Hit the Road

The tour bus came yesterday - a Red Car double decker.  As luck would have it, it was suggested that I take the bunk in the front lounge, which means more space for me! It probably means that my little cove will also be a hang out spot, but that's cool, I like company. 

"Who's in the front lounge?". 

"Jodi is." 

Kuba, our Polish guitar tech turns to me, "You drink vodka?". 

"Yep." 

"OK." 

With that, any fears that the guys might resent me for getting the sweet bunk were diminished.

So far my time in Gelsenkirchen has consisted of a trip to the festival grounds for a meet-n-greet with fans, and a bit of exploring today. While the walk earlier didn't prove to be very interesting, the weather was beautiful and I couldn't complain about the scenery.  Later I went for a run and discovered a stadium. It's so nice to roll up on a place and find trails just waiting for me to get my exercise on! And when I saw the area (of which there were several) for bike parking - holy crap! I had to snap a pic. Check it put Philly - this is how it's done…

Oh! I almost forgot the craziest thing that happened yesterday. I turned on the tv and stumbled across some German channel. Noticing a bunch of metal heads on the program I stopped to watch for a few. Turned out the story was about a metal cruise - and who popped up on the tv? The girl that picked me up from the airport! How random is that?? I wish I could remember her name - Stetska? If you ever read this, say hi!

Willkommen

The first time I flew out to work with King Diamond I knew no one. No crew, no band, and had no idea what would happen when I arrived at the airport. Obviously I've gotten to know everyone by now, but crew members change, and over the years I have still never known who would be coming to retrieve me. I've grown to enjoy this little mysterious ritual. Oddly enough, I wound up explaining to two different friends this past week how often its a stranger who picks me up but somehow we always just know when we see each other. I chuckled when each person asked if a person would be waiting for me with my name on a sign. No, that's never happened.

I stepped off my flight and followed the masses to passport control. The officer asked me how long I'd be staying and his eyes popped at my response. "How many days is that?" "I dunno, like 3 months". Out came his calendar and with it my nerves. I know my tour manager knew what he was doing when he booked my flight, but if there was any question I didn't have anything to argue with - work visas and any paperwork were in management's hands, not mine. "90 days. That's perfect, but you have to leave that day, you cannot stay another day."

Whew!

Relieved, I collected my bag from the carousel and started walking. All I knew is that a girl should be picking me up (what girl? I've never been picked up by a girl before - like that matters). I spotted her right away, and she in turn knew me by the laughter I couldn't hold back... as I looked at her little handwritten sign: JODI CACHIA