The Peryls of Festivals

Now its mid week and my post-festival mind-fog is clearing, it feels appropriate to inform the world of our weekend of debauchery at Secret Garden Party.  The party consisted of me, Wes, Mr. B.P, my lovely sister (who has a secondary role as Wes’s girlfriend and Wes’s mate…newsman Kev.

Wes almost didn’t make it in as he was (unjustly) indicated by a sniffer dog when entering the festival and was so incensed that he insisted on the police doing a thorough search.  They did. He was a bit ratty afterwards and insisted on carrying a cushion around with him for the rest of the festival, but he’s over it now.

So what was it like?  Who did we see?  Where did we go?  To my mind listening to the details of someone else’s festival experience is probably akin to hearing about someone else’s dream so to save you from boredom, I’ve made you a little list of highlights…

Kicking the teenagers’ butts in a music quiz.

Swimming in a lake at 7.30 in the morning with a massive hangover and then not having a hangover anymore.

Wes going down a massive waterslide in a red top hat and swimming trunks.

Mr. B.P going down a massive waterslide like superman and leg sweeping a girl who was stood at the bottom – bloody nose for him, sprained wrist for her.

Naked trampolining – yes we actually did that and no, I haven’t got black eyes

Lying in a coffin while those present hurled insults at me before I was resurrected-such fun!

Having a Pilates-off with Wes while wasted and eating meze.

Properly scaring people while dressed as plague doctors before high fiving them and making them feel better.

Following the Faun on Sunday morning in a mad fusion of ballet and big gay raving in wellies-the best dance class I’ve ever been to!

Oh, and we saw a few bands…