We made many stops at the Columbia in the years. Sepultura was growing and I was planning where to go, to bring them to their fans. London is a Metal hotspot and consequently, we ended up at the Columbia again and again. One time, after the Russian tour, I had a bottle of vodka in my room to give Dad. We stepped out andwhen I returned, I saw the maid had helped herself to a couple nice swigs while cleaning!
The hotel was really nice to us and would open the bar when it was normally closed in the early evening. The last time we stayed there, we got a bit out of control, I will admit. My crew was known for their spunk and I will say, I loved this adventurous attitude of theirs. I love my crew deeply; I am crew too, you know! Goody, Eddie Rocha, Silvio Gomes, Rapadura, Nino, Macarrao, and Leo...my trusted henchman.
On the one particular night, we drank a bit too much. The bar in the hotel opened for us, which was a mistake. When it closed and we were left alone, the fun began. We entered the formal dining room and partied like it was the end of the world. The last thing I remember, Andreas and I were pulling tablecloths off tables that were set with china, trying to be like the magicians. We weren't very good at it and the dishes clattered and smashed.
In the morning, the crew was hungry and got some fried chicken from a local eatery. When a chicken leg flew into the man at reception's face, tossed by Nino, that was the final straw. We got the boot. We became the first band to ever be thrown out of the very tolerant Columbia Hotel. I do admit we were bummed but couldn't stop laughing at the crazy events. Going in the history books...
