the jetlag express

The journey to Japan goes without a hitch.
Stuffy and I surprise the steward by requesting warm sake with our meals. We're trying to be traditional.
Customs doesn't take long to get through and within moments we're all outside and bathed in the clammy heat I will always associate with Tokyo. Helpful translators and qhite gloved drivers abound.
The large Tokyo Prince hotel is reached after a good hour or so of Tokyo traffic.
The record company are taking us for dinner. This is always a good thing as going out in Japan is otherwise an extremely expensive habit.
We eat well, and the call of bars is too loud for any of us to ignore. Also, it's Edgar (Charlotte's boyfriend) and John (bass)'s first time in japan, so it wouldn't be fair to deny them the traditional getting out of your face.
After an initial drink in a bar that could have been anywhere we end up in a little place called The Cavern watching an all Japanese beatles cover band. They're excellent and amusing. White Russians for all.
When STuffy wakes up he has no recollection of how he got to bed. John's a very unwell looking boy, and I'm still a bit pissed. Thankfully the drive to Fujirock festival is a good three hours, so we've time to sleep more in the bus.
Some gorgeous scenery later we're at the sprawling hotel where all the bands stay for the festival. I leave the guitar tech vomitting in our room and head out for a wander with Edgar whilst Charlotte does press. We don't get to see much, but it is ace. Then we get absolutely soaked through as the heavens open on us. I spend the next twenty minutes in the dressing room trying to scrape hair product out of my stinging eyes.
The show goes off with only a couple of hitches. Some funny power they have over there, and some of our equipment gets just as confused as we are now the jetlag is settling in nicely. The audience screams away at us and we jump about like madlings. Ace.
OUtside our dressing room we bump into and briefly chat with Dave Grohl. He's flippin lovely and, rather upsettingly, looks younger than all of us. I surprise myself by not being the slightest bit star-struck, which I always expected if I ever met him. Maybe the fact that I still have ego-mania running through my veins having just come off stage that it cancells it out. John, however, isn't so lucky and has to visibly hold onto the wall to steady himself after shaking Dave's hand. Hah hah! Very cute.
We watch Coldplay from the side of stage, who are very pleasant, if a bit dull. Then see Foo Fighters from the stage to, who are very entertaining and Dave does a bit of drumming, which makes my night, having never seen him behind the tubs with the mighty Nirvana live.
The rest of the evening is a bit of a blur.
Meet J Mascis and Murph of Dinosaur Jr- very cool indeed!
Get trollied with Ricky from The Kaiser Chiefs, who's very nice and very red faced. Charlotte throws him from his chair and then hurls one of his shoes across the bar in a fit of boysterousness that receives a cheer from all in the bar.
...and suddenly, it's time to get on the bus and go back to Tokyo for an eleven hour flight! No sleep, no shower... rock and roll!...
And now I'm back home, waves of hot sweaty jetlag washing over me every twenty minutes. Confusion and duty-free cigarettes.
Man, I love Japan. It's always such an insane whirlwind time. Here's hoping next year I get to do it all over again.