Flight number 3, Ploughmans number 17. We had no idea what was about to hit us, from two rows in front of us, out of the nasal of an extremely H1N1-ridden couple of Belgians.
We’re in Brussels.
Here we are killing time backstage, testing out different looks and waiting to be led to the Traditional Belgian feast that had been promised to us.
Photo credit: Kenny.
Brussels street scene…
Finally, our feast! The first of quite a-many quiche.
The darkest time of day.
One month later….The time has come for Haunted Graffiti to stage a second campaign: this time they will set their sights on the continent of Europe. The men understand that they will be entering unknown territory, but will attempt to maintain their healthy diet against all odds. They have prepared themselves to sample the diverse range of cuisine that they will no doubt encounter.
In the following episodes, we will present an anthology of our escapades, nation by nation, in our attempts to sop up every bit of these vibrant peoples, our forays into the cozier places, the darker hidden corners. There will be lots of sleeping; strange animals; strange women; weeping teenage boys; uncomfortable seats; breath; travel by air, water, and land; ancient history; I’m Lovin’ It; anarchists; alternative lifestyles; bridges; pagan symbolism; döner kebab; ferry-oke; jazz cigarettes & bubble baths, and more.
Arriving at Heathrow, H.G. hops a flight to Belfast, Ireland…
…but not before napping on a bench.
Belfast was a bit moist, but we slept well.
Our first meal: saag paneer and tikka masala in Dublin.
View from the bedroom window at Peter’s grandparents home.
Mancunian urban fashion displayed by these chicks.
Tongue comparison with other ex-pats.
A Belgian journalist mistakes us for the other Times New Viking from Columbus, OH.
The weather was unbelievably decent.
Back to London, third time in five days. Here we are seen transporting a female photographer from Texas.
We had begun to stock up on a bizarre assortment of foreign goods, similar in look and feel to things we have in the USA.
Cryogenic sights on the road…
En route to some reggae bar in Bristol.
I believe this happened there, too.
Up bright and early the following morning, looking crisp.
It was very colorful at this tropical beach paradise in Newcastle.
Anglo-style breakfast and then we’re off––straight back down to the country’s southern end.
Even Dale is tired today.
Brighton was quite delightful.
Things got a bit wonky that night after we began cavorting with an Americaner and all his London cohorts. This guy:
Cole, in man-heaven.
View from a window in Brighton.
Dale declares, “A success!”
On the road to the Coachella Valley. Hawk-eye.
However, on the second day, there was scarcely a moment’s rest. In this series, the pressure these fine men feel is nearly palpable.
Aaron Sperkse.
Cole Marsden Greif-Neill.
Tim Koh.
Ariel Pink.
Genny Kilmore.
A few moments later, after a visit from the doc, the group loosens up a bit.
One thing is clear: it’s time to get nice, my friend.
Before they embark, one last session of the Kitchen Club will be held, on these very grounds, with what amounts to an harem of female guests—Taylor, Candice, Janet and Kathy.
The time is nigh. Now the real work begins.
The crowd awaits…
By the third day, the compatriots had arrived.
Jah Diamond & Reverend Green.,
Brian DeGraw.,
Ali K.,
Tennessee T. & Jennifer J.,
Kickball K.,
Farmer Dave Scher,
Trip & Geneva Jacuzzi,
and Genesis P-Orridge.
The last Cracker Barrel….Yuma, CA.
Many breaks similar to this one were taken on the road to Tuscon.
Tonight!
The Bats, temporarily divided, decide to enjoy themselves on this second leg of the journey. Here they are shown in typical Beverly Hills attire.
Shown from the perspective of Mr. Sperske.
The Bats & The Vivians finally arrive in Phoenix at sundown, but it won’t be long before they return to the road…
…this time in search of Cooperstown–Alice Cooperstown.
This will be the location for tonight’s Kitchen Club.
Unfortunately, the group was unable to document the Wings of Mass Destruction (W.M.D.’s), which were apparently somehow related to a group of Central American asylum inmates. Other sights:
The following morning, inspired by a film they had seen on television, some tried a new hairstyle for the day.
In a bout of nostalgia, the group attempt to recreate an earlier moment on tour.
Today, the Bats begin the epic journey to Phoenix. They plan to stay the night in Las Cruces.
Some came prepared for these long days of travel. Here, Mr. Aaron Sperske displays a fully loaded head of gear.
The following morning, The Bats Of Beverly Hills, and their traveling meal-mates, Vivian Girls, sit for breakfast at the Ranchway restaurant of Las Cruces. Though they are not pictured here, a few special members of the group enjoyed sopapillas, a New Mexican specialty.
Scars of tour.
A near disaster was averted due to the strength, courage, and the integrity of all parties who were involved in any manner.
Young Kenneth, truly going above and beyond the call of duty.
Unfortunately, it was closed.
Meager sustenance!
In Houston, festivities were enjoyed by all, but mostly by Kickball Katy.
Ultra-sheen.
Other sights….