To cap off a great 3rd day we were invited on a popular Albanian TV show
Morcky kept yelling GALO, which is a reference to our mate Andrea Galvagno who you’d love to have on your team when you find out you’re competing against young models in some sort of name that song challenge. Galo. Galo. Galo. When asked about the hunger strikes, we responded that we were there for the tomatoes and because as far as countries with Eagles on their flags go, Albania was good by us. Like I said previously, our politics were not begging for transparency like the newspapers seemed to do as the hunger strike came to a close. We were transparent. So transparent that the host asked us if we were on drugs, which none of us was. This was even before Morcky managed to spritz some nasty red bullish energy drink into the air and spray the show’s host, or drew a cock and balls on the table where we sat. It was however after the host had sort of warned us to be serious by saying that lots of people around Albania, Korsovo and Macedonia were watching. We won the Mega Battle, and the Mega Mega Battle, and even the Mega Mega Mega battle, but in a winner takes all Mega Mega Mega Mega Battle we lost. The girls delighted. Our friends watching in a nearby bar told us that people were almost as outraged as Irish fans watching Thierry Henry handle the ball as the French confirmed their presence in South Africa this summer. When the show finished, the host didn’t thank us. He just got up and out, hustling back stage in a way I interrupted as either extremely pissed off or just arrogant. In my eyes, this show was exactly the kind of numbing globalization that could continue to ignore places like Albania.
Off screen the walls continued to gain color …
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