CLOSING NIGHT!
Episode 5: Milan - Barcelona - Tours
Fifth and final episode in the 9000Miles-project, starting off with revulsion and anger in Milan, followed by a really, really long trip across the Alps, the French coastline and the Pyrenees to finally arrive in Barcelona. Seaside painting, late siesta’s, extended dj-sets, early beers and long hangovers. Thanks to Erik and Dilayla from Oviso and Manolo - and the French girls who shared a night and a block of Moroccan’s finest with us. We headed north and left Spain for a visit to Tours, France and a gig with the homies Dees Chan & M.I.C.K. at Black Or White. We want to thank everybody who came out at the last minute and joined us for what turned out to be a memorable Monday night party. To be concluded.
Barcelona Pictures
Pictures by © Jan Opdekamp
Nearing The Shores Of Ithaca
Our odyssey draws to an end - after Italy came a long, hot and exhausting drive to the beautiful city of Barcelona. Where we showed up too late to check into a campsite and had to spend our first night scattered over the front & back seats of our van and a glue-sniffer-free strip of beach. Sleep came hard that night - it’s not easy to count sheep with a transmission stick poking you in the back while curious vagabonds stick their nose up to your improvised bedroom window looking for loose change & affection. But we pulled through - somehow, someway we made it through that dark patch without losing any morale or vital organs.
After about three hours of shaky sleep we roused our tired minds & limbs and trucked back to the city centre for a refill of spraycans at the local MTN-bar. Guys, thanks for being there and letting us crank some juice back into our starving laptops, cellphones and camera batteries. Our painters headed off to Plaza Forum to break in their new cans - check the pictures - while our musicians ventured into town carrying nothing but a bag of cd’s- running on reserve optimism and looking for luck. Which was rewarded by Erik and Dilayla - possible the coolest couple in Barcelona - who let us chill and play a dj-set at their bar: Manolo, on one of the murkier sidestreets of La Rambla. Thanks for the spontaneous support, thanks for the awesome burgers at Oviso and an ambiguous thanks for the free liquor that left me physically incapacitated and mentally debilitated for the better part of the next day. Mixing Coronita’s with Jägerbombs with Black Russians with rum with whiskey with a lot of tiny, tiny beers will leave you with a big, giant hangover - in addition to making you want to fraternize with every pickpocket on La Rambla. How I made it back to that campsite I don’t know, but given the percentage of alcohol circulating in my bloodstream it’s either a bloody miracle or an achievement that merits this year’s award for Most Unlikely Mix Of Dumb Luck & Persistence.
Day after was nothing but a coma - spiked with nuclear headaches and a heavily protesting stomach. My dive into the sea was like a scene from a bad zombie movie played in reverse. At this point in our tour, going as deep as I did on that faithful night in downtown BCN will leave a bigger drawback than usually - especially if you have no more than three hours to sleep off your hangover and nothing but a dust-caked, sweat-stained mattress to do it on. Righteous retribution, as some would call it.
Yesterday morning, we brushed the dirt of our shoulders and rolled back into our van for a 10-hour drive to Tours, France which is where we are now - visiting our friend Dees Chan who was kind enough to offer 9 sweaty, grumpy Belgians every last inch of his appartment on the Rue Verte.Thanks mon frere, you don’t know what your hospitality means to the members of this creative pilgrimage. Tonight will bring a gig at a bar here - while our painters sneak out in the dark of the night to look for walls, be they legal or be they not. We’re almost home and we will not falter with the finish line in sight. These are the last days and I will squeeze every last second out of it before our bus turns onto the streets of Ghent in a few days.
See you then.
Fruity Di Mare
These last days have been fairly quiet. After leaving abandoned Zagreb we shot off to the Italian coast for a dip into the Mediterranean - to wash off the sweat and accumulated exhaustion that comes with three weeks on the road. Barbieri Beach - said the sign. We parked our van and started off on a descent down a steep and rocky incline that led down to an equally rocky coastline. Revulsion ensued as half our party took the scenic route down, only to be confronted with the saggy, flabby bronzed horror of Barbieri Naturista Beach - sweaty men with fading tanlines and dangling dongs, trendily trimmed scrotal sacks swaying gently in the summer breeze.
Turn those fitted hats down and keep your eyes on the ground - don’t look them directly in the eye so as to not incite them. What the hell is up with all these empty condom wrappers? Why are there around 30 guys sitting under that pier - leering at us with small, groping eyes behind shiny pink sunglasses? Is that one guy touching his - OH GOD KEEP MOVING AND WHATEVER YOU DO, DON’T LOOK BACK!
Yes. We trudged on along the narrow walkways - making sure to let the nudies pass first (not out of a sense of courtesy, you don’t want to share a 30cm mountain path with a 40-year old geezer who’s wearing nothing but purple slippers, a thick layer of tanning oil and a pair of metal-rimmed Ray-Bans). But when we did make it to a strip of pervless beach, it was all worth it. Never before have I felt so cleansed by a dive into a polluted sea - splashing off the stink of three weeks of tourlife and the hopeful glares of Backdoor Barbieri Beach. We charged up, found a campsite and slept off the day.
Right now, we’re steering our van over to the beautiful city of Milan where we will get a re-up of spraycans from our local MTN-friends and hopefully a hookup with some musicians. Which would be especially sweet since we haven’t seen a pair of speakers we could plug into since Vienna and the leather padding on my headphones is eroding away into my skull. Wish us luck, it’s going to be a long, hot day.
Post Scriptum: apparently we didn’t have any local MTN-friends - the shop where we were supposed to pick up our cans was closed for the annual holidays. Thanks guys, for letting us drive that big-ass van all the way through a city full of parking guards and fashion victims only to find out that you didn’t bother to let us know that you wouldn’t be there. That’s one town we won’t be coming back to.
Borne From Chaos Into Silence
After spending 3 nights trapped on an inner city island with about 499,991 drunkards and half of Holland, this city seems like a ghost town. We hit Zagreb on Saturday night hoping for parties, walls and jamsessions. Think again, this town is deader than roadkill. Thank God for Mirza, Lunar and Zero - straight from far-off Japan on his own tour called 35,000Miles - who took us into town for a painting session. We hope to see Zero again in a few weeks since his tour goes counter-clockwise, bringing him to our hometown of Ghent by the end of the month. It would appear that yes - it is in fact a small world after all.
Apart from painting that wall for as long as the smoldering sun would allow (until 2PM), nothing much else has transpired except for the smoking of at least 13 packs of Eastern European cigarettes and a shower every twenty minutes to wash off the sweat and heat. With the expection of myself and Nadia, all of us are wearing red t-shirt tanlines - which will inevitably turn to yellow, leathery patches of crawled-up skin that will start to peel off by the time we get to Milan tomorrow. Yuck.
Upsides: rainforest showers with taps instead of those cursed timer-buttons, spider-free beds with non-humid sheets, significantly less drunken idiots and no sound limitation at 30db (@HudMo, we felt your pain).
Downsides: like dude, where is everybody?
Pictures by © Jan Opdekamp
From Venezuela, with <3
Early morning at Sziget Festival - we’re packing up and getting ready to steer our bus in the direction of Zagreb. These last days have been a weird stop in our travelling trajectory: after spending our nights mainly on couches located in the houses of wonderful strangers and new friends, we found ourselves parked on a campsite on the Donau riverbankds, in the middle of artist caravans with vegan catering trucks and pirate-flag waving madmen, howling at the moon and screaming off their Vodka-fueled frenzies. Sziget is weird if you’re used to festivals with boundaries. Because here, you can park your tent right next to the main stage and there is not a single soul who will tell you to move. Then at the same time, the security staff looks like muscle for a local crime syndicate that traffics in luxury cars and high-class ‘brides’.
The first night comprised a short run-through of the festival grounds - including the last four songs of a brilliant Prince - and a first talk with Zoltan at the KuZo stage where our boys would be painting and playing a liveset. Painting with the mighty Topo and his crew, mad noise and latin passion with Pablo and his latex-clad tigers and a musical performance that was nothing short of spectacular. Acapella’s on helium balloons, spontaneous trumpet features that make your skin crawl and more love than one man can hope to receive and return in one night. I barely saw three acts - being bogged down at the KuZo and chilling with the people there - but once again, this stop was another highlight to frame and remember for a long time to come.
Right now we’re straightening out our spines, cracking our limbs and shaking the dust & ache from our tired heads. We have to be in Zagreb in less than 12hrs (to play a set) and I think I had about 4h27m of sleep last night. Send us your love & support, we are in need.
Onward we journey, into the beautiful abyss…
Episode 3: Prague - Vienna - Budapest
Video report of the next stage in our tour: travelling from Prague to Vienna where we met up with ROA and the coolest people in the city (Camp Hustle / Crunchtime), especially Stereotyp who showed a van full of complete strangers a brand of hospitality like you’ve never experienced it before.
We want to thank Ridah, Stefan, Matthias, Frank and all the other people who chilled with us in the basement of creation. Right now we’re in Budapest at the Sziget festival, chilling out backstage @ Kuzo. Already a major shoutout to Zoltan and Mark for giving us the opportunity to play at their festival.
Stay tuned.
Highway To The Danger Zone
Vienna, 01h48PM - en route back to yesterday’s campsite to pick up a pair of sunglasses and a power chord that got lost in the chaos of packing up 9 sets of baggage and creative gear. Surprisingly, this is the first trip in its kind, which is way better than expected - a rating that rings true for all of these last 12 days. Par for the course would have been at least two lost laptops, one fucked camera and a bus with more dents than a golf ball. Not to mention physical and psychological damage sustained from living out of a musty van and sharing your last shred of personal space with three dudes and video tripod.
These past days have been amazing. We started off with a few cities that were semi-mapped out and where we had managed to establish on-site liasons that could help us out when it came to sleeping spots and places to play and paint. However, that course ran out when we left Prague with not a couch to crash on nor a phone number to dial. Vienna would be the first city where we would have to trust our instincts and social skills. Turned out that wouldn’t take too long: after an evening and night of campsite re-energizing - next to a British family with an RV bigger than most of our houses - half of our party bumps into one of Belgium’s finest streetartists (ROA) by accident while the other half finds themselves recording vocals with the campsite groundskeeper who is also a gym teacher in the off-season.
As we write this, our host for the last two nights - Stefan aka Stereotyp - is probably waking up to the thank-you note we left next to the mural we painted together with him and one of his friends on one of his basement walls during the past two nights. Stefan, Frank, Matthias and everybody else from Camp Hustle, if you’re reading this: never before have we been taken in so unconditionally and openheartedly as with you guys. Really. You are in a class by yourselves - all the way up there. Matter of fact: somebody tell Frank because he doesn’t have a phone, let alone a Tumblr-page. Old School, New Shit. I tip my hat to all of you gentlemen. And yes, we will see you in September and/or October in Amsterdam, Vienna or Gent.
On another note: it seems like the clouds over Europe are finally empty. We’re now driving towards Hungary with fleetings clouds evaporating over our heads as we ride. No need to hope: I have every bit of confidence that the sun is going to last at least until we get back home - a feeling that is confirmed by the text message that just came in on my cellphone: downtown Budapest is up to a sizzling 37°.
PS: turns out we didn’t actually forget those sunglasses, we just forgot that we had already put them in the back of the van. Well excuse us. Every single one of us has a standard 4-bag equipment slung around their shoulders at any given time. If you ask me, it’s a miracle there’s still 9 of us.
PPS: This was posted in a gas station somewhere between Vienna and Budapest where we hope to arrive within the next two hours. We hope we can find a wi-fi spot somewhere so we can keep you up-to-date on what happens when we get to Sziget.
Vienna - Vidi - Vici
We can be short about Vienna: this place is so full of win it’s hard to keep track of everything. It did not look like that at first: we checked into a campsite about 35km outside the city centre with not so much as a local bar down the road to keep us entertained. The idea behind this was to take a little break - a pause for breath in this whirlwind of human experience that has kept us running on high spirits and nicotine for slightly over a week.
Guess again: just when you started to think that maybe nothing was going to happen today, the campsite custodian drops by to invite you to his on-site sound studio while the rest of the group accidentally runs into ROA - currently the best thing in Belgian streetart worldwide - in downtown Vienna, right after establishing a hook-up with some nice people from Vice Magazine. Get invited to a basement studio/clubhouse/creative space that is inhabited by Vienna’s finest - Paint a mural on this entire wall? Sure why not? Let’s do it right now, right? What are we waiting for? For sure yes, have your friends bring in all their audio gear and let’s have a little jam session while we’re at it. Sleep where you drop, beers are in the shower. Help yourself to all this Win, there’s no way I can finish it all by myself.
Thanks to Stereo, Matthias and the rest of the Camp Hustle crew, you guys raised the bar for anyone looking to invite us over to their house.
Pictures by ©Jan Opdekamp
Got you all in Czech
Day seven: sitting outside a student dormitory somewhere on the outskirts of Prague enjoying free wi-fi, cheap breakfast and a lot of sunshine. Around us, locals are downing 33cls of Pilzner and what looks like sausages soaked in cheese. We’re sticking to coffee & cigarettes - yesterday was pretty heavy on the ol’ bones and brains. Nothing drains your energy like being dragged out of a toilet while you’re taking a dump by a raving madman on steroids and speedballs - kicking the door and yelling at you to “get out no come again “. Yes, yesterday could have ended very differently. Ask the soundman for a cable - start looking for him 15 minutes later to find him at the bar having a beer. Ask him about the speakers that are not giving any sound - have him tell you “you do show without speaker”. DJ-tables on a 45° slant. Oh yes, this could have been very different indeed. Instead, it ended with the best show we had so far, getting in touch with some musicians who we’re jamming with this afternoon, making new friends from Holland, Ireland, Italy, Norway and of course the beatiful city of Prague. Good times, good times.
We want to thank Nikola and Lucia from Eastpak, Lucia (and Dixie) from Chapeau Rouge and the crowd for giving us all the energy we needed to Tear the Roof off the Sucka. Let’s wrap this up - i need to hit the shower (oh sweet hot water) before we’re off to the lab. In the meanwhile, the student restaurant is getting a make-over by Squid, Locatelli and Stanislas - they’re lugging around spraycans, buckets of latex and ladders as we speak.
Yes. We’re doing it.
Pictures by © Jan Opdekamp
Yesterday, I saw a Squid tag a Brontosaurus.
Day four of our tour through Europe and it’s been nothing short of adventure so far. We left Gent on the 29th for a visit to Area51 skatepark in Eindhoven, the first stop in a journey that will take some of us further and longer away from home than they have ever been. We want to thank Laura, Simon and everybody else at the park for their support in making this happen. You guys were the first to welcome us to your town and we hope to repay the favour again when we come home. Thanks for your hospitality and your giant double-barreled shots of tequila, I was passed out until the bus stopped at the appartment in Berlin.
The apartment at Gruntaler 7 - home of Thomas & Oona - is now littered with laptops, empty packs of cigarettes, a few dozen crushed Red Bull cans, sleeping bags, spraycans, headphones and more camera’s than we can hold at the same time. If anything, this adventure into Europe’s underground will be well-documented every step of the way. Day one in Berlin had half of us dozing off the 8 hour drive from Eindhoven as the other half ventured out into the world to marvel at how cool Germany actually is. We regrouped around 8PM for a trip to Cassiopeia, where we were to play as a last-minute addition to the line-up. Thanks to Bob for inviting us to his club (again) and thanks to the crowd for giving us all the energy we needed.
So what else is new? Oh wait - everything is. Who needs a hotel and hot running water when you can hop a fence and break into an abandoned theme park somewhere around the southeast edge of Berlin’s city limits, surrounded by rainy trees and rusty broken-down rides while toeing a corroding railtrack in the middle of a greenish swamp. Right?
I need to wrap this up - we’re supposed to have a jam at the F-bar down the street tonight so a little preparation and 30m of shuteye might not be a bad idea. Stay tuned for more shirt-soaking adventures - coming soon.
9000 Miles - Episode 1: Ghent - Eindhoven - Berlin from 9000 Miles on Vimeo.
Pictures by © Jan Opdekamp
