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RUSSIA 30 Aug -- Just crossed the Russian border. It was much easier than I thought it would be. No problems at all! Unbelievable! What a relief. That was a major hurdle. I think at the moment we are about 150 km from St. Petersburg. The weather hasn't gotten any better. Still rainy, overcast and just plain depressing. This road we are on has to be one of the most featureless expanses I have ever travelled. Anyway, hopefully all our travels here go as smoothly as the border crossing. We're not scheduled to arrive in St. Petersburg until 21:00 but it seems like we should get there considerably earlier.31 Aug -- En route from St. Petersburg to Pskov. In a bus again. This one not as nice as yesterday's and more crowded. The road is bumpy as hell and you feel every one. The scenery is a bit strange. It feels as if we're driving through Peru or something, rather than Russia. The weather is gorgeous today. It cleared up not long after I stopped writing yesterday. My trepidation began to subside a bit as we entered St. Petersburg. The weather got better, I began to sense the benevolence of the fellow passengers, and just the whole vibe of the city was more welcoming than I imagined. We didn't get to see a whole lot, but what little I could see from the bus was amazing. I'm so bummed I wasn't able to get a bunch of photos. The city was really quite breathtaking. Our bus arrived a half-hour early so we were waiting outside at the drop-off location for awhile. Luckily the weather had taken such a turn for the better. Szarapow showed up right on time and we immediately set off for the club on foot. It was about a 10-minute walk. From there the whole night was a bit of a blur. Never experienced anything quite like it. Time was extremely tight. We got to the club around 21:15 and the band before us was already playing. We loaded our shit in, ate a quick but very delicious bowl of food, and Szarapow took our merch to the merch table. By this time the band had been finished for a little while so everyone was antsy for us to get the hell on stage. We wolfed down the rest of our food, set up, did a soundcheck with everyone in the audience watching us, and then just dived into our set. All this within probably a half-hour of first setting foot within the club. We had some relatively small equipment problems but otherwise it went OK. As is always the case, I wasn't too aware of what was going on while we were playing, but I got a sense of the energy being projected back at us from the crowd, and there was a lot of it. We did 2 encores. They wanted more, but I just couldn't do it. We were all really tired and it was hot as fuck up there with hardly any air to breathe. Plus, having eaten literally immediately before taking the stage didn't sit too well with me. I got off stage as quickly as I could. I couldn't get into our backstage area right away because it was locked and there was just chaos all around me, so I dove behind the merch counter, drenched with sweat and gasping for air. I was there for a few minutes before the guy came to let us backstage where I collapsed on the couch and was able to rest for a few precious minutes and have a cold beer. Before long, we were being asked to pack up and leave, which we did before I even had time to leisurely finish my single beer. We couldn't have been in the club for more than 2 hours all said and done. We took a couple "citizen" taxis to Szarapow's apartment. They have a practice here whereby ordinary people with cars act as taxis for cheap prices just to earn a little extra money on the side. It's a pretty good system. Makes it very easy to get around. We all piled into Szarapow's tiny one-bedroom (if you can call that a bedroom...I'd call it more of an alcove) apartment. Space was extremely tight, made even tighter by the fact that not only did it have to accomodate the 4 of us and Szarapow, but also 2 of his friends and his cat! Mikey wasn't too happy about the cat as he's allergic to them. The 2 friends slept on a couch-bed in the kitchen, I slept with Szarapow in his bed and the other 3 slept on the floor. I was kept awake by some kind of bugs biting all over my arms, but inevitably fell into exhaustion-induced slumber. Damn, this road sucks!!! We woke up relatively early this morning in order to attempt to do something other than get something to eat and get to the bus station. We failed, of course, but at least we accomplished what needed to be done. Now we are about halfway to Pskov. Despite the beautiful weather this place is still pretty fucking depressing. Hopefully the gig tonight is as good as last night's, but we have a little more time to rest.
 The one, very crappy picture I ended up getting of St. Petersburg, from the bus. A terrible shame as it was quite a beautiful city. |
 Just off the bus, waiting for Szarapow |
 Outside Moloko, St. Petersburg |
 Out Cold at Moloko |
 Crowd shot at Moloko |
 Szarapow cooks a quick breakfast before we have to go the the bus station |
 Us with Zhenya getting ready to board the bus to Pskov |
 Szarapow gets a shot off literally as we're driving away |
1 Sep -- Back in St. Petersburg. Sitting in a train station waiting for Szarapow. Before I explain why we're back in St. Petersburg and not in Moscow like we're supposed to be, let me pick up where I left off yesterday. We disembarked in Pskov, coincidentally enough, again a half-hour ahead of schedule and parked ourselves in the most visible spot to wait for those who would fetch us. The bus station was pretty much like what I saw of the rest of the city: run-down and worn to the bone. It reminded me a lot of the train station in Skopje, except this had less of a city feel and more of a town-in-the-middle-of-nowhere feel. Not a place that makes you feel comfortable at all. We stuck together like glue waiting there. We sat there for about 45 minutes getting increasingly nervous. Finally, a couple of guys who we noticed standing nearby for the past half-hour or so hesitantly came over and asked, "Out Cold?" Apparently, our early arrival kinda threw them. Anyway, we quickly loaded everyone and everything into 2 cars and made our way to the club. On the way we saw the flyer for the show. It was the most generic, minimalist, no-frills flyer I had ever seen in my life. I liked it. The club, called TIR, was indeed as cool as everyone said it would be. It's a combination bar, lounge, restaurant, rock club, and I guess also offers some kind of lodging. It's decorated with lots of interesting artwork and various metal "stuff" and has a cool balcony. It's really hard to describe, but the whole place had a really cool and unique atmosphere, plus a great backstage. We hung out there for quite a while, soaking up every moment of relaxation that could be had. They made us some good food from their kitchen. It was pretty late before we soundchecked. We were the only band playing so we just soundchecked and played like 10 minutes later. The house backline was pretty weak. Small amps, small drums, small sound, but I kinda liked it in a way. It reminded me of the way hardcore bands sounded in the early '80s. We busted out our set and the people didn't seem very moved. Not a tenth of the reaction we got in St. Petersburg. After we got offstage, though, people wanted more, so we got on and busted out 4 more songs. We ended up doing two more multiple-song encores. We did almost every song we knew. The most of the whole tour. They were definitely more into it than they seemed, especially evidenced by the fact that we sold a good amount of merch, including 3 full-priced tour shirts! Never expected that in such an apparently poor city. Oh, here's Szarapow. Thank god. Gotta go.
 The charmingly-generic flyer |
 Backstage shenanigans in Pskov |
1 Sep -- On the train from St. Petersburg to Moscow. OK, where was I? Yeah, 3 shirts plus some CDs in Pskov was surprising. After the gig we relaxed and unwound backstage over a couple of big mugs of complimentary flat, warm beer. 'Twould've been better if they had been nice and frosty, but it was very nice nonetheless. I was having so much fun I even broke a mug and had to pay them 50 rubles for it. Oh, what a rocknroll animal I am! Ever since arriving in Pskov we were discussing and debating with the guy there (Roma) our options on how to get to Moscow today. It was a little complicated because all the trains from Pskov to Moscow (there might've only been one, I don't remember) would put us in Moscow too late, so they suggested renting a bus to drive us through the night so we'd arrive there in the morning. It would be expensive (5000 rubles) but they knew someone who could cut them a deal and we loved the idea of getting to Moscow with plenty of free time before the gig. Well, that was the plan until they discovered their connection's vehicle was out of commission and it would end up costing considerably more to get someone else. Luckily, however, they devised another plan. One that would put us in Moscow a little later but would end up being cheaper: put us on an overnight train back to St. Petersburg and have Szarapow arrange an early train from there to Moscow. Sounded great. One small problem: they ended up not being able to get ahold of Szarapow, a fact of which we were completely unaware of as we lingered around the St. Petersburg train station looking for Mr. S. As more and more time passed with no sign of him we decided I would have to try to call him. I got absolutely nowhere trying to figure out the phones there and eventually got the invaluable help of a woman who, as it happens, was on her way from Estonia to Moldova. To our great fortune she spoke fluent Russian and English, had some time to kill and helped me out tremendously in getting ahold of Szarapow. If not for this kind woman we probably wouldn't be on our way to Moscow right now, but rather ringing up our friends in Helsinki trying to put an end to our misery. Anyway, this woman (who's name I don't even know) told me how to properly use the phone. I had 2 numbers for Szarapow, neither of which worked and there was no indication as to why not. After several fruitless attempts I decided to try to call Grigory (our contact in Moscow). I had 3 numbers for him, none of which worked, except for one, which I found out from the helpful woman was some candy factory!!! I was about to lose my fucking mind and we were talking about calling Helsinki when someone the woman was with (husband? boyfriend?) just happened to ask some random guy about the numbers. Turns out that for some mind-boggling reason all the leading "7"s in the numbers had been changed to "8"s. Fucking A!!! So with this new and improved number I reached Szarapow right away. I told him we were waiting for him in St. Petersburg and he told me he had no idea. He never got the message from the people in Pskov. I couldn't believe it. Apparently they did try to call but for various reasons never got through. So he said he'd be there as soon as he could, which unfortunately wouldn't be immediately because he was supposed to meet someone. He ended up sprinting in about an hour-and-a-half later. We made a mad dash to the main train station (apparently there's a bunch of them in St. Petersburg) where we learned the best we could get at this point was an 8-hour ticket that would put us in Moscow at 21:00. Fuck. It was better than nothing so we had to take it. We had about an hour to spare so we did a little shopping where I picked up a bootleg copy of the new Motörhead CD at a very obvious bootleg price. Now we sit on a mystifyingly slow-moving train sweltering in the heat of what is, outside, a very gorgeous late-summer day. Hopefully we pick up some speed and get a little air circulating in here. Man, what a fucking day. We're all exhausted. Had to sleep on these hard, morgue-like shelves on the train last night. Between those and the clamorous noise of the train, sleep was hard to come by. Got 6 hours 'til we hit Moscow (or 5½ if this trip is like the others). Should be able to get some rest. If we get some damn air, that is. We've just stopped completely now. Lovely!
3 Sep -- On the train back to Helsinki. We were just awoken for the border crossing so I assume we've just entered Finland. Moscow was a fucking trip! Our train arrived precisely on time and 2 people immediately got on and intercepted us. Thank god because I don't think we could have found anyone in that train station. It was positively swarming with people. So, Denis and some girl who didn't really speak English helped us off the train, gave us a quick bite to eat, put us in a couple cars and took us to the river (our first gig in Moscow was on a boat on the Moskva River!). Apparently there was some confusion as to where exactly the boat was as we walked back and forth along the river for a good half-hour with all our luggage. Hardly a tolerable experience considering how exhausted we were. After several cell phone calls we managed to locate the boat. It was smaller than I had imagined it would be but it was really nice nonetheless. Much nicer than the boat we played on in Amsterdam. [Our train just stopped again. I guess we aren't out of Russia yet. Outside our window I see what look like soldiers with dogs, and they're definitely Russian.] We got there so late (around 22:00) that we only had like 15-20 minutes before we had to play. We used what little time we did have to have a quick rest on the deck as the boat pulled away from the dock. It was heavenly to be able to sit down and feel that cool breeze off the water. It was the first pleasant experience since the time spent backstage after playing the night before in Pskov. Before we knew it we were being told it was time for us to play. The stage was surprisingly spacious considering how cramped everywhere else seemed to be. The stage area was at the front end of the boat and, while it was enclosed, there were windows all around so there was a great view. The window behind me was open and there was an intoxicating breeze coming off the water which was very cool and refreshing. Much nicer than a hot, stuffy club and and it enabled me to play better. The view was awesome as we floated down the river. It was really hard to concentrate on playing as I kept turning around to look out the window. It was truly an incredible experience to be playing as we sailed down the Moskva River. Beautiful, surreal, unbelievable. Man, what an opportunity. The show itself was OK. Nothing out of this world or anything. The boat wasn't that big so it couldn't hold a ton of people to begin with. Plus, the way it was set up, there wasn't a lot of room in front of the stage, so even if there were more people, only so many peole could've watched us. The crowd was really good, though. They really got into it and bought a good amound of merch. Definitely one of the coolest, most unique shows I've ever played. Probably second only to Ingólfstorg. After the show we went straight to our hotel. We demanded to have a hotel as we were in desperate need of a good, solid rest and a nice shower and all that. It was indeed great after the 3 extraordinarily grueling days we had just endured. The next day we were to play Moscow also and this was the first time since Iceland that we didn't have to spend all day travelling to the next city so we took the opportunity (thanks to our chaparone Stepan) to see the grandeur of Moscow. Fucking A. I knew it was going to be impressive, but Red Square fucking blew me away. We walked around the city quite a bit in the few hours we had in full tourist mode. At around 18:00 we went back to the hotel, checked out and went to the club. The R Club (I'm assuming the R is for rock, baby) is probably the biggest rock club in Moscow for underground bands. When we got there the show was already underway and there were a ton of people there. We weren't able to headline the show because we had to be on the train back to Helsinki at 23:00. It's an 11-hour trip and the only way to catch our flight, which leaves today at 16:00, was to travel overnight. So we went on after the band who was playing when we showed up. The club was really first-rate. Big place with a shitload of people. We estimated around 500. The sound onstage was good and everything went smoothly. The crowd was fucking great. They went wild. I didn't see it, but that's what they tell me. Mikey had people stagediving off his back! We played our normal-length set, but surprisingly there was no call for an encore. That being the case I'm sorry we didn't play longer, but I guess they had enough. Anyway, it was a really great show. The other guys say that it was the best show of the tour. I don't think so, but maybe that's because I didn't see the audience reaction. We hung out backstage for maybe 15 minutes before we had to leave for the train station. We packed up all our shit, said goodbye to everyone, jumped into a couple cars and went to the station. When we got there we somehow lost track of the other car which had Deuce and all of our luggage. We had very little time to spare so it was a pretty panicky situation. We found each other just in time, though, and dashed to the train, said our last goodbyes, and settled into our cabin on the train. We were very glad to see the conditions were much better than the night train we took from Pskov. We had our own room with 4 beds with nice mattresses and blankets. Even though we were totally exhausted we went to the dining car and had our own little end-of-tour party. I had some delicious Volga herring and we all drank plenty of vodka. We had some difficulty finding our cabin as we stumbled back, but luckily we did. We all slept like the dead. Mark woke up this morning to Mikey in bed with him. I guess he was too drunk to make it back up to his top bunk after a midnight trip to the toilet or something. The beds in here barely hold one person, so you can imagine Mark's horror. I don't know how long the poor stewardess was knocking on our door this morning trying to wake us for the border crossing. Man, am I fucking tired. I knew the Russian leg was gonna be grueling but was even worse than I thought it'd be. It was well worth it, though, of course. Man, what an amazing time. Well, I'm gonna try to get a little rest before we reach Helsinki.
 A few precious moments of rest after we first get on the boat. Our dour expressions belie our joy at getting the chance to rest. |
 Outside the boat. Unfortunatly, not the greatest quality picture. |
 Mikey's psyched about the prospect of getting a real night's sleep. A picture's worth a thousand words. |
|
 Exploring the city |
 Red fucking Square |
 Out Cold at R Club |
 Our luxurious accomodations on the ride back to Helsinki |
Photos from
Korab Plyvyot (the boat), Moscow
More photos from Korab Plyvyot
More photos from
R Club, Moscow
Still
more photos from R Club!
Yet
even MORE photos from R Club!!
3 Sep -- On the plane back to Iceland and then on to Boston. When we got off the train in Helsinki all the Hero Dishonest guys (except Pentti) and Kalle were there to greet us. We put our luggage in their van and went to have a quick bite at a Malaysian restaurant before they drove us to the airport. It was really nice to see them again. We all had a rousing good meal together before they dropped our sorry, tired asses off at the airport. Well, that's all folks! Fucking hell, I can't believe how good this tour has been. Everything went really well. Even Russia went relatively smoothly. Thank god. We heard reports of some trouble while we were there. Some kind of hostage situation at school involving children, and a car bomb at a Moscow subway station, which is particularly scary since we took the subway while we were there. Even though we didn't do too well financially, this was easily my favorite tour I've ever done. Thanks to everyone who made it possible or simply helped out in some way: Sigurður Harðarson, Reign Of Bombs, Hero Dishonest, Tommas Svendsen, Christina (Ungdomshuset), Szarapow, Grigory Feldman, Sergey (Moscow), Kjetil (Oslo), Birkir Viðarsson, Chris (Linköping), Sven Kajsajuntti, Gyða Hrund Þorvaldsdóttir, Hákon, and Ola. Hope to see you all again someday! Over and out.
 Jussi tries to live up to his moniker as the ugliest Swedish hardcore guy |
 Mark, Mikey, Kyle Minoque, and Dirty Larry |
 Noseferatu strikes |
 One last group shot... sniff... |
 Finally, one last loving look at Iceland on the way home, Keflavík to be specific |
(I went back to Iceland nearly a year later and travelled about the north of the country. To read about that, click here.)
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