November 1st: Travel Day
I was right about the hangover. It’s 5pm before I even think about getting out of bed, and just standing up hurts.
We cant make Berlin in a single hit, so we’ve got as far as we can before taking a break, and that’s Hannover. Hannover used to be quite a happening city, but these days it’s a bit dead, especially tonight. We wander around town in the freezing cold, me still in my shorts, until we find a bar that’s actually open. Within 15 minutes we’re into the cocktails. I swore when I got up that I’d never drink again … that didn’t last long.
Cocktail Hour 
Tom doing nothing to dispel the ‘Timmy Mallett’ comparisons 
It was so cold this guy got frozen on top of a deer. Which got frozen to a table. Which got frozen to the singer from a UK popular musical trio.
After a few hours we wander off, looking for a rock club that one of the waiters directed us to … we never find it. We do however find a Greek restaurant that has a bar, so it’s beer and kebabs all around, and a damn fine kebab mine was too.
It’s not long before everyones feeling the effects of the hangover, flushed with cocktail, and compacted with kebab, and we’re all bound for bed.
November 2nd: White Trash – Berlin - Germany
I was really worried about this gig. All the emails about it were titled WTFF … I couldn’t figure out what the FF stood for until a few days ago. The venue is actually called White Trash Fast Food. We’re playing in a restaurant.
Alexander Platz, Train Station and tower. 
Obligatory ‘big sign outside the venue’ shot
We get there and with some intrepidation wander into the building to see how bad it’s going to be. It’s actually a really cool bar that does food, not really a restaurant at all. The other surprise to me is the guy who booked the band top play is Joe Rambock. Quite a big name in Germany and someone I’ve worked with many times before. He also owns part of the venue, and Motor FM, the biggest radio station in Berlin. A combination of the three is going to make today very nice indeed.
Fish’n’chips, White Trash style
It’s not like a real venue, it’s just a ittle stage, not a great PA, but we’re well looked after by the staff so eveyones in a great mood. We get a load of little vouchers for food and drink, each worth three euros. At the end of the meal, no one takes any vouchers from us. I ask Joe just to make sure we’re not ripping him off, he says just to forget it and use them for drinks … there’s about 100 of them. This could get messy.
Martin and his new pet Zebra.
After the show things do indeed get rather messy. There are rounds and rounds of Jagermeister and the pile of tokens doesn’t seem to be getting any smaller.
By the end of the night, some of the crew, who shall remain nameless, but are short and mix the sound for the band, are like Mr Creosote from the Monty Python movie; using the last token to try and force done one more drink before we have to leave.
Another night done. Another day, in another country, tomorrow.
November 3rd: Stengade30 – Copenhagen – Denmark
It’s a beautiful sunny day in Copenhagen, but it’s very cold again. I did actually manage to go and buy some long trousers yeasterday in Berlin, but after all the jokes about me in my shorts, I’m determined to keep wearing them. I’m stubborn like that.
Copenhagen 
A little toilet reading.
We’re a few hours early to get into the club so a few of us go for a wander to find some lunch. We come across a great little place that does a fantastic ‘brunch’ that consists of bacon, eggs, sausages, cheese, ham, salad, fresh fruit, and a big pile of bread. Seems like a strange combination, but it’s all really nice.
Back at the venue, we get loaded in and soundchecked then there’s some interviews to do. Most of the press were at the MTV EMA’s last night and are still too hungover to turn up. Bunch of arse.
One of the guys who does arrive tells us that they actually held auditions for the audience, making sure no ugly people made it into the crowd that would be caught on camera … what a fucking joke.
Copenhagen: where old bikes go to die.
I’ve said in tales of my travels before it’s easy to tell from the women that you’re getting out of Europe and into Scandinavia. The percentage of insanely good looking women goes through the roof. They seem to be everywhere. It must be some strange Scandinavian law that if you have an ugly child, they have to be locked in the basement for as long as they live.
Anyway, it’s a pretty uneventful day. Not much to say really.
