Leaving London, Air France tried to ream me for 35 pounds to cover my heavy-by-8-kilos baggage- luckily I could spare some miles to pay for it. In a frenzy, I arrived at Charles de Gaulle airport. Now, I was supposed to stay with a former lover- I mean I had really loved him- or I had been obsessed with him- nonetheless I was a little miffed at the situation to follow. I had spoken with him that day, and it was clear that I could stay with him at his girlfriend’s place. Fact of the matter is, I just didn’t want to spend 50 euros on a hotel room, and although Corey had reserved one for herself that I could share, I wasn’t ready for the high budget life. This is tour, after all. So it was set that I’d call him from the airport. Of course, at 11pm one can’t buy a phone card anywhere in Paris, so I moved on with my 100 pounds of luggage (I now know, as it was weighed in London), on a long long metro ride to Chatelet, a 15 minute walk through the station to switch to the line which brought me to Belleville. I asked a few people on the street to use their phones but no luck. Finally a pizza restaurant let me use theirs, and I called, in relief. Until the phone wasn’t answered. Tried again- perhaps he was in the bathroom. No answer. Got out my map and asked directions over a beer with the men at the next table. My French came in really handy that night. Funny about second languages how they appear when you need them, and disappear when you don’t.
I decided to take matters in my own hands and catch a cab straight there- I did have the address, so off we went, and a short while later we arrived at the address, which was a big apartment building with no names outside. Some hipsters let me in to look- I knew her name was Nathalie. 2 Nathalies on the mailbox but no door numbers. They let me in their own apartment to call again. Nothing. I was in the same building but couldn’t find them.
In a panic I realized that Corey’s hotel info had changed and I didn’t have it. Cabbie was waiting for me outside so I suggested he either bring me to the center, and in a wild goose chase I could find Corey, or take me to a hotel. So to a hotel we went, then another, and another, and so on, as they were all full (soccer match) or closed (it was around 1:30 am by now). Hmmm. The cabbie asked why I hadn’t booked a room. I explained the situation and we laughed when I said “mon ami n’est pas mon ami maintenant”. After about 10 hotels, where this sweet older gentleman went to each door and knocked (he seemed truly concerned for my well being), we decided maybe a bigger hotel would be better. And off to Montrueil we went- a suburb right outside of the Periphique. First one, (full), then finally Motel Formule 1- they had a room!!!
I was so ecstatic I gave the cab driver a 30% tip and called him an angel, except I accidentally used the feminine form. I wanted to hug him. 40 euros a night. Ok. I’ll take it. And up I went, and off the elevator and down the hall when I noticed some bathrooms and showers. Ugh. 40 euros and no toilet? Yep. Nice big room that could fit three, though- if I had been a young soccer fan dude I could have dug it. And I slept like a log, after watching soccer on the tv. Unfortunately the toilets didn’t have seats, which a) sucks for girls and b) led me to believe it was a male-oriented motel.
In the morning I found a bar, had a coffee and bought a phone card from a funny Amifile. I called Corey and off I went to join the world of high-class living. --Lexa
Chapter 2- Paris
Cor and I went to Centre Pompidou and saw a great and comprehensive show of contemporary African art, as well as the Brancusi ateleier. When we arrived back at the hotel we saw the girls, who had just flown in. We stuffed cd’s, read love letters, and decided to go to that great Cous Cous place near Gambetta for dinner. Yummm! Fish tagine with olives and preserved lemons! Wine! A funny waiter named Bouberek (above), who invited us to play there if we didn’t have a show in Paris already. Ready to pass out! Unfortunately I got sympathetic jet lag and didn’t sleep more than two hours. Ugh. --Lexa
Chapter 3- St. Etienne
Nico showed up in Paris, early! Unfortunately we had all been out shopping and missed him. Anyway we finally got out of town a couple of hours late due to traffic. We had set off to St. Etienne and Nico had sent Agathe, his lovely girlfriend, to meet Emma Zunz at the Lyon train station. We had originally planned to take the train too but it then was going to be too expensive. As we drove through traffic the entire way, we became concerned as we realized Nico didn’t have his phone with him, and Cristin and Annie were supposed to call upon arrival. We called John Shiurba and he had been contacted by Cristin- they waited an hour and never met Agathe. Nico called Agathe- needless to say, she had been looking for them for over an hour and never found them. Running ever later, we made an unexpected stop in the Lyon countryside to pick up the PA for the next 2 shows.
In St. Etienne, we were greeted by Emma Zunz as well as Laetitia and Christophe, a lovely duo. Their place -- Ramina Grobis -- was super cute and had a courtyard and a band room upstairs. We tried to set up the PA but were missing some basics, like the power cable to Nico’s mixer, so we made an impromptu set up with ours (including substituting guitar for EZ amps with the PA). There were only 20 people or so, but EZ rocked, and we had fun, and then had a huge meal at Laetitia’s parents’ restaurant two doors down. We even tried pork heart. Hmmm. Her mother had one of those typical French faces, like the cyclist from Triplets of Belleville. Long nose and wide eyes. Her father was a cute Algerian man with shaky hands. They had family pictures all around and had opened the restaurant 30 years earlier. Most of us slept great. --Lexa
Chapter 4: Lyon
After having breakfast in the restaurant, and a lot of good espresso, I loaded the van myself with Christophe. The girls let me do it so I could work off that extra energy. Nico had left early that morning for a job interview in Lyon so we went along with L & C, and their dog to their studio in Lyon- she’s an architect working in public places and he is a landscaper and rock-n-roller in a band called Mary Poppers, who will be coming to the Bay area in December. We spent a lazy day at their gorgeous atelier, made some food, sat in the garden, read a few emails… We went to the concert space around the corner and waited around for Nico, Angela and Corey to come back with yesterday’s forgotten equipment. We all started to feel a little nauseous. The guys at the space played the Clash, as it seems all French punk places do. Nikko F, also in Ned (Nico’s band), and an old friend of mine, showed up and we chatted about his recent art projects as well as flirted with heavy French accents, as we always do. Nico and the gals showed up and we set up the PA but it wasn’t working in both speakers. Nico was stressed out, I could see, and none of his posse was there to help. Finally got it together and the show was packed. T’was super swell for both bands yet we sold only a few cd’s- what’s up with that? Following the show we had a soiree at Severine’s & Tristan’s new pad with beautiful salads made by her and Agathe, as well as smoke and slivovice. Called my sweetboy and slept like a log to wake up 4 hours later- we had to meet Nico and EZ and deal with putting a 3rd seat in the van. --Lexa
Chapter 5: Zurich
Well, needless to say, Nico was late (poor Nico had been on tour until a day before he picked us up) and had to load his PA back in his car and go to the practice space again to unload, and the van rental place in Givors was closed for lunch. Had to go to Vienne, across the river, and deal with the seat/stolen mirror. Voila! Set off for Zurich by about 1:30 or two, and according to Annie we had to be there at 4. It seemed ridiculous to really need to be there at 4, as we are experienced in the “hurry up to sit around” touring. It was important to Annie, though, as it is important to me, so we called along the road – it was all going to be ok. Turned out our hosts were Amis, all of them, the funny James, the serious Nicole and the arrogant David. The club was like a zoo- meaning the stage was 20 feet below the audience, who sat around the ring. I was wondering how we’d possibly make 250 euros since the place seemed to hold only about 20 people. Zurich had a cool vibe- lots of outdoor living along the river- cafes bustling til late in the night. Nicole made us a lovely dinner, which we ate on the rooftop. Few of those bustlers joined us at the show, and those that did talked through both bands. James did a noise performance where he took out his limp dick (as I told the girls, what's the use of a limp dick?)- (those who have sons were a little offended by my comment). Then, David, the owner of the place, did a peaches-esque performance of misanthropic poetry to electronic beats while his girlfriend Electra danced and mouthed every word. She then proceeded to stop his performance to ask for the keys to the bathrooms. We went out with her and were greeted by cops who were coming to shut down the show. Angela, Cristin and I proceeded to pee in a trashcan, which was really comfortable and I personally recommend that everyone try it. Angela said she might design and patent a toilet made for women.
We slept in a huge squat where James lived – it had a pool and sauna, apparently, but I didn’t get a tour as I was lost trying to find our room. We woke up 4 hours later to give Emma Zunz a ride to the train station. By the way, we didn't make enough money to afford having gone there. --Lexa
Chapter 6: Macon
Cranky, we woke up at 7:30 and drove EZ to the train station. We decided to have a coffee and plan our day. Angela knew of a cool spa in Reinfelden and since we were ahead of the game in time, we decided to go. Kure Centrum was extraordinary, with multiple pools and saunas and steams and lots and lots of old people staring at us. We sweated and exfoliated and bathed to our hearts content, and then had a slow expensive lunch in the cheapest café available. I was now stressed about getting to Macon on time, as it was a festival with a guarantee and a real sound system! We did arrive, as usual, using no map and with vague directions. What a gorgeous place, an old stone wine cellar called Cave a Musique that somehow got away with using the color Cobalt blue without looking sporty. And so organized, with a dressing room too! We had the best sound ever, not a pinch of feedback, and felt pretty darn good, not to mention the people there were really warm. They put us up in a sweet little hotel where Shari and I watched porn because we couldn’t sleep. They were period pieces: Napoleon with two women, the Three Musketeers with one woman, Sherlock Holmes and Dr. Watson with one woman- all with a safe sex theme. They’d whip out condoms made of leather and sheepskin- it looked a little uncomfortable for all parties! Free breakfast in the morning and back to the cave to find internet directions to Milano. -- Lexa
Chapter 7: Milano
A gorgeous Alpine drive brought us into Italy, though we got a ticket in the Mont Blanc tunnel. One of those sneaky camera shots mid tunnel- oh no! We were pulled over and the French cop on the Italian side said “there is a big problem”- he pulls out the evidence of our van going 94 in an 80 zone. Luckily the ticket was only 45 euros and we had been paid more than expected the night before- so it covered the ticket and the hellacious toll. Driving in France is expensive! The first gas station provided us with much needed short, strong, perfect Italian coffee. We arrive in the city with these ridiculous mappy.com directions -- what exactly does “carry on” mean? Of course we get lost and ask directions 5 different times (luckily Corey speaks Italiano). We arrive at the gorgeous flat of the “Punk Rock Sisters”, where we stayed last time we were there. Allessandra apologized for what was to follow- we were supposed to do a girrrl power show but she had to cancel it as there was a big benefit for a squat that had been set on fire by skinheads. In the end they added us on to that bill as I had suggested it was better to play for less money and in an imperfect situation than not at all.
We arrived at the squat (on tour, we always find our way by finding the graffiti.) We were greeted by lots of very cute hardcore boys dressed in black- some of whom we met a few years ago: Dani, Yuri, Alberto,... Still young,still cute. They were very interested in our sound check and our pheromones were a little charged, we have to admit. Nothing like a little attention, you know? Sisters Margherita and Martina showed up and made a pannini sale to help raise money for us. We drank lots of fresh, cold beer. We stared out rocking but as the mostly male, hardcore audience started to wander, our energy dwindled. Well, not mine, as I was feeling pretty loopy and didn’t pay attention to the drifting audience. A very nice boy, Lucca, from the band Kafka (there were many bands that night) did our merch. I had a lot of fun trying to slam dance/beat up Dani and Yuri, when finally the girls said ‘time to go”. What? It’s like this almost every night, where I lose track of time and have no thoughts of sleeping and suddenly, out of the blue, they appear, ready to sleep. And only when I lie down do I realize I, too am ready. In the morning we have a casual relaxed wake up with Allesandra and Marghi, checking out the Suicide Girls website where A had done some of the photo sessions. Suicide Girls is a punk girl pin up site, and, I have to admit, the exhibitionist in me was very interested. But where’s the Suicide Boys site? After a long lunch (dare I cook pasta for Italians?), we slowly, slowly, slowly made our way to Firenze. -- Lexa
