The Whiskey Daredevils just returned from a road trip in Europe. Frontman Greg Miller fills us in on what happened.
I sit in the van seat, which has only one position, that being a military straight up back posture. Somehow I manage to drop blissfully into a deep slumber, maybe for the first time in three days. “Hey Greg! Greg! Want to hear about these chicks I met at the after hours last night?” Leo has awoken me for the eighth time in the last 48 hours. He is relaxed, rested, and worry free. I want to kill him.
“Yeah, this girl was going to get her bag and go with that one Swiss guy with the fucked-up mustache right? But he didn’t have any place to go with her, so I totally was going to do him a solid.”
“Well, what were you going to do?” I ask in a measured tone. “Let him into the bunk area and they would have sex next to me and the snoring guy with the scary hand?”
“No Dude! The van! The van! But then her friends grabbed her before she could go off with him.”
Glad I wasn’t sitting in a damp spot from some early morning Swiss coupling, I closed my eyes and tried to put a game plan together on Operation Regroup 2009. I am going to have to get to sleep somewhere, and there is no hotel rate I will not pay for a private room of my own. If Ravensburg has only a Ritz Carlton with the Presidential Suite, I will take out whatever savings necessary for a solid five hours of sleep. No price is too high. I am very jagged right now.
Miraculously a half-block from the Café Balthus is a charming little Gasthaus. I spot it while we were driving in, and the second we stop the van I leap into action. I wordlessly grab my bag, walk up the hill to the hotel, and get a room. The room is large with a soft double bed. The curtains on the open windows breathe in and out with the breeze from my private roof top garden. I check in at 5:02. I am fast asleep by 5:04.
