Boom, boom, boom

recydrate 2008

What with the festival season being well underway and my thus far being a bystander to all the carefully fenced frivolities, I’ve made the rather spur of the moment decision to buy a ticket for the Boomtown Fair, formerly known as Recydrate the West.

Last year me and my brother made the epic journey from Norfolk over to Bristol, then on into the heart of Wales in an overloaded Ford Ka. As any festival-goer will blub on about if you ask them, a music festival is a memorable experience, partly due to the close grouping of so many half-starved, over-tired, drugged-up ‘young people’ into fields. Everyone has there own tales of festival survival of when the going got really tough, when the metaphorical port-a-loo of fate was overflowing with the excrement of early morning desperation. These stories are as much a part of the fun as the actual bands themselves. I’ll never forget (I’m scared by the experience) of staying up the whole night at Reading making sure no-one tried to set fire to our tents. Great times.

Obviously I can’t freaking wait for a new adventure, a mere week away!

Actually, I’d better go find my tent. And my wellies. And my festival hat.


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