Last year we followed Finland’s Lamori as they toured across Eastern Europe and took us with them via the gift of an excellent tour diary. And you all enjoyed it so much we thought we’d give the lads a chance to stow you all away on their tour bus again as they head out to the highway once more…
Day 1
Budapest, August 30. It was not Sunday. It was Saturday. But nevertheless the day started to the tunes of Sunday Morning Coming Down by Johnny Cash. Behind us was a twelve hour trip. A ferry, two buses, a train and a plane had taken us from our beloved Aland Islands in the chilly Baltic Sea to the hotter than Hell Hungarian capital.
Like the stupid tourists we are, we headed out on a hike in the blistering heat. Without any water or protection from the sun, and wearing flip flops, we went on to climb a mountain, the name of which translates to The Devil. It didn’t take long before we started to feel dehydrated and nauseous. We could all ready see tomorrow’s headlines: “bodies of stupid Finnish tourist band found dead on mountain trail”. Somehow we made it back in one piece. The rest of the day we spent in our hotel room blasting the AC.
Later in the day we were joined by our dear friend and tour manager Kris from Rock Tour Agency. It was a joyful reunion since last year’s tour we did together (that you can read the full report of here). We packed our stuff in his van and drove off. A strange feeling came to us. Just as if last year’s tour had ended yesterday, and now we’re only continuing it.
We arrived at the S8 Underground Club, basically across the street from the Ferenc Puskás-stadium. Here we would be kicking off our eight days back-to-back Eastern Europe leg of the NEON BLOOD FIRE TOUR, named after our latest album.
The club is located in a big basement of one of the oldest houses in Budapest. Walking down the stairs to it was like stepping into a Swedish sauna (basically a Finnish sauna, but heated by a whimp). We were told that back in the war days basements like these were built by digging out underground rivers beneath the city. This resulted in huge amounts of moisture zipping through the concrete, making the air down there thick and damp. The 33 C / 91.4 F outside temperature wasn’t making things any better.
With us for the night were local support bands Buddha Pests, Crow Black Dream and Utolsó Hullám who all got the crowd going and with whom we had some great conversations back stage.
Hitting the stage we were already drenched in sweat. The big industrial fans on the stage were of little relief. But we all had a hell of a good time with the Budapest crowd, who welcomed us with their open arms. It feels great being out on the road again!
Day 2
Sibiu, September 1.
The few hours of shuteye we got after the show last night felt like mere seconds. At six forty five AM, an alarm clock blared louder and louder in our five-bed hotel room. “Turn off that God damn alarm!” some of us groaned in half-asleep frustration. Eventually, Emanuel, our drummer, dragged himself out of bed and approached Jens, our keyboardist, who was snoring like a pig with the alarm blaring right beside his head. Emanuel picked up the alarm clock and shoved it right into Jens’ ear. Still, no reaction.
Today would be the longest drive of the entire tour. We would have to cover over five hundred kilometres on rough roads in 34°C (93°F) heat – without AC. An hour into the journey we had to pull over. Kris, our driver and tour manager, started feeling uneasy in the stomach. Soon, we all began to feel off. Were we just imagining things? Or were those scrambled eggs at the hotel breakfast a little suspicious? Luckily Kris eventually started feeling better. And we could continue our nine hour drive towards Romania and Sibiu.
Arriving in Sibu late in the evening meant we had to go straight to Love Bar – tonight’s venue. We were all quite worn out from the long, hot journey. And to be honest, our expectations for the night were starting to get quite low. The club owner had just informed us that only one pre-order ticket had been sold. To make matters worse, there was a free music festival going on in the city. And it was a Sunday.
With the stage set and two hours until showtime, we headed to the hotel for a quick refresh. Still feeling somewhat sluggish and low on motivation, we made our way back to the venue. Now imagine the surprise on our faces. The place was getting full with people! A couple of beers later and any of our lingering drowsiness had vanished like a fart in the wind. We were ready to rock!
After the show, the crowd swarmed us for selfies and signed merch. What we expected to be just another “Sunday gig” became one more unforgettable night in Romania. Man it feels amazing to be back here again!
Day 3
Sântana de Mureș, September 2.
We woke up to the screams of kids and the roar of a chainsaw right outside our hotel window. It felt like we’d been dropped into a scene from Texas Chainsaw Massacre (the 1974 original). Six a.m. What the hell was going on? Then came the relentless pounding of hammers. Apparently, someone decided it was the perfect time for a backyard DIY project, waking up the entire neighbourhood in the process.
A few hours of sleep deprivation later, we were back in the van again. Thankfully, today’s drive was a short one. We pulled into a gas station for a quick breakfast stop. The moment we stepped out of the van, we had one of those “Wait, haven’t we been here before?” moments.
Sure enough, we had. This was the same middle-of-nowhere gas station we had visited on last year’s tour. Same flickering lights, same mystery meat hot dogs spinning on that roller grill. And wasn’t it one of those greasy abominations our drummer Emanuel had scarfed down on the way to the airport last time? Because by the time we hit the runway, he was puking his guts out.
We arrived just past noon at tonights venue – Republic Hub. This place was huge. Newly built. Top class stage area on the ground floor. Five star hotel rooms with private bathrooms and backstage on the floor above. This place was something else.
With us for tonight were local trash metal heroes Frontkill. They guys were really tearing the place apart with their energetic show. And sure enough, they kept the energy going on the floor during our show too, moshing away and bringing on our very first wall of death. Guys, we had so much fun with you, hope to see you again soon!
Day 4
Brașov, September 3.
Except for the infernal snoring from that one bandmate, the never ending barking opera of stray dogs outside our window, and yeah, those goddamn roosters that began crowing at four in the morning – it was an all peace and quiet night. Perfect for catching some well needed beauty sleep.
Today the mountains were calling us. Our destination: Braşov – a magnet for mountain bikers, hikers and adventurers alike. Nestled in the embrace of forested hills. At its heart, a picturesque old town with narrow cobblestone streets, baroque houses and a spacious plaza. Here lay the beautiful medieval gothic-style cathedral known as The Black Church. Above it all, perched high in the hills, the lit up Hollywood-esque Braşov sign.
The stage area at tonight’s venue, Pub Tamplarie, was barely bigger than a walk-in closet. But hey, if there’s one thing we picked up from last year’s tour, it’s that the smaller the dive, the rowdier the crowd. And rest assured, we were not wrong.
The place quickly turned into a pressure cooker of high voltage energy. And we were all in. By the end of the night, we were downing lines of some local firewater they called “chickichikitequila-shots” with the Romanian wild ones. Man, this country never disappoints.
Bucharest, September 5.
Copious amounts of coffee. Cold shower. Close shave. Couple of pieces of dried ginger. Licorice bubble gum. Sun glasses on. With the ghosts of yesterday’s sins looming above our heads, we prepared ourselves for yet another hot day in the tour van.
Today’s destination: Bucharest. Last year’s tour never made it to the sprawling Romanian capital. So it was about time we made a stop there.
Arriving in the afternoon, we hade some time to relax and do some freshening up at the hotel before heading over to the venue – Underworld Club. After the soundcheck we met up with Carla Morton, Romanian representative for our label WormHoleDeath. She took us out for dinner and gave us a quick tour of the city’s old town. So much to see, but so little time.
We rolled back to Underworld Club, just in time to catch our support act, Corina Sucarov and her band +SHE+. They were firing up the crowd, cranking out their gothic post-punk /dark wave. The energy was electric. The place was starting to feel like a furnace. Budapest had been hot, but this? This was next-level scorching.
I have no idea how any of us survived that show without passing out from heat exhaustion. We were dumping water over our heads just to stay upright, and when the water ran out, we switched to beer. By the last couple songs, the keyboard gave out, totally drenched in Jens’ sweat. By the end, we looked like we’d just crawled out of a river – and so did the amazing crowd who had been rocking out like crazy with us. Again, Romania – we love you!
Day 7
Obsjtina Tjuprene, September 6.
It was way too early in the morning. Our clothes, still soaked from last night’s sweat-fest, were spread out to dry all over the van. It was reeking of beer and various body odours in there. We were too dead tired to give a damn.
The five kilometer long line of trucks told us we were getting close to the Bulgarian border. We were leaving Romania for a day. Tonight we would be headlining the boutique metal festival Chuprene Open Air, together with Serbian trash metal girl trio Jenner.
On our way there, we drove through rural villages where horses roamed free on the streets, passed massive abandoned industrial complexes and got a glimpse of the stunning Borovitza rock formations.
Finally arriving some eight hours later, we checked into our provided accommodation. Tucked in a valley, the view from there was unreal. So peaceful. And the cool mountain air was such a huge relief after the oven we had played in yesterday.
As the sun dipped behind the mountains, we made our way to the festival grounds. We decided to have just a few pre-show beers while checking out the other bands. But thanks to some random delays, the schedule was pushed back a few hours. With more time to kill, the empty beer cans were quickly starting to pile up backstage.
As we finally hit the stage, we went so hard that the whole thing started shaking. Marcus’s power cord kept popping out of his guitar pedal board. “Stop jumping around so much guys!” Jens was shouting, all while wrestling with the keyboard to keep it from flying off the stand. But no one was listening. We were all too busy rocking out – and so was the crowd.
Day 8
Timisoara, September 7.
The morning sun shone its rays down the valley, lighting it up in a thousand shades of red. It was a beautiful scene. But we were too tired, and in too much of a hurry, to fully appreciate it.
Last night had dragged on later than expected. Now we had an early wake-up call. Nine hours on the road awaited us. Our destination: Timişoara – the last stop on the tour.
But before heading back into Romania, we swung by the festival grounds for one last taste of some traditional home-cooked Bulgarian delicacies. The crew at Chuprene Open Air had really treated us like royalty. Hospitality, food, drinks, everything. Completely stuffed, we said our goodbyes and were waved off by some of the best people we had met on the tour. It felt like such an honour to have played the festival. We drove off with big smiles on our faces, totally clueless about the nightmare that was awaiting us at the border.
An hour had now passed since we joined the endless line of cars snaking toward the border. We still couldn’t even see the checkpoint yet. The heat was unbearable. An old rusty sign at a gas station we stopped by earlier had flashed 34°C (93.2°F). The ice cold water bottles we had bought there, to tuck under our shirts to keep us cool, were all lukewarm by now. With no AC in the van, we kept windows and doors open, trying to catch even the slightest breeze. But that also meant we were inhaling the exhaust fumes from all the trucks idling next to us. Frustration was boiling over – horns were blaring, drivers were pacing up and down the line, all pissed off and trying to figure out why the hell it was taking so long.
After what felt like a lifetime, we finally crossed back into Romania. We were hours behind schedule. Any hope of getting rest or freshening up before the show had pretty much gone out the window. That’s when we hit another line of cars and trucks. Something was blocking the road far up ahead. We were going nowhere, fast.
We pulled into the venue, M2, drenched in sweat and exhaustion, some two hours before showtime. There was no time to bitch about it. We had a show to put on. We unloaded our gear. Set everything up. Cranked out a quick soundcheck. Bolted out to grab something to eat. Barely made it back in time. Washed up in the toilet sink. Changed out of the dirty, sweaty van clothes into dirty, sweaty stage clothes. Knocked back a couple beers. Then it was time – our last show on the tour.
The Timişoara crowd was just as wild as we remembered them from the previous tour. But tonight there’d be no afterparty with the crazies. No getting hammered, no stories of excess. We had to pack it up. Shove everything back into the van and hightail it to the hotel. In four hours, at five am, we had to be on the road to Budapest, three hundred kilometers away, for a flight back home.
We were just about done loading the van when this deafening crash echoed through the place. We all froze for half a second before bolting inside. There was Emanuel, sprawled out at the bottom of the stairs, the last pieces of gear scattered around him. He had missed a step and tumbled down the whole flight of stairs. His ankle looked all messed up. “ICE! NOW!” we shouted at the bartender.
Luckily, no bones were broken. Even the gear was still intact. We stuffed him full of painkillers, slapped a bag of ice on that mangled foot and hoped he would make it through the flight home without totally losing it. Man, we surely know how to end a tour with a bang.
Epilogue
Yet another tour. Yet more new experiences and wisdoms learned. We were way more prepared this time. But as last time, you can never underestimate the importance of expecting the unexpected. Nothing seldom goes as planned when you are out on the road. Being able to adapt quickly to new circumstances is crucial. And you should always keep an open mind.
From the bottom of our hearts we want to thank all the amazing people who came to our shows. We want to thank all the venues and their crews who helped us deliver the best possible performance each night. And we want to thank all the fellow bands we got to share the stage with. A big special thanks goes to our dear friend and tour manager Kris, of Rock Tour Agency – you are amazing man, we love you!
LAMORI out.
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