Thursday, 01 October 2009

Oops... forgot to upload the Florence pictures with the last post, so let's start with them.  Was asking Tour Mole why - in his opinion - do we call it Florence when it's actual name is Firenze?  I always find the local term more interesting than our adaptation.  Take Cologne for example.  I think Köln is so much better!!! anyway, here are the missing photos...

The alley


Main bridge West


Main bridge East


Church/Chapel in the centre


Scooter central



I wrote the previous post at the venue in Rome, out on a balcony backstage overlooking some ruins, to the sound of cicadas singing their hypnotic twilight songs.  I say hypnotic because to me the sound of crickets is associated with being on holiday, but I imagine if you heard it every day in life it may be more monotonous than anything else.  The ruins that I overlooked during last night's blog was in the middle of one of Rome's largest venues, which leads me to the conclusion that no matter where you dig in Rome you're gonna find an archeologists dream!  What a place!

The drive to Milano (now doesn't that feel better on the tongue that Milan!?) was a mere 365 miles, one for each day of the year.  Every time we stopped I drank an espresso, which in turn made me quite the manic passenger for the poor Tour Mole. He's already upset that I'm telling everyone he's an awful driver, so the fact that I was double twitchy today made him somewhat irrate with the very sight of me.  So, in an effort to turn my attention from his driving I watched another film.  This time it was a film called 'Lars and the real girl", and in my humble opinion, if you have a heart that beats, you will love it!  What a beautiful film. The guy that acts Lars is outstanding.  Good enough to make you seek out anything else he's ever been in.

Another thing that happened today, that added to my twitchy-ness was getting a call from my daughter's school, telling me I need to come immediately as she has fallen and cut her head open on a table!!!! I was freaking out, to the point of feeling like I might be sick.  I didn't know where to put myself.  I think it's called parental guilt!  My baby's hurt, and I'm not there to do anything about it, to hold her, tell her it's all OK, to say "I'm here".... it was awful!  She's a tough wee cookie so it didn't really phazer her that much, but I was at my wits end, calling every other second for updates.  If anything she was quite pleased with her new scar.  Can you believe it!  That wee'n has been in casualty so often that it's only a matter of time now before social services come knowcking on my door... "Mr Vance!  What on earth are you doing to that wee girl!?"  I'm hoping that this accedent prone stuff is just a childhood matter as I don't think I could bear it into the teenage years; I'd be an almighty shadow of my former self.

Moving on.  I'm now backstage at the gig in Milan and listening to Tori go for gold downstairs.  She just played 'Winter'... I forgot how wonderful that song is!!

So... here's some more phone pics of today's events, and some pics of crew members, all of which pulled ridiculous faces that make them look either mad or 'not all there'!


Looking forward to a late evening off in Paris tomorrow night... till then...f

Ruins in the midst of a venue


Olive groves everywhere


Danny ( of the Mick & Danny catering extravaganza)


Mick (the other half.... but only in the catering sense)


Bill, pulling his nonplussed face...this guy runs the show!


Evo - always looks like this!  Can't see him without laughing now...such an up guy!


When in Rome