Escape From Satan's Hollow

I'm in Virginia today, in the midst of our tour of all places bizarre. We started at a gymnasium in Rochester. Here's Calla, the support band (rad) going on in what appears to be broad daylight.















Then played a casino in Atlantic City...




























... and now I'm lounging on a leather couch in a converted health club. It is an Interpol tour for sure. It rained.

















And there were undiscernably odd things on the menu.

















I have a pretty sweet bunk on the bus. It has a shelf, and a small window that actually opens. All thoughts of Cliff Burton aside, it's nice to see the sunshine in the morning and feel a cool breeze on my face at night.



















It is, however, a bit of a comfort being back in the states. It got grim for a while. Towards the end of the last tour I was done with all the festivals and all of the flights.
















By the time made it to the UK I never wanted to see another human being in a field playing a guitar ever again. It was a nice thing that we were playing The Astoria. Interpol and 'Gay,' totally unrelated.















We were then ushered into historic Ballsbridge, Ireland in anticipation of the Oxygen festival. The worst of the worst.















The road into the festival....here it comes.















The site.
















Shit sandwich.















There was this guy, however, who was shouting drunken nonsense at us on the way in.
















I thought his shirt was hilarious, only because he was wearing it.















I was also witness to a bit of traditional Irish folk art. Special, really.















En Masse

















But the winner really is our escape from T in the Park, the festival in Glasgow, and the last before I flew home. After watching Brian Jonestown Massacre (great),















Mark Lanegan (hmmmm),















and Rodrigo Y Gabriella (also great)


















We had until 10:45pm to make it through this little gate with our bus before they shut down the only road out to let 60,000 people file back to their campsites, holes, or wherever they planned on spending the night. We didn't make it.















We tried bribing the security guards with whatever we had, but to no avail. We ended up watching 60,000 people file past our bus before we were able to leave. Bob 'anger management' Lewis threw an entire wheel of Brie over the fence into the crowd in protest.
















We made it to our hotel at around 2:30am. I checked out at 5. It was a magical day all around. Not long after it was back to California. Yep, California without a doubt.