adrienne's Tour Diary

I woke up with a stuffed animal horse under my shoulders, a comfort against the hardwood floor. There was a young man in the doorway eating pasta, surprised to see us in the living room. He closed the door and we never saw him again. Gareth had to be at work by 9:30 so we got ready in a hurry so as not to delay him, but when we tried to get out the front door it was locked. There were a number of closed doors and we guessed correctly which one Gareth was in. After the door was opened, we rolled our suitcases to the van on the narrow street as the recycling and garbage collectors came by.
Dan drove us back to Bath, our favorite carpark with the wall for us to park the back of the van against for security. We returned to Starbucks as well, to check email and download Google maps for the the next week. It was sunny in Bath, very beautiful. I got cash at Lloyds TSB. Dan and I had breakfast from a bakery, 50p ham and cheese pasties. Before we left Bath, around 1, we stopped into Devon Savouries and 3 of us had mature cheddar and salad sandwiches; Chris W tried the sausage roll. We ate in the plaza with the pigeons and the abbey's flying butteresses overlooking us.
We got to London by 4 pm to unload, since everyone was going to backline off our Dutch gear. We passed The Garage, but it was on the other side of the street, and when we tried to turn to get back to it, we somehow ended up seemingly miles away in Hackney I think. I called Rachel, the Silver Rocket promoter, and Andy gave us detailed directions back to the club. We unloaded through the back and carried our gear across the main downstairs club, behind the bar, into the kitchen, through a 4 foot tall gap, up 3 stairs, to the landing, up about 15 more stairs, and into the Upstairs room. There was a metal show going on downstairs.
The second band showed up first and it turns out they'd played with Thee More Shallows a few weeks ago AND they know Gay Dogs. We talked with Miyuki from The Rogers Sisters for awhile--they were just in France, renting French gear, and are off to Australia next. We didn't have time for a soundcheck so we headed out to The White Swan, which Rachel Silver recommended for its affordability and Dan and I got the special: 2 dinners for 5 lbs. 85 p. [There isn't a pound symbol available in TextEdit]. Chris G. had a (pig and bird) salad and Chris W got the lamb shank. We met Rachel outside (she lives nearby) and went to an Italian place for coffees. She came back to the club with us and we learned that the show had sold out. I tried to find Rachel the promoter in the club to ask how I could get Shoma and her friend in, but I was unsuccessful. Michaela's brother, Chris, was there--hadn't seen him in 10 years--with his girlfriend and friend. I was happy they'd gotten in before the door closed. I went to call Shoma outside and ran into her--hadn't seen her in 10 years either and she looks just the same as when we hauled a drum kit a mile in the road on my skateboard and into her attic room in Hull to play music. The door person was strict about not letting in any more people since the room was at its max, but after about 10 minutes of shouting things like, "I can't believe this! It's such a shame!" he let Shoma and Turin in. We went straight to the bar.
The 2nd band, which I will call HostMexicans here, to avoid misspelling their full name, rocked loud and heavy, loved them. After they finished we pulled our guitars from the back room, which had become crowded and humid. It was super hot on the stage and I regretted wearing a long sleeve shirt but remembered that I'd applied extra deodorant earlier and felt confident. The set was a lot of fun, went really quickly though, and we had to cut Dark for time. After the set I lost my bag and then found it again. We set up a merch table and tried to hear what people were saying to us. Ollie and Sarah came, and one of the guys in HostMexicans is a friend of hers from university--she'd seen their first ever show. Turin bought more drinks and I talked with him and Shoma near the back of the club.
The Rogers Sisters came on next and filled the room with sound. I met Lisa from TskTsk, a fellow San Franciscan, and she says hello to Torkel. The disco began and Shoma was shocked when I told her that people in San Francisco don't dance like this. I wandered downstairs to the minibar--it seems to me that there are bars around every corner here, doorways that lead to upstairs clubs, attics with teacups in them. I lost track of time and in the hallway Dan and I learned that Miyuki is from Hawaii too--he went to Kamehameha. We talked about li hing mui and crack seed, the great snack with the unfortunate name. 2:00. People had been dancing for some time. We didn't want to have to carry everything back through the "hobbit hole" so Dan pulled the van to the front of the club, where there was a young man throwing up in a coordinated and successful manner so that he didn't get himself or anything else dirty. It was raining. We got back to Sarah's around 4 a.m., made cheese on toast, and then passed out.