Sitting in the van outside the hotel in Budapest today reminds me that we’re slipping gently into tour madness now. I’m not talking about hotel-trashing ad hell-raising, but the slightly punch drunk, hazy-minded feeling that tells you it’d be really nice to have some time off. It’s slightly similar to sleep deprivation, in that everything begins to seem mildly amusing for no apparent reason.

We’re sitting in the van watching Kelly, one of our security chiefs stand at the door of Chris’s van scanning each and every passer by to assess their potential trouble. This of course, is his job and he’s one of the best. We’re laughing not at him (unwise, given his size), we’re laughing at his subjects. The hotel is right in the most beautiful part of town and consequently full of tourists. Most of them of retirement age. We begin to amuse ourselves by assigning a story to each passing couple of pensioners. “quick Kelly, grab ’em, they’re from the Enquirer”, “stop that woman going in the front door there, she’s clearly going to go through the band’s bins”…

It’s all nonsense and only funny in our condition, but then, just as Chris and Jonny slip out of the front door of the hotel, there is a stream of about 40 women, all in their sixties, clearly on a guided tour or some kind of outing. They’re blocking the pavement completely, but not in the slightest bit interested in the passing pop stars. In fact they are far more interested in the foreign number plates on the van. We are doubled up with laughter as they stand around the front of the van pointing, while some even stop to take a photo of the German plates. Kelly is clearly as nonplussed as we are. With that, we slide shut the doors and head for Vienna.

The Viennese eBayers at the airport are somewhat similar in their laser beam targeting of the band. They ask soundman Dan Green for a signature. Dan P, the band’s trainer also gets asked. I’m somewhat disappointed that I’m plainly not band material and consequently don’t get asked to sign anything. Might have to get a hat like Jonny’s…

The Vienna show passes in something of a blur for me. I seem to have a million unfinished jobs that require my attention and I hardly make it out from under the stage all day. Luckily, Catering is just the other side of the wall from my corner of the stage. This means I’m never more than a minute from the espresso machine. Unsurprisingly, I get rather a lot done.

In a decidedly un- MTV-Cribs style, here’s where I live while I’m in the venue. It’s in the ‘tech bunker’ below the stage wings. If the photo was bigger, you’d see the back of the drumkit and the bass amp to the right and above. It’s all glamour for 42, I tell ya…

Yes, it’s dark, gloomy and a bit filthy, but I have put up some decoration to make it feel a little more like home.

I did also get out from the bunker for a look at the B-Stage action today.

Roadie #42