Day Five couldn’t come soon enough: The journalists have been without sunlight for nearly a week. From the plane, to the venue, to the bus, back to the plane, this group is truly getting a taste of the rockstar lifestyle. Next up was E-Werk, a techno club, previously an electrical substation. The psychological wear of the past few days now began to manifest itself in full:
Elliott Wilson: Can't stop. Won't stop. Show 5!
Tim Dormer: I just got full on molested by security at Paris airport. Like we're talking full pat down and around the corner!
Maud Deitch: Back in plane jail on the runway at CDG.
Erika Ramirez: Now that we're on the plane I need to take my pants off.
Mary H.K. Choi: I feel like Gabe's suitcases are just filled with sunglasses and cologne. Do you think Gabe's ever been self conscious in his life?
Maud Deitch: Desperate to find out what makes Gabe smell so amazing.
Jeff Rosenthal: Rolling Stone asked me to go see Rihanna tour around the world. Barely seen Rihanna; barely seen the world.
Elliott Wilson: Fly higher than weather.
J. Escobedo Shepherd: We are in hermetically sealed hellzone.
J. Escobedo Shepherd: [Rihanna] Navy is recapping last night's afterparty w/Sean Diddy, long lost uncle Akon. I thought I hallucinated him.
Julieanne Smolinski: Remember when we quickly saw daylight today? That was cool.
Maud Deitch: The only thing that would be interesting at this point is if like, Chris Brown showed up or we all died.
Little did Maud know...
J. Escobedo Shepherd: I'm so done with everybody on this plane and their stupid laughing.
Maud Deitch: This Australian motherfucker with the harmonica on the plane is about to get murked.
Julieanne Smolinski: Tensions running high on the Rihannairplane. We go from stuck on the plane to stuck on a bus to stuck in a venue. One dude is literally playing a harmonica.
Elliott Wilson: Wheels down! Berlin, ya bish!
Maud Deitch: Berlin smells like Christmas trees and its so awesome.
J. Escobedo Shepherd: German food sucks balls.
As the group arrives at the venue, it becomes apparent that it will be the exact same show they've seen four times, already. The crew knows Rihanna’s entire stage routine—same dances, same songs. Breaking points begin to emerge. The minutae is beginning to matter:
Jeff Rosenthal: This Rihanna show right now in Berlin is in a former Jewish detention center. Cool. Very cool. Feeling very safe.
J. Escobedo Shepherd: The shows are great, but they are the same every city. The plane makes me want to kill myself.
Jeff Rosenthal: Don't worry, we're already dead.
Erika Ramirez: It's tiring and the low amount of time we get with her has become frustrating.
Jeff Rosenthal: I know that dance, every dance, and each and every word to her speech about how (enter city name here) is special.
Maud Deitch: I love "Stay" the most. Still not sick of these songs.
Erika Ramirez: Jeff Rosenthal has kept me sane by being insane with me.
J. Escobedo Shepherd: Berlin gives the least shit about the "Take Care" interlude, are you surprised? SYNCOPATION, BISHES! Also, American "EDM" interludes sound contextually basic as fuck in Europe.
Tim Dormer: 1:30 a.m. BERLIN finished No. 5 in steamy old prison across road from where Hitler died. Not even joking.
Erika Ramirez: Why isn't there an Omarion plane? I'd go on that shit next week.
Eager to leave Berlin, the crew boards the jet yet again—headed to London, at this point. Yet: They’re behind schedule. No one has a hotel room. A lack of sunlight, cooked meals, and horizontal sleep is about to exact consequences.
Day Five: Paris to Berlin