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A LONG WAY FROM HOME
ACTORS in Poland and Hungary
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We have been home about a week and I think I’ve finally kicked the jet lag. We had such a good trip. Even when everything goes well, the adventure of tour keeps us guessing from moment to moment. As I read through some of my notes, I can see I was having some tough days in Poland and Hungary:
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The drive towards Warsaw takes us through a granite mining town. For several kilometres, graveyard dioramas decorate the roadside to show off their best headstone designs. Will a Spirit Halloween store set up shop in the empty lot nearby? Despite the fun, cool show at the Castle last night, my mood is a bit low. I’ve been in the van for eight hours. I’m tired, hungry. My teeth feel fuzzy, my Docs are swampy. I don’t want to concern the others, but my throat is a bit sore. I’m a little worried all the hustle before the trip is catching up with me. I hope I’m not getting a cold (or worse).
I’m feeling a bit alien in Poland. I can’t read or speak Polish to save my life (why are there so many consonants?!) and none of the common phrases or pronunciations stick in my brain. The shows are always uplifting and energizing though. Warsaw is packed, and we play to a sold out crowd. The fans are super sweet; gracious, kind people.
Today we drove through four countries, deeper and deeper into Eastern Europe. We arrive in Budapest and I look at one of my Apple Air Tags that was left in Vancouver, and it says we are 8,525kms from home. That night I feel something on the bed, and I thought it was one of the cats. No, just a hotel ghost.
At breakfast, Ibis features a pancake-maker that operates like a cartoon food factory. It farts out a little pancake batter, cooks it while you watch, and then a system of coloured conveyor belts deliver a stack of pancakes right before your eyes. I’m in line waiting to use this thing, barely awake, when a young boy budges in front of me. No parents around, so I grant him a free pass and think to myself “Enjoy your pancakes lil dude!” and he promptly sneezes all over the pancake tray and the Nutella dispenser. Well, no pancakes for me today. I guess it was not meant to be.
It’s not a great start to the day. The coffee is bad. My simplistic dream of pancakes for breakfast has been destroyed right before my eyes. I’m uncomfortable in my body, my throat and sinuses hurt, and I can’t seem to put an outfit together for the show tonight. None of my usual clothes look or feel right, and I’m crying quietly over a suitcase of stage clothes that resemble a pile of black garbage bags. Realizing the absurdity, I start to explain to Jason how I’m feeling and now we’re both laughing hysterically. It’s just not a real tour until you’re cry-laughing about body-dysmorphia in Budapest. It’s all going to be okay. I dry my eyes and get dressed.
More soon XO