Notes from Das boot 193

On a ferry between Calais and Dover, 6:30am

Just played the AB in Brussels which is one of the best clubs to play over here. Real top notch from top to bottom. Brussels itself is a beautiful old city that’s kind of rundown and sketchy, there’s more than a few people around who could be legitimately described as riffraff. Paco has a friend who described Belgium as “the Kentucky of Europe”. And while I think that’s painting the country with a broad brush, there was a bunch of drunken louts looking for fights who wouldn’t have been out of place back home staggering around in mesh back caps swilling Coors Light.
A frightening, no-win endeavor that bedevils any tour lasting more than two weeks. I wash t-shirts in the hotel room sink on days off and throw away socks and underwear. This seems to work but then there’s the problem with jeans and regular shirts, they can’t be washed in a hotel sink and they’re not going to be thrown out. So you wait and plan. There are two ways to go. You can search for a laundromat on a day off, or you can wait for a club that has a washer/dryer. Both of these options are bad. Searching for a laundromat on a day off is a long, soul crushing slog but it’s better than the alternative. Europe (especially Germany) has no clue about home washers and dryers, which are the kind that clubs use. Slow and terrible, it goes like this. Somebody, usually the tour manager will announce that an upcoming club has a washer and dryer. This sets off the kind of frenzy that one would associate with a gold rush. Alliances are made , “I don’t have a lot of stuff, can I throw it in with yours?”. The washer is overcrowded but workable and the waiting line for the washer is long, the problem is the dryer.
The dryers here don’t dry, you put cold damp clothes in and two hours later you get warm damp clothes. Then panic sets in, there’s a bottleneck from the slow dryer so it’s hours until the last batch of laundry gets done. But the clothes NEVER dry, so more panic sets in and there’s a mad dash for any available radiator to lie the damp clothes on. There’s never enough radiators so there’s a radiator backlog. The end of the night ( this is always on a show day), after load out when we have to retreat to the bus, there’s always a couple of people leaving with not exactly dry laundry. The thing is we know the dryers are shit over here but like lemmings we always march over the cliff carrying bundles of warm damp clothes.

Brussels. Not only known for their statue of the pissing child, they try to work peeing into everything, witness the pissing French Fry or frite as they say

  1. The pissing French fry is the real reason your clothing is warm and damp

  2. That scenario will provoke nightmares for a mighty long time.

  3. ahh piss-fries! kind of like salt and vinegar potato chips?

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