  Pronounced “ass-fart,” it simply means exit, so you see it when driving on the autobahn constantly. I am actually writing this from the front passenger seat of our new Mercedes Sprinter heading to Berlin from Eppstein. I didn’t realize I was on the autobahn at first.  I fell asleep when we got on the highway and woke up when a car went by us so fast that you could feel the Sprinter move in its wake.  Our van is comfortable, but certainly not the car I’d like to be experiencing the autobahn in. I keep enviously watching the fast lane as Audi, BMW, and Mercedes sports cars go flying by us.  I’ll take what I can get though. I think most Americans grow up revering this “autobahn” as a no-holds-barred, Mad Max style, crazy German speedway. It’s not. It’s just the regular old highway with no speed limit signs posted and the occasional Ausfahrt.  A lot has happened since I last wrote on Wednesday evening. We met our tour manager, left Frankfurt, and played our first show.

                Wednesday night after we left the Irish pub, we went exploring a little and asked for a good bar to go to. We were directed to an “American style” bar called MeatPackers.  It was essentially Appleby’s. I went back to the hotel and tried to sleep. I couldn’t. Maybe it was the jetlag or the fact that I had slept for thirteen hours the night before, or a combination of both. It was kind of refreshing though. Everyone knows I tend to spread myself kind of thin and as a result I have the ability to sleep anywhere at a moments notice usually. A mild form of narcolepsy I guess.  I tried to remember the last time I had real trouble sleeping and I couldn’t. I got up and went to the community computer. After a while, a well dressed German came up and spoke to me (keep in mind that it’s four in the morning). After realizing I spoke English he pointed to facebook and asked “You search girls?” “No, just keeping up with friends back in America.” He then said something in German, looked me up and down, and said “you search boys?” “Hahaha. No boys” I said. He then went away.  Note to self: Don’t wear your short running shorts to the hotel lobby late at night.

                I finally fell asleep at some point and woke up very early.   I took a coffee spoon from the room and stuck it into the pocket of my hoodie before wandering into the streets to find food, hopefully yogurt.  All the markets I had previously been to were closed and there were very few people on the street. Apparently it’s a holiday here so everything (even Starbucks) was closed. I finally found some yogurt at a shop in the subway.  I figured that if the trains were still running there would at least be one convenience store open. I then went back to bed and slept in late. Whit and I went for a walk down by the river and saw lots of German police breaking up some hippie protests. Ryan and I had seen something similar the night before.  I’m not sure if it was Occupy Frankfurt or what but the police weren’t having it. The police were literally disbanding a drum circle. I wish the police would do that at music festivals here. Nothing infuriates me more than a hippie drum circle. 

                At one o’clock we were finally picked up by Marco, our Italian tour manager.  I like him a lot. He is friendly and easy to get along with. He is my height, but really slender. He has a shaved head with some righteous mutton chops and giant sunglasses. Kind of like the Dj Moby if he was into punk music.  He wears really tight clothes and has a denim jacket with a home made patch across the back made from a band t-shirt. It has the bands name (Big Black) with a picture of a power drill and various sex toy attachments for it.  We immediately decide we will get along with this man.

                We make the thirty minute drive to Eppstein which is a beautiful German town that looks so stereotypically German that it’s almost comical.  I really liked it.  The only hotel in town is some rooms above a tavern. The set up was similar to that in Frankfurt. It had small rooms and smaller beds, but definitely comfy.  Oh yeah, and it was next to a fucking castle!  We grabbed lunch at a Greek place and got the best Gyro I’ve ever had.  They are called doners here.  Apparently we will be eating lots of them which is fine with me. They are all over Europe and are really cheap. The pita was different than I’m used to though. It had a crispy exterior much more like ciabatta bread than a pita. After lunch we explored the castle which was quite busy. Apparently they were hosting some sort of medieval torture festival. The only thing torturous though was the German cover band that they had playing. It was three old Germans playing HORRIBLE stuff. It was like a bad Will Ferrell skit. They played “I had the time of my life” from the Dirty Dancing soundtrack for the love of god!  I laughed really hard at them while we wandered around and I took lots of bad touristy-type pictures. 

                The place we were playing was walking distance from the hotel. It was a small restaurant/listening room with a decent stage. The owner, a very friendly German man named Ralph and his girlfriend/bartender took very good care of us. From the moment we got there they were very excited and had lots of questions about how the trip had been and what was on the setlist for the evening.  He has liked us for quite a while and has been playing our cds constantly since he found our music on a trip to Texas several years ago.  He is very much into Texas country and Americana music.  They also were very enthusiastically giving us all sorts of new beer to try.  Good local pilsners and ales. Some other stuff I haven’t tried too.  He also seemed very concerned about the plight of Native Americans in the states, oddly enough.  This made me laugh, but not to his face.  I’m still too intimidated by the German accent to start talking any shit.

We unloaded our rented gear and started dragging it upstairs. At this point I was definitely regretting ordering such heavy equipment. As we were setting up and sound checking, we realized that every table had reservations on it. When it was time to go on the whole room was packed. Now, it’s not a big room, but every single seat was gone and people were standing in every available spot.  It was a great feeling. They loved us and were very much aware of who we were. Some had known about us for quite a while and others looked us up when the heard an American band was coming and only knew a few songs. They were great. So attentive! Oh yeah, and this crowd was OLD. The average age was probably forty. I’m not complaining. They were stuck around the whole 2+ hours and bought tons of merchandise so old people are OK in my book.  We actually didn’t have to play for so long but they kept calling us back onstage! Afterwards, we stayed and talked with everyone and continued to drink. The, Marco and I drank some Sambuca with espresso beans in it. I ate the espresso beans before I was told not to. I won’t be making that mistake again.  We walked back to our hotel and crashed for the night. It was early, maybe midnight.

                I woke up the next day and couldn’t find a suitable trail to run on (narrow cobblestone streets make running hard) so I broke out my jump rope and just did that.  It’s an odd feeling listening to Jay Z and Kanye’s H.A.M. (Mom, that stands for hard as a motherfucker….don’t ask) while jumping rope in the shadow of a castle. After showering and packing up we went back to the venue because here in Europe everywhere feeds you dinner and many places even feed you breakfast! It was a good one too. Eggs, crusty bread and butter, cured meats and cheeses, fruit, cappuccino… I was in heaven. The owner ate with us while wearing his American Aquarium shirt. He was very pleased with last nights turnout and so were we.  It was nice to be so far from home and meet people who are so passionate about what we are doing.  It was a great first night that will be hard to top.

                So, now we are off to Berlin on the autobahn. Marco tells us tonights show is very much a typical rock club. I am eager to see it. I like loud rock halls much better than listening rooms typically.  The owner also feeds us at his Tiki bar next store. Seems like an odd combo, but we will see how it goes.  That’s it for now. We are almost at our Ausfahrt!

May 18^th (4:30p.m.) Berlin

“FOR THIS SUCCESS, I TAKE A PISS…”

                So, while I was on my run yesterday I had scouted out a few seemingly German-style restaurants that had English on the menu for us to eat at since I knew everyone would want to try something authentic for dinner.  I figured it was best to ask the concierge about it though and she directly me to a place called the Apfelwein Haus that was about a twenty minute walk across the river, but she said that was definitely where we needed to go.  We tried to wake Kevin up, but I’m guessing the Xanax was still kicking and he didn’t want to get out of bed so the rest of us went to dinner.  The walk was nice. The weather here is cooler than back home, but it’s not uncomfortably cold or anything. 

                The restaurant was nice and warm, and had a really cozy feel. It was very busy and had big, long wooden tables for family style seating. Our waiter was a giant overweight German that spoke English with the kind of German accent that (thanks to Hollywood villains) makes all Americans cringe.   When we all ordered water he started actually giving us shit. “tattoos… Budweiser (Ryan had on a Budweiser hat)… and you order water?” So, we asked what we should get and he said that their house specialty was their apple wine so we got that. It came out in a big clay vase and was delicious. It wasn’t very sweet. I was expecting a cider but it was much more like a wine.  I got Nurmburg Bratwursthausen, or something like that. Basically it was brats with sauerkraut and mashed potatoes. It was delicious. Like… really delicious.  I could eat that meal everyday. The potatoes had enough butter in them to give Lance Armstrong a heart attack.  After we ate we started to walk back.

                We decided to grab a beer near our hotel and that we should at least try to wake Kevin up again. He finally got up and we went to an Irish pub next to our hotel which was packed due to a soccer match. Whit and Ryan Stayed there while Bj, Kev, and I went to a German bar down the street that was less busy. One of the biggest differences here in bars is that many will only have one beer on draft which they display on their sign out front. There are Henninger bars, Bitburger bars, and Binding bars…etc. They serve all sorts of beers in bottles, but what’s on the sign seems to be all they have on draft. For instance, the Irish pub only has Guinness and Kilkinney.  This German bar served only Henninger and was inhabited by a few drunken old men watching the Desseldorf v. Berlin Soccer Club match. Our bartender barely spoke English and was kind enough to give us an extra beer on the house before we left. 

Apparently Visa’s aren’t accepted at this place so he directed us to an ATM down the street.  To show us the way/make sure we didn’t stiff him, he sent what was obviously the most outgoing of the drunken old men with us.  The guy was from Dusseldorf and sang what I can only gather was a Dusseldorf fight song of some sort.  I found this wildly entertaining mostly because I feel that all drunk, old men should sing, especially Europeans.  The more obscure the song, the better.  When we got to the ATM he asked “You find?” and we said yes and thanked him for his help. I will never forget his reply as long as I live: “For this success… I take a piss!”  He then turned towards the building and pulled out his penis to urinate and started singing Pink Floyd to us. “We don’t need no education….. We don’t need no thought control….” At this point we were all hysterical.  This was not how I envisioned drunken old European men, but if they are all this funny then I’m ok with it.  After a verse he stopped and we all went back to the bar to pay our tab.  Kev and Bj went to get chocolates and I went to bed early. It was around eleven.

I slept until one which I haven’t done in years, and went to the market to get more pistachio and coconut flavored milk and an apple for breakfast. After that (and a few cups of coffee) I went back down to the river for another run. I ran even further than yesterday and explored a new section of trail. This city really is beautiful.  Ryan and I went for a walk and grabbed some dinner at the market again. Now I’m sitting at the Irish Bar which is the only place I’ve found so far with free wifi and we are about to pack up and go explore some more.  Our hotel only has one computer to share so it’s always occupied and the German keyboard is a bitch to navigate. Hopefully I’ll get to post again soon.

May 16^th, 2012 (8:24) Frankfurt, Germany

DEAR FRANKFURT, YOU ARE BEAUTIFUL.

            We arrived in Germany this morning at about 8 a.m. without incident. In fact, getting here was infinitely easier than many trips I’ve taken to New Jersey.  There were no delays, no issues checking and retrieving our instruments, no screaming kids on the plane, and Kevin was too pumped full of Xanax to have a panic attack and get us all arrested. 

            Our hotel is the Leonardo City Central Hotel or something like that. The rooms are nice, but very small. The beds are barely big enough for one person and all the furnishings look like they came straight from IKEA. It’s a great location. We are right downtown and there are plenty of places to walk to.

            In fact, when we first got to the hotel we decided to find a market and get some food. The clerk in the lobby gave us directions to one that was about two blocks away. It was completely overwhelming to be honest. It was so strange to not be able to read any labels and have to guess about what it is that you’re buying. And forget about reading the nutritional labels.  I wish I knew German.

Everything looked so good though! They had sandwiches that looked unreal and then everything else was seriously offered in chocolate flavor. It was damn near a candy shop.  I would have diabetes here for sure.  We must have looked like idiots.  Picking things up, shaking them, turning them, putting them back down, scratching our heads, grunting...  It must have been a sight. One thing I tried that was amazing was pistachio and coconut flavored milk.  Yes, that’s right: pistachio and coconut flavored milk. At least I think that’s what it was.  I do know it was awesome.

            After our breakfast we took naps. Come to think of it, I’m not sure if Kevin has even truly been awake during the past 24 hours. He has just been in Xanax-zombie mode since leaving for Charlotte and I don’t blame him. The poor guy had been dreading that flight for months. I hope when he wakes up that he is a little more cognizant of his surroundings and can start to enjoy himself.

            I woke up before everyone else (around 3p.m.) and decided to walk around Frankfurt. Since I can’t read and certainly can’t pronounce street names, I decided to rename everything so I could remember how to get back. Wundmuhlstraeb would now forever be called "windmill street” as far as I was concerned. You’re welcome, Germany. I walked about a half mile to this beautiful river with bike/running trails, parks, and several foot bridges that go across to the other side.  I took a few pics and then ran in one direction until it ended, crossed over, and ran back. The weather was beautiful and so was the scenery. I listened to European electro-pop while I ran so that I would feel more like a native. That and I didn’t have any Hasselhoff on my iPod. It was a perfect way to start the trip.

            I’m back at the hotel and the rest of the guys are waking up. The plan right now is to find some authentic German food and beer and try not to make asses out of ourselves like we did at the market earlier. Hopefully it goes well. 

-May 15^th, 2012 (6p.m.) Frankfurt Germany