Italy has really been good to Ghost to Falco. As I think I’ve mentioned before, this is my first time in this country, outside of an airport anyway, and the hospitality is stunning. Milano was wonderful, great first show here and then Eric and I took the train over to Ferrara, which is about 30 minutes north east of Bologna. The city itself keeps about fifty thousand people and is muted well by the looming eastern block style grey skyline. We got into town around three in the afternoon, packed tight with all our bags and in good spirits residual from fashionable Milano. It’s as though each cobblestone in Milano is a runway; the city oozes aesthetic class and superficiality. Beautiful, tight bodied superficiality….
Anyway, our pickup in Ferrara was dodgy at best and we had little to no information on who was gonna get us or where we would go. Half past four Stephano, our then host and purported touring bassist arrived; looking frazzled and like the cat in the bag was getting feisty. So he tells us he’s no longer going with us, but that he’s arranged another bassist to drive us and learn our set. Eric and I are pretty much like, “whatever” and so we go to his studio on the edge of town. Soon Samuela shows up. He’s very polite, super humble and, a little into our first practice, scared shitless that we are not the folky electro project he was told we were. But like any perceptive musician, within an hour or so he was basically bounding off amps all Van Halen and scissor kicking. Well pretty much…
One day of practice and then we headed south to San Bennedetto Del Tronto, a seaside laze on the Adriatic Sea and not short on wealthy pensioners. We meet our host, Paolo, who is maybe forty and definitely holding baller status in this town. All I’m saying about this gig was that it was pretty much an Indie Rock love story: show up to the gig, go off and have a three course authentic Italian meal, drink two bottles of wine and get macked on by the waite staff, then return to the venue and have the place packed. THEN, after the gig and everybody is buying up the merch, have the owner come up to you, post-massive amazing dinner-gratis- and him telling you we’ve exceeded his expectations immensely and we deserve an extra hundred and fifty euros:::::::::::
Seriously…
We had a great evening of course and retired to our Pension just a few minutes walk to the beach. I got lost, as I like to do but luckily I don’t sleep in so I had two plus hours to find my way while the rest of the band slept.
Gas is ridiculous here and the tolls for the highway are outrageous; like twenty euros for about one hundred and fifty miles. So we came back up to Ferrara last night for a spontaneous gig at a club called Zuni, which was also very nice and served us excellent food and wine. It was a sparse turnout though, as the show was set up just a few days before. So we are in Ferrara another day today and it is Thanksgiving. You are all asleep, hopefully you trained your stomachs. There are friends and family I miss today and wish I could be with. All good things though, what an adventure!
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