Bursa (apparently kebab capital of Turkey)

Day four (gig three) of our Turkish excursion and bunk flu has me firmly in its grip. Yesterday I felt dreadful and today I feel like shit, so thankfully there has been some measurable improvement. The germ-spreading capabilities of the onboard air conditioning system are of course to blame, the source of the outbreak almost certainly traceable to the bunk of monitor engineer Matt Rowley who's been coughing continually since we checked in at Heathrow.

The technical specs in the venues have been going steadily down hill since we started - today in Bursa we have equipment seemingly supplied by the Turkish equivalent of the Early Learning Centre. In Eskisehir last night we battled shoddy electrics, frankly bizarre mixing desk placement, a ragtag band of misfit mic stands that would not do as they were asked and a stage that, being honest, would have really benefited from a good hoovering. But, as is often the case in these situations, the gig sounded great. I guess it must fire the band up having to battle against the odds to put on a show.

Time for load in now, this time fuelled by a breakfast comprised of Les's delicious birthday cake and an ice lolly.