The next day, in Reims, we stayed with an amazing French family who literally laid out a damn banquet for us before our show.  Then, the show.  Holy shit.   Reims, like Barcelona, hosted us in an intimate space (a pate and fromagerie, no bigger than 25×25 feet) crowded with 30 or so incredible listeners.  Jade and I both got a chance to connect with our audience on an almost one on one basis as the crowd stayed quiet and leaned in to our poems and the windows of the shop fogged up with body heat against the cold of January outside.  After the venue had closed, we stayed in to smoke cigarettes and drink champagne which the venue provided us.  If you’re ever in France, I really recommend you track down Slam Tribu, it was truly one of the best experiences I’ve ever had on tour, and the last chance Jade and I had to read poems together in Europe, at least for now.

In Reims, we visited the cathedral where Joan D’Arc allegedly convinced the King to go to war.  There were some pretty crazy statues in that place–my favorite was one of John the Baptist, with a[broken] depiction of Salome holding a plate sculpted where his now severed head would have been.  Very meta.

Our last show together was in Paris, at the Downtown Café, where we played our songs and later jammed with the house band (consisting of talented percussionists, guitar players, and a ssssssssmoking hot teenage sax player).

The Exit/No Exit tour was a major success, I believe, one with too many stories and jokes to share here—but let me say that Jade Sylvan is an amazing tour partner and friend, and her Madame Psychosis game is not to be trifled with.  For reals.

Also, imagine that this creepy angel is watching over you at night.

So, some more good things about Amsterdam: in the time before the show, we were led around by our friend and host Onno, who pointed out a few of the cool local points of interest and cultural markers. One thing that stood out: a barge covered in rusty bicycles, fished out of the canal.  Apparently, bikes are so numerous in Amsterdam that the discarded or lost bikes can actually clog the water to a boat-defying degree:

Jade and I both got to eat a ‘traditional’ Dutch meatloaf sandwich at a café—which was so good, you could have told me it was made out of people and I’d have wiped my mouth with a napkin corner and asked for another.

The next few days in Barcelona were some of the happiest in my recent memory. Despite it being January, Barcelona was wrapped in warmth and light reminiscent of a late American May. The sun shone every day.

Jade and I taught classes at the International School where Rocky works. In drama, I made kids read scenes from the Wizard of Oz, the Talented Mr. Ripley, and Shakespeare—and in practice for the Midsummer Night’s Dream cast, I got the kids to work with me on an exercise where they translated the Shakespearean language into modern day English so as to better connect with the dialogue. Nothing beats a 16-yr-old Hermia crying out, “I’m not so short I can’t reach your weave, you tall hooker.” Solid Gold. One of the 4th graders said he’d never forget me. Right back at you, Alexander.

Also, Jade and I both had the major privilege of performing as the first features at Slam Barcelona—what an incredible scene is growing there, seriously. We also got to perform at an intimate bar in the downtown of the city, and that show was one that Jade and I agreed was one of the best we’d ever performed in either of our respective careers. Some footage of my set can be found on the video page and also on my YouTube channel.

So, I don’t want to get into too much detail about Barcelona—there are too many stories and they’re all so moving and exciting that I’ll start typing and won’t be able to stop. So, in order to avoid the blog version of “A Moveable Feast [moved all the way to Spain],” as I have thus far, I’ll give you a photographic glimpse into beautiful Barce.