Roma > Rotterdam
Trip Start Jun 15, 2007
25Trip End Sep 05, 2007
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(Roma, Monday, July 2, 2007)-It's a hot and sunny July Monday morning in Roma when we say goodbye to Antoniello and get ready to board our planes. Mark is flying to Eindhoven to make a gig that night, and for some reason I'm on a plane to Rotterdam where I'll have to catch a bus to the train station and then make the one-hour ride to Amsterdam Centraal.
It's cold and raining when I get off the plane and wait for the bus, and still cold and rainy when I arrive in Amsterdam. I'd given my keys to the apartment to the cats from New Orleans so they could stay in our pad when I was in Italy, and they've left them in the mailbox-which I can't open because Dorothy had the other set of keys and she'd taken them back to New York with her when she fled.
I have to do a lot of waiting around in the rain and finally end up wheeling my luggage over to my pal Ted Jackson's place in the Pijp. He's agreed to put me up for the night, and while I'm waiting to hook up with Ted I stop by to check in at the 420 Café and walk in on my dear friend Walter "Wolfman" Washington and his wife Barbara, who are taking a little vacation in Amsterdam before joining his band, the Roadmasters, in Italy later in July for a tour. We enjoy quite a few laughs over a couple of smokes and they catch me up on the news from New Orleans.
By the time I get to Ted's and turn in early I can feel a bad case of the flu starting to descend upon me. It's still cold and wet the next morning, and it stays that way all week-more like November than July. I'm out and around in the weather all day, catching up with my peoples at our various stops, and I finally chase down a set of keys to the pad and gain access to my apartment at last, shivering with cold and exhaustion as I jump in the bed for a long night's sleep.
I'm trying to act normal the next day-the 4th of July!-as I make my rounds and get ready for the radio show and concert with Wolfman scheduled for the 420 Café that evening, but the flu is starting to move into my system full force and I feel worse by the minute. But the show must go on, as we say, and I tough it out as long as I can before bolting out the door and heading home to my lonely sickbed, where I remain for the next two days with the worst case of intestinal disruption and ceaseless distress that I've ever suffered through.
August 23, 2007