Oops, sorry. Anyway, I've just been to a music festival called Lowlands (I also went two years ago: this happened). It was in Holland. Got to Amsterdam on Wednesday and proceeded directly to a pub called The Flying Dutchman, run by a crazy American. Some hours later I was playing a drunken game of darts. I don't know where.
On Thursday morning, we all arrived at Lelystad Station, which is about 45 minutes on the train from 'Dam. It was pouring with rain. Raks, Sarah and I sat in silence in our taxi to the festival site, as the hostile weather lashed the windscreen. I was thinking things like, "Why didn't I bring an umbrella?", "Why didn't I bring bin bags?" and "I want to go home." I also had a hangover from the previous night's shenanigans; this didn't help. In fact, it was all so terrible, I'm going to slip into haiku.
We unpacked our stuff
Then walked. We got to the gate
And started to wait.
We queued, gloomily.
The rain cleared; everyone cheered.
It started again.
Well eventually the bastards in charge opened the gates and we all stampeded through. As there were several Lowlands veterans among our number, the tent-pitching location tactics were not a problem – and we had the pick of the park. Wooooooo. Lucky, too, because it gets pretty rammed in there. And I can prove it!
See? But with tents up, the bad part – queuing and rain – was over. The next morning we went into the festival proper. First things first: we ate. Here's a tray of demolished chicken.
The Lowlands River God raised his hands in anguish from the lake where he lives, angry, I think, because we ate his sacred chicken. But the gentle rain forced him back.
What happened next? Well then I saw Jack Penate, Kate Nash, Editors, Kasabian, Eagles of Death Metal, Damien Rice, The Killers, The Rifles, The Black Seeds, The View, CSS, M.I.A., The Enemy, New Young Pony Club, Loney, dear, The Shins, Kings of Leon, The Pigeon Detectives, Arcade Fire and Groove Armada. Were they good? They were. (Except The Rifles, who weren't.)
Now I'm home, it's strange. I feel like I'm not quite here, but also that none of the above actually happened. Dislocated, you might say. Ah well, back to work.