Grusewsky. A cafe bar on the main road in Emden. There was a dog there. As soon as we got there he started barking at us and before we got inside the door we were told not to try pet him, as he bites. My first impressions were that this might be a tough gig to get through. But life was to humble me and my assumptions as it turned out to be one of the most fun nights of the tour. We played a gig to a rowdy and appreciative crowd. Just what I was in the mood for! You can't sing love ballads to a dog. Hackan, the owner, bought us dinner and treated us like life long friends, offering us two hundred bottles of beer, as if daring us to take up the challenge. I toyed with the idea, but regained my composure and settled for a little less. After the show we talked with the locals and after a tequila and some tomato concoction that I cant recall the name of, I somehow found myself at a foozball table at the back of the bar. Another occasion where my ego was to be humbled as Hackan proceeded to score against me from every angle possible. Part of me wants to say it was a doubles game so it wasn't all my fault but that just gives my American partner a chance to drag my name through the mud in his blog. So I accept defeat and move onto darts. Another game I'm terrible at. I beat Eric by the grace of luck and quickly moved on. So thank you Hackan for your hospitality. The hardest place to leave and the greatest dog who ever lived!
Next day we got to Vegesack again. A small town where we played a show in a church close to the start of the tour. We were in a club called Kito. Big stairs. At the top, they had refurbished the attic space into a beautiful live music room with an amazing sound system. We were without the company of Eric on this trip so we had a longer set. Nice for me as we got to put in some songs we had excluded from the set for a little while. I think it was the best set we played since we got here and I've started playing a couple of intimate solo songs in the middle too, which adds a nice dynamic. Kevin did a fine job behind the desk and all went well, as to be expected. There was a window right beside the stage looking down onto the streets. I love the streets over here.
So we plod our way to the next city. Celle (pronounced Tselluh), parked the car, and decided to go look for a restaurant or bar as we were a little early. I'm sure we were all visibly shocked as we turned the corner to the main street. Once again I'm brought back to some medieval time of fables, thieves, assassins and fairy tales. We sat down at a cafe and ate. With a belly full of meat and Weissbeir we get to the cultural centre we're due to play at. Reminds me of an old jazz club. I picture Jack Kerouac at the piano talking about old Dean Moriarty and asking the smoking cats if they know God is Pooh Bear. The lights are warm onstage and the air is cool outside. I enjoy both and we head home for Bremen after the show. Another good nights sleep. Another beautiful morning. Another trip. Here we come Hamburg.
Paul.
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| 'Grusewsky' in Emden, Germany. |
