Returning to Holland from the UK was really weird, because when you do something you love every day quite intensively for over 2 months, the contrast with the every day cycle back home is quite large. Luckily enough, our booker/manager Cedric booked us a small 3 show tour through the northern of France, an excellent way to postpone the return to the cubicle. We had just enough time to do our laundry before firing up the Vansington again and leave for Caudry, Thiant and Lille. What happened on tour can be best illustrated by this movie:

For the record, our laywer did not make us say this: although getting drunk is a lot a fun, it can be quite harmful too. Especially when wearing contact lenses. In my (Casper) hungover mood, on the last evening of the tour, just before the drive home, I tried to remove my lenses, which were stuck to my eyeball because I ‘’forgot” (read: was too drunk) to take them out the night before. After spending 45 minutes in a small French café-toilet trying to grab these sticky fuckers I gave up. I would remove them when I got home. So when I got home, still hungover and completely exhausted, very ready for my own bed after spending the night on a table in a French community centre, I thought, let’s get this over with once and for all, let’s get rid of these lenses. And I started fiddling, picking, scratching and pounding my eyeballs again, but I just couldn’t manage to get them out. I took some painkillers and went to sleep, expecting to wake up blind. I had set my alarmclock to 8am, and immediately rode my bike (while wearing sunglasses in the morning, Ray Charles style..) to the nearest optician, to seek some professional assistance in this delicate matter. A lovely lady had a good look at my tomato colored eyes and concluded, much to my discontent and disbelief, that there were no lenses present in Mr Rockstar’s eyes. Still sleepdrunk and very cranky, I demanded a second opinion, but again, another Pearl employee told me exactly the same. So… Somewhere along the line, I must have accidently flicked out my contacts, and since I’m not that visibly disabled (-0,75) and since I was quite, erhm, ‘out of focus’ so to say, I didn’t notice the difference. The night before I must have spent a good hour or two in my bathroom poking my eyeball, for no reason. Nice.