Late, missing the performance I was supposed to attend with Miki and Lorenzo- apparently it was people I knew?? We arrived around nine and got Lorenzo’s keys from the bar on the corner. We got settled at his sister’s place (she’s off in Kosovo) and went off in search of food. I called Marcy, a new friend from Oaktown, as she’s there studying for the summer. We’d see her tomorrow. Corey has been carrying around a menu of a restaurant she loved when she lived here in 1989. You see, Firenze was all about Corey- it was her homecoming from long years away. We were on a mission. Hungry and tired, we eventually found the place, but they were closed, full, and wouldn’t give us any food. The maitre’d did offer Corey to come home with him and he’d cook her some pasta. We ended up at a place by the duomo and spent a little too much money on way too much food and wine but it felt good to sit down to a good, warm meal.
I was awoken by hustle bustle in the morning, everyone was showered and dressed. Che cazzo? Corey was leading the girls on a tour of the town, and we were either going now or not going. I might have been a little bitchy in my delivery because a) I was shocked and amazed- it’s usually me putting on the pressure to go b) I hadn’t had coffee yet and c) they hadn’t woken me- I felt left out, even though I had made it clear that my intentions were to do my own thing and hang out with my old friends. Anyway we all went to the bar to have coffee and make a plan. Lorenzo met us as the girls were walking off and he and I went to the Ogino:knauss workshop to do some tour diary writing and other correspondence. Lorenzo, Miki and Manuela have had this video and media project for years, and I had seen their work before when on tour with Kackala. It was nice to sit with my laptop, the two of us working silently under the frescoed ceiling. We caught up a bit and I found out the group I had missed last night was Oouff Ouro- a really great Sardinian performance group that had done a residency at CESTA two years before. Alessandro, Danillo and I had spent some fun times together and their work had been very inspiring to me. Big bummer that I missed their show.
Lorenzo also called Syd, a dear friend with whom I had lost contact. He hadn’t been hanging out with The Ogi people much lately either, so it was a delight to see them all laughing together at the lunch Lorenzo and his new partner Laura had made for us (on his birthday!).
His place with Laura was absolutely incredible, with a huge wisteria-covered patio and lots of bookshelves.
We went to the show, which was at a now-in-contract squat, which reminded me of a mix between TPO in Bologna and the former CPA in Firenze. We set up but it seemed the mixer was locked up and no one had the key. We met Emma Zunz at the bus stop and we went upstairs (which was about a kilometer away) to eat dinner -- the sound guy was also the chef, and he made delicious pasta with wild mushrooms, and salad and turkey chunks for the meat eaters, as well as potatoes. We ate everything up and then realized there were ten more people who needed to eat. Oops.
They figured something out with the mixer and the show opened with a clown named Constantine performed – he had great plastic hair. Emma and we performed to a patient, gracious audience. I think they were all stoned. I got to see my friend Marcy from Oakland, as well as Roberta from Burp Sonic Inventions (a local label) and Erik Tomassi, whom I had met at CESTA a few years earlier.
Apparently Shari and Corey Walked Marcy home from where we parked the car and it took over an hour. Then Shari had insomnia and walked the streets of Florence for hours. I slept on a beach chair in Lorenzo’s and Laura’s living room. Did I mention I like to sleep alone? Did I mention I start to notice how dirty my feet are getting? -- Lexa
Chapter 9: Day off in Pisa and Taggia
After coffee with Miki (who, by the way, has been using martin as an intro for his radio show for a year), we set off towards Taggia, where we’d stay with my old friends Vittorio and Pamela. Oh no, we see a sign for the Leaning tower of Pisa. I suggested we might stop for a 20-minute lunch and photo op, thinking that it might satisfy the girls, as I had promised we wouldn’t have any long drives this tour, and now we had two days' worth to get to Toulouse. No turning back. Off we went, getting lost along the way. We got to see an Italian hooker/john transaction along the way. 2 hours later we left: lots of shopping to do. But it was worth it to meet the sweet man with the gourmet shop who sold us bruscetta (yumm!) and gave us chianti (yumm!) and cookies (yumm!).
There was a long, winding, traffic-jam-filled road through Genova but we made it to Taggia, and Vittorio met us at the freeway exit. We met their new baby, Pietro, and all the toy girls got all smushy, missing their own children. Pamela made an amazing meal of tortellini and sun dried tomatoes, marinated eggplant (“from the south”), plus their own wine. V. described Toychestra as “DUNKY DINKY DUKEY DINKY” with a special little dance (was he describing Monopause?), which we unfortunately did not capture on video.
Chapter 10: Toulouse
We were off only an hour late, and had a lovely but windy Riviera drive. We arrived around 7 at what looked like a record store. Turns out it’s an association that rents CDs, zines, etc. Check email, set up, eat Pasta salad and homemade breads, and re-emerged to a full house, including lots of kids. Totally warm, attentive audience -- played an encore, got invited to a festival next year, but missed seeing Stephane, Miriam and Audrey. More food at Marie # 1’s fifth floor walk-up, where Shari and Mitch are staying. Cor, Ange and I go back to Thomas’ and Marie # 2’s place, where their horny cat met us. Out of control. Long discussions til late in the night. By the way, I have just realized tonight that A) Marie #1 and Thomas are brother and sister and not a couple. B) Thomas and Marie #2 are a couple. C) Marie and Thomas have a brother.
Next morn we set off separately to run errands and shop. I buy an expensive, inconvenient plane ticket to Praha. The other girls have a shop-a-thon. They can’t control themselves. A sudden food meltdown almost leads us to another pricey meal but we avoid the collision and find a place where we have huge salads and yummy pizza for cheap.
Oh no! More shopping! Marie #2 was continually trying to tell us it was really time to go. Even I got into it. We hope they visit us soon.
Chapter 11: Bordeaux
We arrive in Bordeaux in the nick of time- the show was to start at 7:30. Where’s ‘boyfriend’ (former promoter of La Centrale who made his claim to fame 2 tours ago when he was French-kissing a girl while doing our sound and forgetting to put up the toy channel at all during the whole show). Who are these people? Anyway we enjoy salads in the back courtyard. Where’s Vincent (of Cheval de Frise)? Where’s Yann? Where are the people from “La Manoire”?
Beer’s warm so we go into the set straight. It’s going ok except the chatting starts. After every song they talk through, they roar with applause after. Everyone appears wasted, but on what? Some guy calls us “Oakland Pussy” in a strange French accent. Mitch replies “You’re not from my neighborhood”. A couple in front of us is making out passionately the whole set. There are a few focused ones in the front. After an encore we shoot off to an ‘Associative Restaurant’ down the street- who knew there was more food! All the audience was there in this tiny smoky place -- we are greeted by the chefs and a few bottles of nice wine and the following amazingly presented food:
Feta with olive oil and fava beans
Grilled zucchini with whipped cream and strawberry
Roasted red peppers and brown mushrooms
Marinated vegetable salad served in a yogurt glass with orange flower essence(!!!!)
Roasted Tomatoes with sesame seeds
Steamed cauliflower
Gateaux Basque
Cognac
More wine
Soon we were surrounded by the men in the crowd and they quickly became what we like to refer to as “Snaggle Tooths”. It got pretty rowdy, and luckily we did capture it on video. Pascal, the heckler, took turns trying to snuggle up on Mitch, Ange and Cor. The comb-over guy who told me I was “very pretty”. That other guy who was practically rubbing our backs. YIKES! Time to go.
Olivier, our host, and not by any means a snaggle tooth, has the smallest apartment I have ever seen. Shari and I got to share a child’s upper bunk. Cozy! -- Lexa
Chapter 12: Clermont Ferrand
Everyone wakes up a little or a lot hung over. After breakfast with Olivier, we set out on a country road to Clermont Ferrand. We arrive the earliest in history, find the address on the map and meet Bastien. We walk around the medieval streets and run a cross a record store with our Toy/Plonsey/Frith CD in the window. Turns out they have a whole section. Bought Yann Tiersen, Pascale Comelade, Dragibus: all French music presumably hard to find in Amiland. We went to the apartment above the club to eat – a stoner den occupied by some students. Chips-n-beer-n-salad-n-conversation. Our hosts -- Bastien: a sweet, quiet, smart-seeing one. Ben: a shyer, younger version. Gerald: a strung-out-looking nervous one. Fra Fra: chatty, scruffy with strange brit-meets-kiwi accent, plus girlfriends Sandrine and Francoise. Anyway, planned to play outside and suddenly it was a big rush to set up and sound check. But no sound person? She appeared after we had moved all her stuff around and she didn’t seem to want to have anything to do with anything.
We played to a somewhat attentive audience. It was really good to see Marylise and Eric of Vialka. They’re living in the countryside with her parents, just an hour outside of CF. The beer was cold, finally, and the sound was...Well, no monitors, so who knows? Eric described it as “shrill at times”. But there were some excited audience members. Who appears after the show but Stephane, our dear friend from Toulouse? He had been in Dijon visiting his parents when we were there and was en route back home. It was great to catch up with him. We ate some ratatouille made by Fra Fra and then went to Ben’s huge apartment, which had no resemblance to any other all-male apartment I had ever been in. We all got to spread out and had a luxurious sleep, hot shower, then coffee, pain au chocolat and strawberries and Bastien’s place before heading off again on the country roads to Dijon. -- Lexa
Chapter 13: Dijon
Have I mentioned that the state highways are FREE? Free, no money, no spending 50 euros a trip on tolls. If only we had known. Vive le difference! They also don’t have rest stops. The girls had an unfortunate visit through a forest path, which seemed to be used regularly for pooping, sex, and whatever else. Arriving in Dijon, we found the street immediately on the map. What a joy!
Les Tanneries is a huge, famous punk squat. I was to meet my cute little 18 year-old nephew there as he is roaming through Europe with his banjo. He was there, fitting right in, hair not washed for weeks, feet dirty with scraggly toenails, and bike grease all over his hands. Gotta love it, especially since he reminds me of some former boyfriends of my younger years. Unfortunately he was with a really irritating friend, a 24 year-old know-it-all who I wanted to smack. I almost felt embarrassed for him. Almost. They, and some other friends they had met on the road, show up. They were traveling with 5 euros between the three of them. Something triggered inside of me and I gave them shit about it. Somehow a person posing as poor, when they are actually privileged, really rubs me the wrong way.
The show rocked -- we were so loose. There were a bunch of other bands and theater projects, most memorable of which the rocking Clara Clara, who apparently are going to be on our label SK. All of us girls had a major mosh pit moment. We sold one of each CD to a guy named Greg, then someone stole a pair of Toychestra underwear. Eventually we made it to bed inside a tent in what appeared to be an art studio/autonomous zone in one of the buildings. Mattresses! All right, a cozy den just for us. I fell asleep right away but apparently the party kept going til we all awoke to the sound of bombs going off. Corey said “What the fuck?” from her bed. Heard a few more but fell back into a not-so-deep sleep as I was paranoid I wouldn’t get to see Nico, our contact there, before we left so we could get paid. Lots of noise and chit chat around the place all night long and then I recognized Nico’s voice and jumped out of bed. I had some cowboy coffee with no milk, which I enjoy, checked email, and spoke to the people there. Then my nephew’s friend came around saying he had inadvertently woken up the girls. I went to see them and it was a little toxic smelling. Someone had been spray painting right outside the tent. Gnarly! One of the residents explained the bomb sounds from the middle of the night- some stupid drunk people had lit fires and threw spray paint cans inside. Good idea!
The girls were ready to run as far away from there as possible. Shari said she never wanted to play in conditions like that again. So we stopped in town for coffee and made our way to Metz. I never saw my nephew again, but am sure he is doing well and hope he’s ditched his obnoxious friend. -- Lexa
Chapter 14: Metz
We decided to take the Autoroute to Metz, a short drive. We had to meet Emma Zunz, but knew we’d arrive later than they so we went straight to the station, after getting a bit lost and accidentally passing the club en route. Metz is gorgeous, filled with gardens and greenery. We waited over coffee, everyone pretty exhausted from last night’s fiasco. I called Vero [above], our hostess, and she met us at the train station. What a vision of loveliness! It was very refreshing to see a bright and gorgeous person in our tired eyes. Oh my. No EZ -- oh well. We went to the club and they were there already. Jean Pierre, the club owner, was a handsome Italian who had been treating them to different wines. It was a really small place, and we would have to play above everyone, on a different level, sort of the opposite of Zurich. But there was no other way. We went back to Vero’s place after sound check and then Shari and I went to Miriam’s (her girlfriend) place to bathe. What a glorious bath that was, after the grime and lack of sleep of the day before. We went back to Vero’s and all the other girls were lying about, ready to sleep, but showered and dressed. When we got to the club we could barely walk in- it was completely packed. Ange and I went to a restaurant down the block to get changed. My zipper broke as I was getting dressed and had to make my way with an open back. We couldn’t even go inside to watch Emma Zunz.
When we played the crown was rowdy and ready. The sound was pretty bad as it was bouncing all over the place in that weird loft. My dress kept slipping off but luckily I had my Toychestra sports bra on, so it wasn’t too ridiculous. Maybe that’s why we sold so many CDs? DJ Mini Sushi played 80’s hits after while Jean Pierre fed us more wine and beer. Many of the audience members were outgoing and friendly. A totally satisfying experience. Cristin and I slept at Vero’s and Miriam’s, but first stopped back at the bar to have yet another drink. Vero decided she would head to Paris with us the next day. Miriam wanted her to stay for some brunch appointment but she was way too sick the next day to get out of bed. --Lexa
Chapter 15: Paris
Everyone was pretty burnt out on the drive to Paris. We even stopped at the Autogrille for lunch. Finally there was something for Cristin to eat (she’s allergic to wheat so the Euro food experience didn’t necessarily treat her well). Vero called a bunch of friends from the road and even got directions to the place. We found it and got to park inside. It is a new artists’ squat in Belleville that does mostly theater and dance, plus has studios. We were to be their first concert. Joris was our host and was scrambling to get together some mic stands for us. Meanwhile we snacked and chatted with the residents and looked at the art on the walls. It was a really cool place, only open for 4 months so far. About 15 people live there, and 100 work there. Great neighborhood, beautiful building (the former ministry of education), good people. Plus it’s nice to see an alternative to punk-oriented squatting, non? Also cool was that Joris found someone to drive the van back to Lyon, so Nico didn’t have to take a train up to Paris to then just drive it back.
The ex-lover (a.k.a. The Serb) showed up, and explained himself, and of course it is my nature to forgive and forget. We toy gals were a bit in tears when Emma Zunz played. There was something so heavy about tonight: the end of tour, time to let go of all of it. We played and I felt almost dead, like I wasn’t giving anything to the audience, as I was so tired. Apparently it didn’t come off that way. The audience was respectful and warm.
We all shared a yum yum Vietnamese dinner afterwards, and drank a lot of wine. The next morning we brought Corey to catch a cab, which took a while. Later we took Emma Zunz to the metro as they were headed to Lyon for their last show. Angela felt ill, but we walked around and enjoyed the hood. I had lunch with The Serb, and finally saw what was behind the gates of that building where I stood at 3am. Then it was my turn to get the metro to the airport.
I felt a deep sadness to leave that place (time to move to Paris?) and the girls, but also relief to get on with the next project in CZ. Finally I arrived at Ch. De G. and checked in at the Smartwings desk, which I wasn’t really sure would exist. But here I am, writing this from my desk in Tabor. The journey was long as I arrived in Praha at 11p.m., then took a bus to the metro, 2 metro lines to the train, waited for the train and then 1& ½ hours to Tabor. Petra and Hil were late getting me so I took a cab. As I stepped into the mill the musty air reminded me I was home. -- Lexa
