Jet Lag Experiment
Hello from various places.
I have received a number of complaints from crotchety friends and family that I have become rather tardy lately in the posting of blogs. Apologies if you agree with them- and you should, because it’s true- but I would ask you to consider that, since my last blog, I have been involved in a sadistic jet lag experiment.
Jet lag is defined as ‘a temporary disruption of the body’s normal biological rhythms after high-speed air travel through several time zones’. The last few weeks have revealed a new form of jet lag to us, in which the body is not temporarily, but constantly disrupted. Starting in San Francisco, we flew for eleven hours to Japan (crossing the International Date Line), spent two days at the mind-blowing Fuji Rock festival, flew thirteen hours to New York (crossing the Date Line again) and several days later flew for six hours back England. Clearly, there was no time to adjust properly to any of the time zones visited, so I was resigned to just stumbling around and enjoying the ride.
The tiredness felt on arrival in Japan quickly morphed into a deep-seated delirium in which working out who was talking to you and for what reason was essentially impossible. This is a particularly unhelpful state to be in when encountering Japanese customs officials, who were already predictably suspicious of a long-haired musician arriving from California. Happily, everyone else in our party seemed to be struggling similarly at this point. Everyone apart from Jamie that is, who apart from being a travel ironman, turned out to be the spitting image of several of the Japanese clothing models whose images fortuitously adorned the walls of the airport.
As always, the flying marathons have been entirely worth it. Listening to Norwegian orchestral space-prog (the wonderful Jaga Jazzist) in the valley of a misty, off-season Japanese ski-resort was positively life-changing, as was playing a set overlooking the bay at the Newport Jazz Festival after the Chick Corea Freedom
Band. We take a two month break from the rigours and delights of touring at the end of this month. In the meantime, we press on to the next gig somewhere in Europe… after I return to the airport, where, in a jet lagged stupor, I left my suitcase on the reclaim belt.
Originally posted on Jamie Cullum’s website.