226 days left until the premiere of Iron Sky The Coming Race, and I’m sitting in a bed in Brussels, at a prestigious old Metropole hotel, built in 1895. The hotel was designed by architect Alban Chambon, and it truly is amazing. Huge pillars, detailed ornamented roofs and windows, marble floors and stunning lobby and bar, this place is like no other hotel I’ve visited. It feels like a time capsule left untouched amidst modern heart of Europe.
I arrived to Brussels after a night of basically no sleep. I had stayed awake, like I often do before going abroad, which is kinda funny because I travel a lot, but somehow my body prepares me for the uncomfortability of multiple transportation and becomes all tense and mind all clogged with nonesense the night before.
Such was the case last night, too. I tossed and turned next to my softly sleeping wife until decided to get up at 4 AM and went playing Hearthstone to the living room. My head was killing me and I felt grumpy and exhausted. Somehow, I found a 45 minutes of sleep just before my wakeup call at 5 AM, after which there was no time but to pack and get ready to hit the airport.
Annika, my wife, drives me to the airport. She always does that, bless her soul, knowing how much I hate leaving in the morning in a taxi. Being able
to listen to few of your preferred songs, talk this and that with her and go through upcoming schedules really eases my mind.
Also, god bless the Finnair Gold membership. Dropping my huge bag (I always pack every piece of clothing I own) to the belt and slipping in the lounge in Helsinki truly is wonderful, blissful and mildly luxurious experience. On the plane, I nod
on and off, reading Monty Python’s Eric Idle’s self-written blog-turned-into-diary “The Greedy Bastard Diary”, which prompted me to start writing my own travel diary for the fun of it.
In Brussels, the weather is way hotter and way sunnier than in Finland. I commute a sweaty train and metro ride to the hotel, dragging my huge bag behind me. Somehow, I take a wrong turn – my sense of direction is notoriously bad – and find myself walking across the local red lights district, where amazingly shaped, beautiful women strut in the windows of seedy little houses lining a piss-drenched street populated by hobos, drugdealers and other rather suspicious looking individuals.
Room at Hotel Metropole isn’t ready yet. Simultaneously, China is pinging on WeChat and I’m already late from my meeting with the consulting editor Jan Hameeuw, with whom we are doing finishing touches on Iron Sky The Coming Race.
I stagger through the WeChat meeting and rush with a metro to Jan’s company Fridge TV, where we finally get to work on dotting the I’s and crossing the T’s of the first half of the movie.
The cut feels really, really good. Having deliberately not watching the edit in about a month, it’s good to have fresh eyes and thoughts. We both spot little nooks and crannies here and there we can slice and dice to get the flow even better, but overall, the thing is in mint.
The day winds to an end and I finish it off by having a lonely dinner with mr. Idle on my Kindle at a brilliant Japanese restaurant around the corner, Skype a bit with Annika and finally doze off on the bed to the huge disappointment that Twin Peaks isn’t on until next week the next time.