Rennes, France 28 June 2013
My room faces the backsides of three other buildings, sort of a shaft with daylight coming in. Very quiet. The night before I'd managed to pull the blackout curtains shut in a way that didn't allow a sliver of that daylight through, my thermostat set at 20c. The room is cool, dark and silent as a tomb. I woke up, switched the light on to see what time it was, expecting it to be 6 or 7 in the morning. It was nearly 11:30. I'd been asleep for nine and a half hours. I don't know that I'd ever slept that long in my life and don't often get that much sleep in two nights combined. Got a couple cups of coffee in me, a shower and it was time to go.
Our trusty team of drivers and fleet of Range Rovers negotiated the mad midday Paris traffic and delivered us to Le Bourget airport. An hour later we landed in Rennes. It was our first time here, but won't be the last. Friday's show may well have been one of the best of the tour or any other. A stand up gig with seating around the perimeter, you couldn't have shoehorned another person in the place. The floor was absolutely shoulder to shoulder and every single seat up to the rafters filled. We came on to tumultuous cheering and applause that never flagged throughout the evening. We responded with a steaming gig, fantastic playing all around... a man in every corner and then some. Here's to Rennes.
A runner and back to Paris. Several weeks ago I was given a magnum of Duvel beer from Belgium that I'd put away for safe keeping and tonight seemed like the right time to break it out. I'd asked that it be put on the plane and thoroughly iced down for the flight. Liz served up the golden, slightly cloudy brew as soon as we were seated. Ice cold and massively delicious that Duvel was the perfect foil to a filet mignon served for dinner. We'd scarcely finished eating when the Legacy touched down.
Things don't get much better than being driven through Paris at 1 o'clock in the morning. The incredible good fortune of all this is never lost on any of us.