Somewhere in the neighborhood of 24 hours after setting out for LAX Monday evening, following a long flight to Brisbane (aided by sporadic alcohol-induced slumber), a three hour
Make no mistake about it, simply getting to this distant island nation is a feat, but it's nothing a long hot shower, a solid nine hours of sleep in a sprawling queen size bed of one's own, and a breakfast buffet fit for a king can't easily rectify for the seasoned nomad. As luck would have it, those very comforts – typically absent from my van-based life – lie right here at my fingertips. Good, cleaning living folks.
One more day of relaxation before the gigs start up with a vengeance, and while the road ahead looks pretty relentless, the seemingly endless blur of towns, early morning bus calls, hotels, flights, road food, and inevitable mishaps does have an odd sort of allure. For a while at least, and seven weeks sounds about right.