Austria. Beautiful land of order and confusion. Beautiful, as in check out the view from my bedroom window this morning. Order, as in we had a random passport check on the freeway and Kevin had to give his birth date, passport number, and detailed information about his education in order to get paid for the workshop we are doing tomorrow. Confusion, as in even our contact, the wonderful Veronica Berchtold, got lost trying to find our hotel (really a three bedroom apartment in the Alps) last night. Switchback roads are the norm here. We (she and I) spent an hour driving around before the part of my brain that can’t separate from my band mates forced me to tell her to take me back to the lumber yard.
The Austrian leg of our tour began with a trip to Fuegen, a tourist town in the Tirol region. The GPS took us to a lumber yard. More like a huge mill, really.
As we drove past, assuming that our venue must be hidden nearby, Keith commented, “I’ve never played a lumberyard.” Well, now he has. Over the years on these tours we have played theaters, bars, schools, shooting clubs, living rooms, garden centers and flower shops. But wherever we play we are welcomed. Except Bonanza. We must not speak of Bonanza.
Right now we are all hanging around our kitchen. Keith is making eggs. The woman who runs this hotel is doing our laundry. We are less than an hour from our show this evening. It’s a good morning.