En route to Vienna 8am
I haven’t broken the four hour sleep mark on the bus yet. It usually takes about two weeks to be able to get what resembles a full nights sleep. I mean, fuck it’s a really nice bus but sleeping in the small bunks (about the size of a generous coffin) takes awhile to get used to, even after all these years. So I’ll grab a coffee and a piece of fruit, if it’s fresh (the clementines have been good lately) and sit in the front upstairs lounge. “Lounge” makes it seem a lot classier than it is, it’s a bus seat in front of all the bunks right by the front window. For me this is the best place on the bus, the closest thing to waking solitude the bus has to offer and solitude is the most prized possession on tour. The highway we’re on could be anywhere, a bizzaro world version of the New Jersey turnpike. It’s snowing and gray, the windows are tinted and caked with grime so even a sunny day doesn’t seem that sunny ( it’s like the bus is saying, “alright sunny, take it down a notch”) and a shitty day is that much more bleak. Listening to the first Neu! album, it fits this drive like a glove.