We hit the road out of Halifax at the crack of noon.  A  clear day, much better for traveling than the blizzard and fog that we had on our way over.  Ask any touring band in Canada and they’ll tell you that they’re part time rocker - full time trucker.  Another thing that seems to follow bands on the road is the common cold.  Maybe it’s all the late nights, the shitty food, or the close quarters and sharing microphones, but  if one person gets sick, everyone will eventually.   Anders and Kyle seem to be the worst off today so I take the wheel of our old Ford van.  The van looks like something exploded inside.  There’s a half empty jar of peanut butter,  countless coffee cups, ketchup packages,  papers (obviously not too important!), pillows and various crap, we fit in the cab in tight cubbies surrounded in trash.  First stop is Dartmoth Harbor where we see a good view of the water and do a short video blog.  We hop back in the van and start our 12 hour drive to Trois Rivier, where we play with Mobile the next night.  It’s great meeting other bands on the road you get along with.  The guys in Mobile are very friendly and helpful, the kind of guys you want to stay up with after a show and have a “few” beers with.  They are also excellent musicians.  At the end of every show they bring us on stage to do a cover of the Stone’s “You Can’t Get What You Want”, which i always get the words wrong to!  The drive is uneventful, we stop at truck stops  to fuel up our vehicle and re-caffeinate our systems for the many hours ahead. We roll into Trois Rivier late at night.  It appears our GPS has let us down; the address for our hotel we plug in takes us to the outskirts of town, we regroup in a parking lot by some table tennis hall.  We search around the deserted town (after much swearing and groaning) and finally find our resting place for the next two nights.  After we check in the old guy behind the desk informs me in broken English that there is a gay bar thats still open across the street.  I thank him for the offer, but decline.  Anders and I find a restaurant  still open near said bar and have a quick bite.  In every town there is always a late night greasy spot serving food right next to the bars, a saving grace for many drunks, me included!  This one is very French, I feel like an idiot knowing so little of the language, but manage to get a poutine, a true culinary marvel!  It’s after 3 am when we get back to our rooms, I fall asleep right away and don’t wake up till 3 p.m. the next afternoon. Dave 

This entry was posted on Monday, March 9th, 2009 at 6:01 pm by INWARD EYE.