In-“Vigo”-rating

Vigo is a beautiful little port city in the upper northwest of Spain.  Very lively nightlife, lotsa youngvolk & great clubs.  The show was wonderful for the band — running on all cylinders regardless of the conditions dictated by the clubs’ equipment.  Onstage sound was tolerable & the fans loved it.

Afterwards, a few of us managed to visit a club called Mombagamba or something like that, right next to the club LaIguana which was our intended destination.  We had a couple of nice local guides with us, and a lot of people from the show had ended up there, including the support band who were very good.  We posed in a lot of probably embarassing fotos with the locals, and every TomDick&Harry was buying me drinks… not to mention the DJ who was hotstuff & playing some wicked tunes, the kind that actually make ol’ Mr. Wrecker get his boogie on.  Nevertheless, even though it was Saturday night, I was the single room & we had a noon bus-call the next day, the local smoke variety & a few tequilas began to take their toll on my weary soul, & hinted that I oughta get home… fortunately, Keko found me a bit clueless outside on the streets & he was still coherent enough to know where to go, so we went to my room for a nightcap & a few rounds of La Scopa — an Italian card game not unlike Cassino.

I’m pretty certain I passed coz I woke up at 10:30 on top of the bed with all my clothes on.  I don’t know if I could imagine doing this for more than 10 weeks, & I’m happy about having little breaks in the schedule to look forward to.  It’s not easy to party EVERY night, but I’m certain that living in Berlin for the past 8 years have given me the strength to endure such rigors.  Hail Hail Rock and Roll.

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