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| Sigh |
9 Sep 2008 13:28:59 GMT |
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Bestival was a complete and total wash-out. For me, anyway.
We all arrived in high spirirts, despite the weather looking ominous from the start. After pitching up (something Neil had done for me on account of him arriving a day earlier), we decided to go get food and have a look around. Long story short: it started pissing it down, we all got soaked, my tent got flooded (thank god for the inflatable mattress) and most of the site was ankle-deep in mud. The media keep raving about how awesome the whole show was, but don't believe them. Journos are lying cunts at the best of times and anyway they all had luxurious accomodation to stay in so it's not like they were really there. The real heroes were Mike, Josh and Neil who braved the fierce elements (and bronchial pneumonia) to listen to their favourite bands.
If that wasn't bad enough, i received a phonecall from my neighbour informing me that water was leaking through the electrics in his ceiling. This meant i had to bail out by 9pm on the first night and return to London as no-one else was around to check on my flat. Josh and Neil helped me through this, and Josh even crossed over onto the mainland with me to ensure i had a backup plan in case i missed the last train. I didn't, and got home to a perfectly dry flat at around 2am in the morning (although i did hear dripping in the apartment next to mine, so no prizes for guessing where that puddle ended up).
Had the weather been more jovial like last year, i would have toyed with the idea of returning. But as i awoke the next morning to the sound of rain lashing the windows and started to unpack my damp clothes, i realised that the only thing i really like about festivals is chilling out on the grass and enjoying the scene. Neil, Scouse and Josh are all party people when it comes to live music - they love their artists. Next time (if there is one) i think i'll bring more water-resistant attire.
Still, it was an interest experience. For one thing, watching thirty thousand people stick with the festival out of sheer bloddymindedness was heartwarming. The rain didn't destroy all the spirit of the festivities (although a lot of people did tend to just stand around wondering what their next move would be). I would have liked to have been there when fellow Camdenite Amy Winehouse got booed off stage. I also got to network a little on the way back with various people who had needed to leave abruptly along with myself.
I'm just wondering if Scouse, Neil and Josh got back safely....
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| Security Clearance: 5 |
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