Dinner and Düsseldorf

Never eat whilst eating spaghetti.

Never laugh whilst eating spaghetti.

After our little sports session in the park yesterday, The Whitest Boy Alive went back to Hive Club to rehearse a bit. We went to the backstage area to chill. When the others had finished rehearsing, they joined us, and we had a fine time shooting ducks (there was a game that was all about shooting small yellow ducks moving over a plate with a remote revolver. As the pictures show, we all had different styles when it came to shooting.) Then Trebbi tried to use Adrian’s MacBook Pro. It resulted in him screaming out “Helvete” as the screen scrolled when he didn’t want it to. Then we decided to eat at a place that our contact at the Hive Club had recommended.

'You talkin' to me?'
‘You talkin’ to me?’
'I missed one of the small yellow motherfuckers!'
‘I missed one of the small yellow motherfuckers!’

Yesterday’s dinner was both a pleasure and a nightmare. The restaurant – an italian place a 15 minutes walk away from the Hive Club – looked like a scene from ‘The Godfather’. The guy at Hive hadn’t been kidding when he told us it was like a mafia place. We got two tables in a relatively small room. In the corner, there were old Italian men sitting, playing a card game from the home country. Erlend wanted to join in, but they didn’t get his hinting. We automatically arranged ourselves so that there was one children’s table and one for the “grown-ups”. But, as Marcin commented, we were all having “children’s food” — spaghetti bolognese. A course which of course would have been excellent. If we hadn’t been stupid enough to soak it in “olive oil” before we’d tasted the food. The oil turned out to include extremely hot chilis or something. Imagine drinking a glass of burning petrol. So, we lost our ability to taste anything for the next couple of hours. Johan was almost the only one clever enough to wait for us to taste before adding the hot shit. Nevertheless, afterwards he destroyed himself on the grappa we got for dessert.

Dangerous stuff.

Dangerous stuff.

There was a nice subway on the way back where we could do some tricks.

There was a nice subway on the way back where we could do some tricks.

After the meal, which of course was a success for most of us, we went back to the bus (except for the ones who went to the pub nearby to catch the rest of a football match being shown on TV). We popped some beers, Erlend took out his brilliant Gruyère cheese and Italian sausage, there was also wine, and we started watching “Die Hard”. It had gone about five minutes before this film was exchanged for a behind the scenes-documentary about Sting & The Police.

Today we all woke up in Düsseldorf. Some of us went jogging, we had a marvellous breakfast as always, and afterwards some of us went to a music store nearby to buy drum heads and guitar strings. We even got a pineapple shaker for free. Now the whitest boys are soundchecking/rehearsing, while the rest of us hang around backstage, taking it easy, eating fruit and cheese. The cheese you can get here is incredible.

According to Marcin, The Whitest Boy Alive’s show here in Düsseldorf last year was amazing (and it was even a Monday), so we hope that tonight will be good. If just Johan and Stian get better, they’re feeling a bit ill.


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