Senigallia, Italy. I awoke on Saturday morning to nothing short of the most beautiful day of this leg yet. The sky was dotted with cotton ball clouds and the sun was giving us the warmest welcome. Our hotel was RIGHT ON THE ADRIATIC SEA and my room had a view of it. I nearly collapsed when I walked into my room. I flung the balcony (yes balcony) doors open, quickly changed into a summer frock, and made sure my bike was off the trailer and ready to go. After a brief breakfast with the band on the ROOF TERRACE, Jenni Steven and I hopped on bikes and went exploring. Gorgeous small old Italian town. When everything began to close down for lunch (so civilized, those Italians), so did we, parking ourselves at an outdoor cafe and ordering glass after glass of Prosecco.



Melissa arrived later that afternoon and it was a joyous reunion to say the least. We walked and walked and talked and talked and finally settled down at a restaurant on the water. All I can say is.... fresh pasta with fresh seafood. I am simultaneously crying and salivating at the thought of it. And yes, gelato after. One scoop of Strattiatella and one of well... cold brownie batter. I can't talk about this anymore. Lastly, we met up with Jenni Steven and Graham for a nightcap on Steven's balcony.





Next day Mel and I went for a cold and rainy bike ride along the water. At the pivot point of our journey we sat on picnic benches, stared at the Adriatic, and caught up. Eventually we made our way to the venue. She came with us on the bus to Verona only to take a 6am train back to Rome. I am a lucky lucky girl for I will see that beautiful lady again in July. With that in mind, our parting could be less dramatic than usual. :)

I am determined to spend my few days in Italy sightseeing til my legs cannot bare to walk another step. So I woke up mad early in Verona and hit the streets. I walked for four hours with only a fifteen minute break to scarf down an entire spinach and mozzarella thin crust pizza. I saw the Arena, "Juliet's balcony," and beautiful piazza after beautiful piazza.



The venue was STUNNING. One of the most ornate we've ever played. I had a small but mighty breakthrough during the show. We dance in The Great Curve as part of the first encore and it is always at that particular point in the show that I really have to muster up energy because not only have we been dancing for over an hour but it is a particularly lively number. But for some unknown reason, I busted through that barrier last night and had a BLAST performing it with a newfound source of energy at the ready. Perhaps it was because the audience was partying like crazy. That sparked a whole series of new discoveries for the last few numbers. When I came on to sing Everything That Happens, I was able to actually take in where I was. Standing on that raked stage in front of five goldleaf painted balconies packed with people on their feet in Verona, Italy. I teared up. Prosecco and bruschetta followed. The majority of us, including Cindy and David, found one of the few cafes still open and made it happen. A delight.

Also in Paris, we performed four songs for a french music tv show called One Shot Not. It is hosted by a famous drummer who invites you to play with him in his "living room."

A Few Random Images

This was one of the installation art pieces we saw at an underground punk/goth 24-hour art club in London:


Guinness, James, and traditional Irish music in Dublin:


For my birthday, Steven, Jenni, and David made a bar full of all my favorite ingredients for me in the catering room. This is one of the photos taken during the dance party that ensued:


Paris:


The view from my room in Bath:

We rolled into Sheffield at around 3am. I slept until just before the complimentary breakfast ended and joined Jenni and Graham for some yogurt and toppings. I got the most surprising and joyous phone call from Miss Jessica Halliburton in my hotel room! I was completely FLOORED by her detective work. Jessica, thank you again for that.

Next on the agenda - birthday trip to the nail salon. Unfortunately it smelled so densely of acrylic that we opted for a more classy affair. At around 3pm we (Lily, Jenni, and myself) went for tea and dessert wine at a French cafe. On to sound check, dinner, a sold out gig (David blew up - rightfully - at a security guard in the middle of the show!), and finally - I was led into the catering room at the end of the night to a surprise party equip with a huge chocolate cake and a band-made bar full of my favorite ingredients (gin, cachaca, mint, chopped limes and lemons, a fantastic home made sangria by Sir Steven, the list goes on...). Paul, the bassist, became the DJ for the night, Steven the bartender, and we danced the night away... well, until bus call. :) It was raucous and Dionysian (sp?) and lovely. I missed you guys but felt you in spirit. Photos to come. I might be one of the luckiest girls to ever turn 24.

Yesterday we ended the longest string of shows we have ever had. In 11 days, we performed 10 times in four different countries. We all were thrilled to have a day off and even more excited to sleep in the same hotel for two consecutive nights. The band and crew celebrated by gathering at the hotel bar (the ONLY bar in Newcastle, UK that stays open past 11pm on a weekday) and clinking glass after glass.

The next morning I met Jenni and David for a bike ride. What was supposed to be a leisurely ride along the Tyne River to the shore ended up being an arduous physical event. Up and down hills, along traffic, around construction sites, and every once in a while, a brief promenade with stunning views of Newcastle from a cliff overlooking the river and red roofs. We made it to a pedestrian tunnel that goes underneath the river. We were like three school children zipping down the incline on our bikes and pausing briefly at the end to ask a construction worker to take our picture. "This is really big for us; we've never ridden our bikes under a river before."



When we reemerged from our under-river adventure, a fellow rider stopped and asked if we were lost. This gent, James (I told him he had a "good strong name"), ended up being the Area Manager for Cyclists for that region. Thank God we ran into him because he whipped out map after map showing us where we were, where we came from, and how best to return. Eventually he told us to just follow him as he was heading in the same direction. He took us through a beautiful verdant shortcut that ended at a pub with one of the finest views of the city and all its bridges. We stopped briefly for a tea before heading back to the hotel. David had a meeting at 2pm to meet with art curators about a potential future project. He asked if we'd like to come along.

We dropped off our bikes and met Judith King and her partner Peter. Judith is a five foot tall fire cracker of a woman who is a self-proclaimed "spy for contemporary arts." What, pray tell, is that? She finds classic traditional English spaces and invites artists to create modern work from performance to installation pieces. They drove us out into the country to Belsay Hall, Castle and Gardens. The mansion, built in 1807, is displayed without furnishings and therefore is a sort of blank canvas for artists. She would love David to do a piece in the space, perhaps a la "playing the building." She wasn't quite subtle about it as she continually said, "Now david, I'm just planting a seed here... just planting a seed." Currently Stella McCartney has a gorgeous crystal horse hanging in the adjacent castle. David was busy taking photos of each room while Jenni and I tested out the acoustics with some pretty bizarre "sound improvisations." Lastly, they took us on a tour of the gardens, my favorite stop being a plant that smells EXACTLY like chocolate!

After a quick rest, most of the band met Jenni and me at a little independent movie theater to watch Shirley Clarke's 1964 film called The Cool World with a wonderful soundtrack composed by Mal Waldron and with Dizzy Gillespie on trumpet.

Oh boy, time is running out. We're in Sheffield now and its almost gig time. More later.

Obama in the UK

More than one Brit has told me of their excitement about Obama. Yesterday I was in an elevator with an older well dressed British lady. When the doors opened I said, "After you." She immediately identified my accent and said, "Are you American?" Yes. "I am just delighted with your president. And that gorgeous Michelle. Isn't she just beautiful?" "Yes she is, and don't forget intelligent!" "Yes, yes she is. Well I am just charmed. Have a good day." That is just one of many interactions I have had these past few weeks.

So I took a big spill on stage. Yep. Jumped up on the Drum Kit Riser and tumbled straight onto the floor. That happened. At the end of The Great Curve, I am supposed to hop up on the riser and continue some crazy arm movements. The carpet on the riser wasn't taped down and up went the carpet and up went Natalie. I basically fell onto my knees and over myself onto the floor, hopped back up, gingerly approached the riser and finished the dance. Oh my god - I've never been so embarrassed. The only thing that could be considered a saving grace was that a similar but less drastic thing happened to Steven as he approached his riser. The carpet slipped and he was able to recover. Oh man. I suppose when you're 80 or so shows into a run, its inevitable, no? Dad, time to finally get health insurance. :)

Anyhow, we finished the show just in time to catch Best Actor and Best Movie. See you folks in NYC soon!