right

awoke nine a.m - libi said we were like the thriller video but we still got shit together pretty sharp, signed visitor’s book, forgot tortilla, got in van, started drive back to france

personally i favour the back right corner of the van so i pretty much dozed off right away. late night last night. spanish party

awoke maybe one hour later to EDC light and engine death just short of services eighty k from zaragoza. spanish traffic police arrive shortly - none speak english but they’re vibe is like "you’re out of petrol or the batterry’s dead". we’re like "but the little orange light..." "ah naranja naranja, ci ci" - and tow us up. recovery truck arrives two hours later. driver doesn’t speak english but his vibe is like "you’re out of petrol or the battery’s dead". we’re like "but the little orange light..." and after a lot of confirmation and jump leads and shit, "ah naranja naranja, ci ci" whereupon the real confusion starts, some unbelievable scenes of loading the van up on the tow truck, saying panicked goodbye’s to jon who is going with the truck while we’re supposed to wait in the "cafe cafe" for fuck knows what to happen, jon thinks he’s never gonna see us again, anyway the guy tows it a short distance across the car park, unloads it off the ramp (rear bumper scraping loudly on the tarmac), gets an innocent bystander who speaks great english to translate (thankyou innocent bystander) that he is duty bound to get the truck in that blue building over there and lock it away til tuesday when everything opens up again after the easter holiday

now our ferry is booked from calais for monday. so this will not do. but the guy has a responsibility, forms to fill out, etcetera - i am reminded of the scheme for full employment - and he dutifully tows off the van, with all our gear in it , and locks it up til tuesday

so jon’s breakdown cover says they’re gonna hire us a car to drive to the border, another car to drive us up to calais, a room for the overnight en route, a taxi to the car hire by the way, sort us foot passenger tickets on the ferry, hire us a car at dover to get home, and either fly jon back to pick up the van when it’s done or ship it back to brighton

this is at about twelve (midday) by now. these services are a total shithole and we can’t wait for the taxi. so we wait for the taxi

lots of beautiful women come and go. some of us drink too much coffee. one guy on a school trip or something is wearing a black hoodie with the words "vagina lover" in silver on the back. this guy is about fifteen and surrounded, unbelievably, by girls. we cancel our three remaining shows over the phone. sorry to vincent, sorry to anyone who went to see us in poitiers to find us absent, sorry to the promoters of shows we were looking forward to playing. we all get chupa chups watches which do not work but in the confines of our fiercely guarded table space at these fucking services they seem like the most exciting thing in some time. we ask ourselves what the mack would do. we conclude that the mack would, as he promises, return. we also speculate that if we had just got over the border, perhaps french mechanics would not take easter thursday quite seriously enough to shut up shop all day and would have been able to fix the van

the taxi doesn’t show up. eventually, the car for the first leg falls through as well ("the depot’s closed by now"). thankyou at this stage to gemma from the AA who kept us informed of this and subsequent and numerous changes (for the worse and too numerous to detail) of luck

we call christian of picore because his is the only number we’ve got. he’s just about to fly to stockholm but has just enough time before boarding to call dani

dani makes the ultimate sacrifice (good form prohibits the telling of what he and his girlfriend were just about to do) and calls his brother pablo. pablo gets out of his girlfriend’s bed, puts his trousers on and runs to libi’s. they start cooking

dani arrives at libi’s shortly thereafter, picks up the van, and drives the eighty k to the services. it’s always good to see dani, this time (nine pm) it’s particularly good

one hour later we are all at libi and olia’s house eating tortilla, and jon is booking us some flights home for tomorrow (courtesy of the breakdown cover)

if our tour had to end prematurely, then thank goodness it was after zaragoza, not only because the show was totally hype and it was the seventh and final show with picore (who are wicked), but because we have such friends here to take care of us and and make us so welcome

thankyou christian, libi, olia, pablo and dani

-t.h (for and on behalf of the field and the legend that is jon wood)