Sicilia

by Pete

Wednesday December 27 2006

Hello dear tour diary, and apologies for the neglect over the past weeks. Sometimes the events of the day and week take all I have to give, and it is hard to find the words and energy to sum it all up.
I’m not quite sure when my last entry was, but I am sure that a lot has happened since then – Europe, and Christmas and many miles travelled. As I type now, it is from a hotel ‘lounge’ in Catania – the city where my mother was born – as we wait for yet another ambiguous Italian appointment to be met. The folks here sure do have a strange relationship with time and place. It seems that it must always be left absolutely fluid, perhaps to allow for lunch to be extended by half an hour should the desire arise, or in case someone has decided to park in the middle of the road jamming up the cities streets, which isn’t altogether unusual. No wonder Italians seem so comfortable standing and chatting at bars, drinking innumerable espressos and snacking… no doubt all waiting for someone or other to arrive.
We are well past the half way point of the tour now, and on one hand have really settled in to the routine, and on the other are being overwhelmed by a new level of deep seated tiredness. Today, as I battled yet another crap shower that fills around your feet during the duration, and then goes stone cold only once you are nicely lathered up, all the while assessing my game plan for the toilet that refused to flush and threatened to overflow, I really started to wish for home and its consistencies. And anyone who knows my living situation over the past two and a half years would know that it is hardly comfortable in the traditional sense, or terribly consistent for that matter (I have been living basically within my friends coffee shop), but still, I know what to expect of the shower even though it lacks pressure, and the toilet works, even if I used to have to wait in line with everyone else to use it. But on tour, every single minute of your life holds another possible adventure, and every time you hit the flush button it is accompanied by a prayer that the moment will pass without incident and that you can get on with your day without another awkward interaction.
Christmas this year was one to be remembered - with the families of our good friends here in Italy. Even now, a few days later, Karl is still full and eating sparingly accordingly. We ate and drank very very well, and it is a really special thing to receive the hospitality of other families on such a day. Although, of course, if you are going to feel homesick at any time it is going to be on Christmas day and that proved true.
This is our second time here in Sicily, but the first was such a blur I barely count it. We drove all night and arrived in the morning, then slept and played and then left again at the crack of dawn. This time we are here for three days and have much more of a chance to get to know the place. It is especially interesting for me as half of my upbringing was with my Sicilian family, and I guess I’ve never really had the chance to pin certain parts of my heritage down before. One thing I have noticed since being here is that Sicilian boys waste no time in going straight for the food and snacks when entering a room – very naturally and not out of greed though. Just as though that is what you do – arrive and eat. It makes me feel better about my instincts.
For the first time ever in my life, I am using borrowed basses for these shows, and we are two our of four down. The first night was very full on… the bass didn’t materialise until well into the night, despite consistent promises of its imminent arrival, and when it did it was clear that it wasn’t a hired bass, but a poor neglected instrument that was in a deep sleep and under a thick coat of dust. Given how we have been getting around – in multiple tiny cars – I can see why I was encouraged to agree to this arrangement rather than bringing my own, but to be honest, I don’t know what I was thinking. The best analogy I can muster for anyone who is not a musician, because anyone who is would instantly understand, is to driving a car for the first time… you know what it is and where everything should be, but the clutch is different, and the brakes, and sometimes the indicator stick is on the other side etc. But borrowing a double bass is kind of like requesting a Mercedes sedan, and getting a 1960’s semitrailer, and then being expected to drive it on a street race through the centre of Naples with no chance to practice!!! It really is a wild and crazy situation, and it feels like the earth is moving beneath your feet as you search aimlessly for the notes in the dark. The bass last night was almost the opposite – a loved Eastern European instrument which arrived (albeit late once again) under the escort of its owner who rightfully kept his watchful eye on it all night. But he is a classical player and the bass is set up for his needs which are different from my own, so it wasn’t the smoothest of rides, but by no fault of the bass.
The venue last night was great, as was the crowd, and the dinner, and the wine. It all would have been perfect, except for one incredible misfortune.. the promoter had somehow managed to get a full sized Steinway Grand Piano in there for us. To my knowledge, there isn’t a better piano in the world. Steinway and Sons.; Full size grand piano. Probably worth more than I’ll make in my lifetime. But it laid dormant and covered for the duration of the concert because the holder of the key to the lid which covers the keyboard was nowhere to be found. It was an incredible situation that no one could quite believe, and perhaps only possible given the luck we seem to be attracting on the tour.
45 minutes later and we are still waiting… time for another espresso I think…