When I first discovered Green Day at 12, I read about their crazy Jakarta show on the Insomniac Tour and thought it would be cool to see them there one day. I never thought I actually would. As my flight descended to Soekarno-Hatta Airport, I thought, ‘what the fuck have I done?’

I originally only intended to fly out to Asia to take my mum to the Japanese shows. A friend we met on the 99 Revolutions Tour had helped us get tickets. Then the Jakarta and Kuala Lumpur dates were announced and I thought of my 12 year-old self wistfully reading about that show on the Insomniac Tour. I’d be out that way anyway, KL was only a £30 flight away from Jakarta, it would be Green Day’s first-ever Malaysian show, and I’d never been to either country, so I decided to go to both. It would be too much for my mum since she’d been mostly stuck in the house for five years, but she encouraged me to do it and I looked forward to telling her all about it when I met her in Osaka.

As soon as the Jakarta tickets went on sale, I joined a queue and waited for hours only to get kicked out. I gave up and went to do something else, but left the window open, just in case. When I came back, I was through. There were still plenty of tickets. The venue would be split into two and I got the ticket I wanted, up front on Jason’s side. A few days later, I got up at some godforsaken hour to access the KL presale and easily got a standing ticket. Couldn’t change my mind now.

‘I can’t believe you came to Jakarta just to see Green Day,’ said the taxi driver who took me into town. Neither could I, because I was really wondering what the fuck I’d done at that point. I’d say I’m an experienced traveller – I mean, I’ve been to Mauritania – but I was nervous. I usually learn some of the local language before I travel, but I’d been so stressed that I hadn’t got around to it. I didn’t know where the venue was or how to get to it. People often incredulously ask if I’m scared or at least embarrassed when travelling alone, and it makes me wonder if I should be.

But the staff at my hostel were lovely and I immediately made some friends. Despite reading that Jakarta is an ‘unwalkable shithole’ where there’s ‘nothing whatsoever to see’ and ‘men are creepy,’ I actually loved it. Well, I’d agree with the ‘unwalkable’ part, but there’s plenty to see. Everyone I talked to was kind and welcoming. No creepy men. A member of staff at the hostel arranged for one of her friends to pick me up after the show. I felt much better.



I arrived at the venue around noon. Late by British standards, of course, but early enough in Jakarta. There were about 20 people there. I’d completely relaxed. It was just another queue in a city that exceeded expectations. I even had someone to chat to when a Filipino fan arrived. He was seeing Green Day for the first time, as was the Indonesian man behind us who’d sat on a bus for over 18 hours to get there and said, ‘Green Day is my family.’

At 3PM, the main gate opened and we all ran inside to form two lines. As they moved forward slowly, the heat started to get to people. It was at least 35ºC and there was no shade. I’d only ever had heat exhaustion once in a Green Day queue, when a friend and I thought it was a good idea to sit in the ‘shade’ of portaloos in New Mexico, but it was starting and it got worse fast. I’d never felt more like I was going to end up like the woman who’d fainted or at least the guy who was throwing up. I considered leaving. I had no idea where I’d even go, though, so I tried laying down. I poured the water I had left on my cooling towel and dumped someone’s abandoned bottle of water on my head. Another fan offered me some wet wipes. By the time we lined up at the ticket gates and staff finally gave out water, I felt better. There was still a long final stretch to the pit. I ran further than I thought I could in that state, but I got lost! Thanks to a Singaporean fan I met at the ticket gates and the lovely Indonesian fans around us, I ended up on the barrier that split the pit in two anyway. The staff made sure we all had enough water. As we chatted and the sun sank, I felt completely safe and welcome.

The opening act was an Indonesian rock band, Rebellion Rose. They were great. I could even sing along when they played I Fought the Law and Blitzkrieg Bop.



I don’t know if I’d ever heard any crowd as loud as this one was when Bohemian Rhapsody started. They were even louder when Green Day came on and we sang along to The American Dream Is Killing Me. I’d told myself I wouldn’t go too crazy, since heatstroke would be disastrous with five more shows ahead, but when Green Day started playing Paper Lanterns, I couldn’t help it. If I could’ve picked any pre-Nimrod song, it would’ve been Paper Lanterns.



It made me so happy to see a lady in hijab get onstage for Know Your Enemy! Pretty sure that’s the first time ever? She froze up at first, which could happen to anyone, but Billie Joe was sweet about it and she sang the chorus to make up for it. She rocked and radiated joy. Billie behaved appropriately too, just giving her a fist bump that she could have turned down if she’d wanted to.



I heard that Green Day played Forever Now in Bangkok, but thought it might be a one-off… and then they played it. It took a few seconds for me to realise it was actually happening. And then I screamed like I was still 12. That is hands down one of the best Green Day songs and possibly their best live song. I never thought I'd be fortunate enough to hear it again.



Of course, I was going as crazy as ever at this point, but I was fine. I never felt ill again. There were quite a lot of phones out and Billie had told people to put them away in Longview, but of course, he had us get them back out for Boulevard of Broken Dreams. It was totally surreal to see him holding up the Indonesian flag in Are We the Waiting. I thought, ‘check this out, 12 year-old self. You will see Green Day in Jakarta.’



As incredible as it was to hear Paper Lanterns and Forever Now, Bobby Sox was probably the highlight for me. The show was coming to a close, I’d survived despite all my misgivings and the potential heatstroke, and it was all worth it. Billie asked 'do you want to be my girlfriend?' and 'do you want to be my boyfriend?' before starting the song and both times, men and women screamed 'YEEEEES!!!'

When he came back with his acoustic guitar to play Good Riddance, he joked, ‘Jesus, how many people here can play Good Riddance? Well, I can play it too!’ He asked if we wanted him or someone from the crowd to play it.

'YOU!' roared the crowd.
‘And I won't mess it up,’ Billie replied. He did burp though.

I met people from all over the world on the way out – Philippines, Singapore, India, China, Saudi Arabia, Russia and South Korea. The guy who was supposed to pick me up couldn’t make it, but I wasn’t worried anymore… until I had to get a motorbike taxi and I was speeding down a motorway with no helmet, feeling very much like I wasn’t on properly and would go flying off at any moment. I’d never been on any motorbike before. The driver filmed a selfie video featuring The Girl From England Who Came To Jakarta Just To See Green Day. He definitely doubled the price when we reached our destination, but I didn’t even care. I was alive and didn’t have heatstroke. My legs felt like jelly as I walked back to the hostel though.

By then, my mum had been to a regular doctor’s appointment. Despite having had perfect blood pressure all her life, it was suddenly 230/130. She would probably die if she boarded her flight to Japan. I was devastated. The whole point of all this craziness was to get her to the Japanese shows after she’d been stuck inside for so long. It wasn’t as important as her health, obviously, but I’d spent thousands of pounds to get her there and I’d only taken enough clothes and supplies for my time in Jakarta and KL. Everything else was in her suitcase. It was for the best that my tour in KL was cancelled at the last minute, because I needed to do some shopping and I really needed to do laundry. I considered just going home, because I wanted to be there for my mum at a time like that and I wasn’t sure I’d even enjoy anything anymore, but she and my partner urged me to make the most of it.



So I arrived at the National Hockey Stadium in Kuala Lumpur at about 12:30, mostly because I didn’t know what else to do. There were at least 300 people ahead of me this time. The queue was apparently growing at dawn. It was all very well-organised. I was impressed when the staff actually forced us to walk in. The crowd was already about five rows deep around the centre of the stage when I got to the pit, so I went for a spot near the end of the barrier, in front of the screen. The bloke next to me had come from Ipoh and we passed the time chatting about Green Day, Malaysia, England and Morocco. He was worried he might not enjoy the show because he preferred Green Day’s slow songs, but Wake Me Up When September Ends was the first song he learned on guitar, so he knew he had to go. He asked if I’d heard anything about Southeast Asia that I found totally untrue when I arrived. I couldn’t think of anything, but when he suggested ‘something like, you know, they’re so conservative and you’re not allowed to do anything,’ I was actually like… ‘yeah, I have heard exactly that and I did start to believe it.’ Westerners were practically expecting Green Day to be arrested for playing their hits in any Muslim country. A lot of them were furious and felt that Green Day were disrespecting their fans and roots by playing in these places. As someone with Arab roots I knew they were not going to get arrested, but I didn’t realise quite how much of an overreaction it was until I got there. I really did think they wouldn’t be allowed to swear or play Bobby Sox. I was completely wrong.

The Malaysian national anthem played. Then there was a long silence in place of the support act who were kicked off the bill. The weather forecast had been threatening rain throughout my time in Jakarta and KL, but there wasn’t any. Everyone was sure a thunderstorm really was coming that day. There was talk of the show being cancelled. As rain finally began to fall, thunder rumbled and there was no sign of Green Day at 8PM despite them being so reliable throughout the Saviors Tour, we began to panic that the show really might be cancelled. People were getting agitated. Hopeful cheers erupted whenever there was any movement on the stage, but nothing… until the pre-show playlist was finally switched off, the lights dimmed and Bohemian Rhapsody played.

The heavens had opened by then. It was absolutely pissing it down. Thunder was still rumbling and lightning flashing. Because the show never sold out, it was raining so heavily, and Malaysia isn’t known as a place where Green Day are a huge deal, unlike Indonesia, I thought the crowd might be less enthusiastic. I could already tell they’d be just as loud as Jakarta. I’m so glad I was exactly where I was, because I was surrounded by lovely Malaysian fans who were seeing Green Day for the first time and their excitement was contagious. I felt like I was seeing Green Day for the first time again. Everyone around me was screaming the lyrics, jumping and waving. Whenever I looked behind me, the rest of the crowd was going absolutely crazy; one united mass jumping all the way to the back and up into the highest seats.



I couldn’t believe my ears when One of My Lies started. I’d heard it once before and hearing it again seemed as unlikely as Forever Now. Since the catwalk was covered in puddles and Billie was having to shuffle so he didn’t slip, a fan couldn’t be brought up to sing Know Your Enemy. Billie climbed down to the barrier to let fans there sing. I was expecting Forever Now since it had been played twice in a row, so Revolution Radio was an equally exciting surprise. I (once again) screamed like a teenager when I heard the opening chords.

All that blathering Billie does about unity in Letterbomb – I felt it at this show like I’d never felt it before. I was drenched from head to toe, my voice was hoarse and I was still a bit worried about the heat, but I was just screaming, jumping, waving, singing and throwing my arms up along with everyone else. I couldn’t have stopped myself even if I’d wanted to. I don't remember when it was, but the crowd sang 'happy birthday' to Billie at some point.



It was melancholic but beautiful when Billie sang a few lines of At the Library before Good Riddance, as the rain continued to pour but no-one cared at all. It was one of those full-circle moments for me, since Green Day played it at my first show in Birmingham, when I was high up in the seats, and now I was on the front row in fucking Malaysia hearing a bit of it.

Someone I met in Jakarta – not a Green Day fan, although I almost convinced her to come to the show – asked if I actually remember all these shows. The answer is my expression as this show came to a close. I looked up as the rain was pouring and lightning was flashing as Billie sang Good Riddance, and there was just pure joy and wonder on my face. I asked my new friend how it was for him – although I could already tell we shared that same look of wonder – and he replied, 'it was amazing!’ Agreed. I bought a knock-off t-shirt and tote bag on my way out for a total of about £15. I probably could’ve haggled to get them for even less, but I was on a high and I didn’t care. The train back to central KL was full of Green Day fans looking like they’d jumped in a river. I’m sure we were all twice as heavy as we were when we arrived.

Even if the memories of specific songs fade, I will never forget the magical haze hanging over that show, the flashes of lightning, or the sound of the crowd as loud as the thunder. Pretty sure I’ll always be able to recall the moment Green Day ran onstage in Jakarta and seeing Billie holding the Indonesian flag, too.

My flight to Osaka was at 2AM on 20 February, so I had time to visit Putrajaya and Batu Caves before I went to the airport on the 19th. Putrajaya was beautiful, especially the Putra Mosque. Can’t believe I actually made it up the stairs to the caves after two Green Day shows and near heat exhaustion.

Sadness sank back in when I checked into a hostel instead of meeting my mum in Osaka. I tried to make the most of it, visiting Tsutenkaku and the Pokémon Center before meeting our friend who helped us get the tickets, and another lovely Japanese fan from GDC. She’d brought a bag of magazines and clippings for my mum. How sweet was that? We were all sad she wasn’t there, but we video called her so she could ’join us’ anyway.

The next morning, I met our friend again at 10:30 to queue for merch. The stands would open at 3PM. There were already at least 100 people ahead of us. By the time there were a few hours left to go, the queue was so long that it stretched across the bridge to the other side of the river. This is standard. Japanese people are really into merch.



There was still plenty left when it was finally our turn. I bought the black tour shirt (one for me and one for my mum), the white one, the towel and poster, because it’s not every day you fly 6,000 miles to see a band.



Another stall was selling Japanese CDs, so I bought Saviors for my mum since she hadn’t got it in her collection yet. They also gave me some free exclusive stickers.



The person who bought my mum’s ticket was someone I’d seen at European shows in the past, but didn’t know well until then, so that was nice. We met up near the venue and while we were looking for the cloakroom, randomly bumped into Kevin. He gave us some Prima Donna stickers.

I’d been at the back or sides many times, but it was the first time in 15 years that I had a seated ticket. We could see the ‘Badyear’ blimp perfectly for once. When Green Day started playing Who Wrote Holden Caulfield?, we turned to each other with wide eyes and screamed! We also looked at each in disbelief when Jaded followed Brain Stew.



Everyone around us was going crazy. The floor was split into small pens and I was very impressed when a guy managed to crowdsurf over one of them. Friends told us the front of the pit was dull, but we could see everyone jumping and dancing at the back. We also had a perfect view of all the flashlights lighting up the hall in Boulevard of Broken Dreams, and it was a breathtaking sight. Instead of singing ‘I can’t take this feeling anymore’ in Give Me Novacaine, Billie sang ‘I can’t do this feeling anymore.’



The highlight for me was Jesus of Suburbia. It was just an amazing performance of it. A long time ago now, when I did my tour of the Bay Area’s Green Day history, I wrote about how emotional it would be to hear Jesus of Suburbia live again after being immersed in its inspiration. That definitely hit me that night. Not only could I feel all that inspired the song, but all the different things it must have meant to everyone screaming the lyrics, and what it meant to me and how far I’d come myself.



I took the train to Nagoya the next day. When I walked into my hostel there, I heard Green Day’s name on the radio and then their cover of Working Class Hero played. I ate my miso soup from the 7-Eleven at the kotatsu and talked to a guy who had never heard of any of my favourite musicians (except Taylor Swift, of course), so he was very baffled by this nutter coming to Japan just to see Green Day. It was sadly clear at this point that my mum would not make it to Nagoya by tomorrow, so our Japanese friend helped us sell her ticket to a friend of a friend.

I met her at Nagoya Station before the show and we took the train out to the venue, a new place near the harbour. This was my first experience of the Japanese numbered entry system. We were let inside at doors where we organised ourselves in queues based on our ticket numbers, but it was vague. I was 280-something and very confused. Even Japanese people were baffled. It was pretty much just a bum rush. There was someone with 600-and-something in front of me. I probably went in before someone with a lower number. Anyway, I found my friend in front of the screen on Jason’s side and there was a bit of space, so the lady next to her very kindly let me in. The support act – Otoboke Beaver – are my friend’s favourite Japanese band and I could see why, because they were great. The drummer in particular was a badass. So much energy. My friend had a ‘Welcome Back to Paradise’ sign and Ernie puppet, and Ryan Baxley filmed them.

We hadn’t been to a show together since 2013, so it was great to watch Green Day take the stage together again. We’d been wondering what the surprise song would be, and we couldn’t believe it when we got Scattered! Again, if I could’ve picked any song from Nimrod, it would’ve been Scattered. That would have to be the highlight, but as I’ve found at many shows on this tour, I also loved hearing the songs I’d already heard over and over again; particularly Minority and Letterbomb in Nagoya.



It was still early when the show ended since Green Day started at 5PM, so we met other Japanese and European fans at a place called Dookie’s Pizza. There was a framed Dookie poster, mini Blue replica, and a random photo of Billie at Not So Silent Night in 2011. They played nothing but Green Day. An Italian fan gave out friendship bracelets. I took a Bobby Sox one for me and a Castaway one for my mum. Many of the fans who came from afar had always dreamed of seeing Green Day in Japan. Some Japanese fans had travelled to see them since they last played there in 2012, but it couldn’t compare to seeing them at home.



My mum wasn’t any better. She wouldn’t be making it to Yokohama. I reluctantly cancelled our last hotel, booked a hostel, and sold her ticket for the first Yokohama show to another British fan, Emily. As much as I was glad Emily had a ticket, I was feeling pretty miserable when I took the Shinkansen up to Yokohama.

Our numbers were 250-something. I expected a similar spot to the ones we had in Nagoya. My friend saw one of her friends at the end of the catwalk and decided to stand behind her. She eventually squeezed onto the barrier and beckoned me closer. Before Otoboke Beaver took the stage, there was a sudden surge. I’ve always been sceptical of people claiming they got pushed onto the barrier, but it genuinely happened to me then! I just happened to be in the perfect spot to get rammed into the last small gap without shoving or squeezing at all. It was one of the best spots I’ve ever had at the end of the catwalk. The universe was definitely looking out for me.

I’ll usually tell you that nowhere goes harder than England, but I have to admit that was not true on the Saviors Tour. I had clear air around me at every British show and in Jakarta, KL and Nagoya, too. However, even though that pit in Yokohama was split into small sections, we were so crushed that we could hardly breathe before Green Day even came on. Taller people – including me at points – were almost bent over. I didn’t know how much I’d missed that feeling until then. We were all grinning from ear to ear when Green Day took the stage. Billie was right there in front of us. On my right was a lovely young lady who was so excited that she kept screaming the band’s names, beside her was my Japanese friend, and behind us were Emily and a Chinese fan. We all kept catching each other’s eyes and beaming. No matter how crushed we got or how white our knuckles were as we clung to the barrier for dear life, it didn’t stop us throwing our arms up and echoing ‘whoooooah–ohhh–oh-oh’ to the American Dream Is Killing Me. It felt like the whole arena was shaking.

Mike ran onto the catwalk during Longview and he was so close that we could see the art on his pick. This was already the kind of show that whisked us out off the Earth, into another dimension where I was also my 12 year-old self, wistfully watching Bullet in a Bible and wondering if I’d ever see Green Day live – and realising I was.

The last thing I expected for the surprise song was a Saviors song. If you’d asked me whether I liked Strange Days Are Here to Stay, I would’ve said I didn’t care about it, but it sounded as amazing as everything else and I was so happy they played it. Maybe I’m converted now. I tried using my British Football Hooligan Voice to shout ‘SUZIE CHAPSTICK!’ No luck, of course.

The girl who got onstage to sing Know Your Enemy was so happy and she rocked! It was so cute when the crew made sure she got back to her spot.



Screaming the lyrics to Revolution Radio, I felt like I did in KL: in awe that after all these shows, I still felt like I was seeing Green Day for the first time again. And once again, I was struck by all those things Billie says about unity – I could feel it in my bones. 25,000+ voices united as one, regardless of who they were, how old they were, and where they came from. 25,000+ pairs of arms in the air, united as one. All the different things the lyrics meant to those 25,000+ people, united as one wild and passionate crowd.



During Are We the Waiting, Billie took a Japanese flag from the crowd, held it up and then draped it over his shoulders. Seeing that so close was as surreal as seeing him hold the Indonesian flag. The ‘starry nights, city lights’ were the lights of Yokohama and the ‘dirty town burning down in my dreams’ was wherever wasn’t there. I must have looked as emotional as I felt, because a crew member very kindly gave me a guitar pick.



‘Oh, Tokyo!’ Billie screamed in Letterbomb, ‘You are so beautiful! I love you! I love you so much! We haven’t been here in so long! It’s been so long since we’ve been to Tokyo, but we are here now! We are here together! Tonight is so special. Every day, we gotta celebrate that we are alive. There is so much corruption going on in the world right now. There’s so many distractions. There’s so much hate, but not here. Not here. Tonight in Tokyo, tonight is about love and joy! I just want to be happy! I want to be with my friends! And my family! And I wanna take care of each other, right now!’

And after shouting ‘hey-oh,’ he said, ‘show me.’ The crowd echoed ‘hey-ohhhhh,’ again and again as that one united voice, until it was so loud I could feel it in my chest. That isn’t something unique to this particular show. Yet something about that moment was ethereal, a spiritual experience that my skin is still tingling at now. I hardly had room to breathe, let alone get my feet off the floor, but as Billie sang ‘where will all the martyrs go…’ over the crowd still echoing ‘hey-oh,’ then the band burst back into the song, I jumped and waved along with everyone around me until I was dizzy.



It is yet again almost impossible to pick a highlight when every moment was a highlight, but if I really had to, it would be Bobby Sox again. The show was ending, but I almost couldn’t be sad about it because euphoria had sank so deep into my bones that I knew I’d be sparkling inside for at least a few more hours.

I decided to record Good Riddance for my mum. The band waved, Tré threw out some drumsticks, and I assumed they’d all cleared off. I was so busy putting my phone away that I almost completely missed Billie running out to the end of the catwalk and laying down right in front of me. When I finally looked up, he was staring at me. Then he giggled and ran off stage. The euphoria had clearly caught him, too.



The girl next to me got a setlist! She totally deserved it. We found the rest of our friends and I grinned and said, ‘that was the best Japanese show, hands down.’ We took a group photo and on the way out, we saw a guy in a shirt from the 2009 show at the Akasaka Blitz and a lady in a Mike mask and matching orange jumpsuit. I finally met GDC member Ritz who had been waiting to see Green Day for many, many years. He and his lovely wife came all the way from India. Fans from all over the world and every corner of Japan filled a British pub near Yokohama Station, where they played nothing but Green Day, like Dookie’s Pizza.





My tickets for the final show were paper ones from the international ticketing website, so I took the train to Shinjuku to hand my mum’s ticket over to the buyer, a Mexican fan living in Japan. There, I met Emily and a Scottish fan, Jenny – who got onstage at my favourite Saviors Tour show in Glasgow! – and we spotted Mt. Fuji from the free observation deck at the Metropolitan Government Building. We met the other European fans at the venue and headed to the queue together. The ticket numbers from the international site were all over 2900, but we wanted to get there for doors anyway, just in case, and it was worth it. We made it into the central pen, between Jason and the screen. One of my friends got shoved onto the barrier like I did the previous night. I was about third row, but I actually had a better view than I did in Nagoya.

I watched Billie run onstage in his red shirt with a scrambled cocktail of emotions – happiness, obviously, but sadness because it was the last show and my mum hadn’t made it. For the first few songs, my feet had no contact with the ground, I temporarily lost my friends, and I was singing into someone’s sweaty back, but then I had space to jump more than I knew I physically could – especially considering that my ribs were definitely bruised for the first time since 2017. We all shared bright smiles with each other and the Japanese fans around us. The vibe was amazing; just euphoria and that unity I keep going on about. We were all jumping, singing, waving and screaming.



I recorded Strange Days Are Here to Stay, since I’d been lucky enough to hear it once already and I had to share something with my mum. Everyone thought Strange Days and Revolution Radio were the last of the deep cuts, but then they played Coma City! It sounded incredible and it was perfect for that moment in time.



Billie was almost right in front of us when he ran over during the instrumental part in Letterbomb. In his speech, he said, ‘How do you feel right now? I feel wonderful! You make me feel so happy! That’s what this is all about! Sharing this together! We are here because of music! Music is magic! It’s something you can’t hold. It’s something you can’t see. But it’s something you can feel in your heart. You can feel it in your souls. Right now we are with our family. And we are with our friends. And we make new friends. And Japan, you are all my friends because this is a celebration!’ And I couldn’t agree more. The crowd echoing ‘hey-oh’ in response to Billie asking ‘show me’ was just as ethereal as it was the night before. When the band burst back into the song again, I wasn’t even watching; I was just jumping like my life depended on it, as were many others around me. We were crashing into each other, smiling and laughing as we threw our arms in the air and screamed every word. Why would I keep going to see the same band over and over? Why bother saving my minimum wage to fly out Asia when I can see Green Day in England? That’s why. Because I’d heard Letterbomb many, many times, but it was still as magical as it was the first time – if not more so with all those memories stacked up and clinging to every lyric. I could say the same about Jesus of Suburbia, looking around as I waved both arms along with 25,000+ others.

I spoke to a few people who’d never seen Green Day before and they were dreading a fan being invited to play Good Riddance because they wanted to hear Billie play it. In this instance, I don’t think anyone could have been disappointed because the moment was so cute and emotional. The Japanese ladies next to me squealed and exclaimed ‘kawaii!’ I had to agree.



And then it was over. I said goodbye to all my lovely friends, new and old, from around the world and returned to my hostel to get some much-needed sleep. I’d changed my post-Green Day itinerary completely since my mum wasn’t there and I had no idea what I was doing, but I tried to make the most of it and I did. I kept looking at my photos from the shows, especially the ones of Billie holding the flags. I will definitely always remember that time I ‘went to Jakarta just to see Green Day’ and all the magic that followed.

Since I often conclude these recaps with lyrics that sum them up:

'Dear mother, can you hear me laughing? ... For some strange reason it's now feeling like my home and I'm never gonna go.'