So we're off again. I'm starting to feel like a real musician, again: spending more time in airports than at home but it's not the same without Mrs. F and the Fingernails. We'll see each other in England in late July.
Getting through security was typical: only four machines staffed out of a possible eight this morning, resulting in a fifteen-minute wait just to be frisked by a bored minimum-wager. God knows what they do when there's a lot of traffic. The loos are a bit cleaner than they were when I left for Santiago a few weeks ago but you never quite get a away from the feeling that any service provided is done grudgingly at best.
Tonight is the famous, Jack Lang-initiated Fête de la Musique, an impro jamboree to celebrate the first day of summer. Bands set themselves up on street corners, solo artists stand in shop doorways etc etc. Anyone can go into the street and make music. It's a nice idea and there are some good acts, but most is just pure shite. Getting out of the country this morning is like grabbing the landing bars of the last helicopter out of Saigon.
Better sign off before my free wi-fi runs out. More soon from Germanland.