These are the true tales of the rail and the wing, seen from the vantage point of train stations, dressing rooms, airports and the not-so-glamorous back of a cab. Buckle up in the jump seat for this caffeine-fueled 15-day tour of Italy, Austria, Denmark, Germany, Netherlands, France, England and Ireland. Don’t forget your passport.
April 19: Cantu To San Constanzo
In the old days—and by that I mean the ’90s—the band and I toured Europe by bus primarily. We would play a show, jump on the bus afterward and wake up in a new city. To keep expenses down, a day room at a hotel would be booked for the arrival so that the band, crew and everyone on the bus could grab a shower and maybe put our feet up for the afternoon. The band often had press interviews during the day of the show, sometimes lasting many hours on end. After a succession of coffees, beers and well-meaning interrogation, I was typically frazzled—all of this before the show. Such a crazy schedule. It meant that our time to actually explore all of these incredible destinations was limited.
An hour and half to take in Rome before soundcheck, barely enough time to chug a beer in Edinburgh … sort of regretful. Our field of vision was narrowed, cropped in such a way that gave us a strange POV. Alleyways, dressing rooms, hotel lobbies, petrol stations, load-in doors. Buses were known to park off in the boonies, where the bus could idle and the driver could catch up on rest during the day. This might be a parking lot off the Autobahn, a forest in Sweden, you never knew where.
In the 2000s, I began to tour as a solo artist: just me, my road manager, Spike, maybe a sideman or two, and it was by car, air and sometimes by train. I began to see much more of Europe, a more detailed version, and I no longer felt the claustrophobic walls of the bus closing in. Most people love the bus. I don’t miss it. That said, I’m uneasy about the highway in general. Europeans drive way too fast for my nerves. My favorite mode of European travel is the train. Some are quite dignified, with comfortable seats, a dining car, a place to plug your phone in. Wi-Fi is iffy, but I find the train is conducive to reading, writing and just looking out the window.
There are still a lot of older regional trains on the line like the one out of Cantu to Como we’re on this morning. Its interior is a cool sky blue, each seat in a brighter blue vinyl. Blue light bounces off the cabin walls like an aquarium. There’s something about the topography of Italy, even the sunlight itself, that reminds of California’s Central Valley. The softly rolling hills a few miles out of Milan are like those you see in California. I feel at home in Italy. The buildings are different, the language barrier is there, but the soil itself and the temperament is welcoming.
This morning has been a hectic one. A late-arriving train from Cantu has thrown our schedule off kilter, but some quick thinking and a lot of running from one platform to the next seems to have put us back on track for today’s arrival in San Constanzo. Still time for a nap, but I’ve had two espressos already so that might be tough. The train rolls on. Fourth night away from home, from family, and I’m counting the days as I always do.
