Did I mention Mandy and I had a music festival to go to? Perhaps I should have, cos we did. With Portishead, Flaming Lips and The National on the billing, it was not something I wanted to miss, even if it meant a frantic dash to Sydney afterwards.
With all my things packed up in the morning, we headed over to Matheus’ house and met up with our fellow festival-goers. For reasons I still don’t 100% understand we took a stretched limo to the festival – apparently, between us it was cheaper than getting the bus(!). Yes, I’ve finally become all my worst nightmares of middle-class festival goers skilfully lampooned here by Adam Buxton:
But the music… ah, the music. With the likes of Mercury Rev, The Family Stone and TV On The Radio to watch whilst whiling away the afternoon, not a cloud in the sky and a good bunch of fellow festival-goers I couldn’t be happier. And then, all too soon, it was all over.
It was time to race to Sydney.