Time is crazy up here. We spent a day in the mountains. A day. The road to Duchamp is not long. If you didn’t stay the night, you could drive all the way in twelve hours. But I’m guessing up there you’ve been receiving these once, maybe two a week at most.
Today I considered how our motorbikes are powered. We’ve been travelling for nearly a week, and we haven’t needed to refuel once.
On the surface we trek between gigs using train, or in a real tightness of funds, coach. One of these bikes up there would save me thousands. Jean-Michel refuses to tell us how the engine works, but I am sure there’s something like a bunch of flowers riding a miniature bicycle inside.
This far into the desert, time gets weird. I posted this this blog only three days after the last one, but I’ve no idea when the release date will be. The sand stretches to the horizon all the way round, and give little indication of distance travelled. Jean-Michel says not to worry. He won’t let us get lost.