The First Day

Today is Tuesday. February 11, 2009. Today marks My first day back out on the road for this year. It is a bittersweet day. However, it is a much different day than what I normally have. What makes it so different, other than being on the road of course, you ask? Well, I am back in Europe, Switzerland to be exact, and over the next few posts, I hope to re-introduce you to my life on the road in Europe.

It started out simple enough, Waking up, having a breakfast date with my wife at chick-fil-a, and then hopping a ride to the airport after spending the morning exchanging animal sounds with my little boy, who mind you has some of the best animal sounds ever. period. I jumped on an express jet in Nashville, and flew to Newark, New Jersey. After grabbing a bite to eat, and hanging with my other band mates for a couple of hours, we all loaded on board the big jet to carry us over seas. Our flight was largely empty. I had an entire row, seven seats, spanning two aisles, to myself, as did most everyone else on the plane. I almost felt sorry for the first class section which was almost completely full, until I tried reclining my seat to sleep, and remembered why I wanted to fly first class over seas someday.

We touched down in Zurich around 8:30 in the morning. My wife was still sleeping back in Nashville, where it was only 1:30 am. Fortunately for me, I was able to sleep for about 2/3 of the flight, which was REALLY nice. I didn't know most of it happened at all! Once in Zurich, a quick stop at immigration for another stamp in my passport, slowing only momentarily by baggage claim with the handful of passengers from our flight to retrieve my bag, and then I stepped out into Switzerland. I felt strangely right at home.

I am presently sitting in my hotel room, resting (not sleeping mind you!) from all of the traveling. I am stretched out on my soft bed, reclining, (unlike those upright airline seats!) and listening to the wind whistle past my window, throwing the light rain all over the place. The echoes of the cleaning ladies speaking swiss-german float down the hall, like a foreign film left on just a little too loudly in the living room, only, these voices re attached to people, and not two speakers beside my television. Zurich is beginning to feel more like home every time we pass through here. The airport and hotel we stay in has lost most of it's foreign charm and mystique, and now it feels like another version of home, where everyone speaks a different language and my money looks like I emptied out the monopoly set before I left the house.

Who would have thought that after such a simple start to the day, I would find myself on the other side of the world, relaxing in a swiss hotel?

So until I write again dear friends, be well.