Hola, dear readers. I know you have all been waiting with bated breath for the next installment of the Wilderness Blog Post.
Well...ta-da! Here we are...nearly a month later. My bad.
But, seriously - busy, busy life yada yada I know, dear readers, you have heard it all before. So let us get right back in to the story.
Saturday
(In which I forgot to mention that we had tried to buy ear plugs for Ker-Bear from the many vendors around the festival only to be told they were all sold out. But I did have some cotton wool pads so KB was able to stuff those in her ears to at least muffle some of the noise.)
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| Accurate representation of how cute the Ker-Bear is. Even in the mornings. |
On Saturday, we woke up bright and early to go and do mass morning yoga.
After a breakfast of tinned beans and sausages (actually the perfect wake up call), we toddled off to yoga with a change of clothes in our bags.
And then dynamic yoga occurred.
Which was amazing.
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| See? Looks amazing. |
Apart from the fact that it was in the blazing sun and we hadn't drunk anything bar our now requisite cup of tea.
So by the end of it, KB felt faint and I was crying again.
(Don't know what is wrong with me so don't even bother asking #totesemosh #noimnotpregnantgrandma).
After a quick BubbleTea:
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| Seriously yum. |
We decided what to do for the day which included getting a Moroccan lamb wrap, wild swimming and going to a talk on the meaning of dreams.
And did not include me dashing off to the Portaloo every five minutes to try and push a demon out of me (#againnotpregnantgrandma).
Regardless, we did all of the above.
Which was made worse by the fact that I was wearing a crop top (I know, I am Down With The Kiddywinks) and I was hideously bloated during my 24 hour ordeal (#shitmaybeiampregnant).
Thankfully, Wilderness is an upmarket kind of festival and there were portaloos everywhere with toilet paper in abundance and they were emptied regularly. Which, I think I speak for everyone here, we were all grateful for.
In any event (and moving away from the Portaloos (for a minute at least)) I went wild swimming in the lake which was awesome but freezing! And I put my hair up because I am now in Swimming Mum Mode (#AGAINGRANDMA) whereby I do not want to get my hair all wet.
This plan was foiled by the fact that I got all excited and cannon balled into the lake completing forgetting that water is liquid and can therefore be displaced by me and my giant, distended belly.
So, of course, I instantly went completely under the water and dropped like a stone. When, really, I should have been quite buoyant given all that gas....#tmi.
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| #wildswimming |
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What we found was the Odditorium which was indulging in a discussion on the meaning of dreams before going on to explore The Haunted Moustache by Dr Bramwell and an enlightening talk entitled 'Big Willies' which we were assured would have visual aids.
We didn't hang around to find out.
Instead, the foreboding, grey cubicles were calling me name once more so off we trundled towards the tent to have dinner and buy Imodium.
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| My dear, dear friends. |
After taking the recommended dose (combination of counter assistant in a plarmacy + lawyer = religiously reading the instructions and following them to the letter), I was feeling much better.
Which was a very good thing because Ker-Bear had started to become quite concerned and kept suggesting I think about driving home.
But I couldn't bear the thought of leaving on our final evening without experiencing as much of the festival as possible. So I pulled my big girl pants on (or off rather) and let out the squeakiest, longest symphony of flatulence I have ever had the ultimate pleasure of experiencing.
And it was pleasurable, let me tell you dear readers. My poor bloated stomach was quite relieved.
(Not so sure the same could be said for the poor chap next door. Definitely heard muffled laughter and then a hurried escape from the pod beside me.)
In any event, I was feeling much better and that meant that we had to Go Full Festival.
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(Terrifying, non?)
In any event, I usually make good, rational decisions. So it is with something akin to chagrin that I must report that, despite The Unpleasantness of earlier, Ker-bear and I headed into the festival intent on finding Tequila town and sampling the goods therein.
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| Tequila Town |
Following a quick tequila, we wandered off to try and find The Valley which was a mystical area we had heard of but never been privy to. After finding several dead ends and being told to turn around lots, we thought it would be better to get good seats for the Carnival extravaganza which was due to start at 9pm.
9pm came and went, dear readers.
Much like the feeling in my buttocks from sitting cross legged on the floor.
After what felt like ages (but had only really been about 45 minutes - which is a long time for old birds like us to sit cross legged) the circus started.
No silly captions because the photos speak for themselves.
It was incredible and Ker-Bear and I pretty much sat there with our mouths open for the entire performance.
So we were somewhat pumped to go and find The Valley as this would be the perfect way to end our weekend.
We queued up to get in to The Valley (after finally locating the entrance) and stumbled into a bunch of teenagers in booty shorts who all clearly liked the same weed scented perfume.
There were loads of people, the music was pounding, the lights were strobing.
And we promptly left after about 5 minutes.
Ain't nobody over the age of 21 got time for that.
Off we went to bed.
Sunday
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
That is the noise our dear camp mates woke up to at about 7.30am on Sunday morning.
That noise was us dismantling our tent/camp beds and lobbing all our metal poles together being passive aggressive due to the fact that the Camp Horrors had been making noise until about half 6. This noise consisted mainly of screaming into each others' faces and finding this hysterical (well, from what I could gather anyway. In no way were drugs involved. I'm like... 90% sure.)
This plan was genius because the sun was back out in full force and everyone was just lying about outside their tents to try and get out of the heat.
Apart from one girl which I was actually growing concerned for until Ker-Bear informed me that she was breathing so I shouldn't worry.
The genius plan was somewhat foiled when one of the main offenders came over and offered to help us pack up whilst asking us about our weekend.
#awkward
We made a hasty exit and stopped off for McDonalds for breakfast which consisted of 20 chicken McNuggets for me.
...which I then re-heated and ate three days later.
Lucky I still had some of that Imodium left over!
And thus ends the tale of Wilderness Festival 2016.
After three sleepless nights, bloated stomachs, extended stays in Portaloos and the best damn Moroccan lamb wrap I've ever had, I will be doing it all over again in 2017.
#wilderness17
&&Fin.
9pm came and went, dear readers.
Much like the feeling in my buttocks from sitting cross legged on the floor.
After what felt like ages (but had only really been about 45 minutes - which is a long time for old birds like us to sit cross legged) the circus started.
No silly captions because the photos speak for themselves.
It was incredible and Ker-Bear and I pretty much sat there with our mouths open for the entire performance.
So we were somewhat pumped to go and find The Valley as this would be the perfect way to end our weekend.
We queued up to get in to The Valley (after finally locating the entrance) and stumbled into a bunch of teenagers in booty shorts who all clearly liked the same weed scented perfume.
There were loads of people, the music was pounding, the lights were strobing.
And we promptly left after about 5 minutes.
Ain't nobody over the age of 21 got time for that.
Off we went to bed.
Sunday
CLANG. CLANG. CLANG.
That is the noise our dear camp mates woke up to at about 7.30am on Sunday morning.
That noise was us dismantling our tent/camp beds and lobbing all our metal poles together being passive aggressive due to the fact that the Camp Horrors had been making noise until about half 6. This noise consisted mainly of screaming into each others' faces and finding this hysterical (well, from what I could gather anyway. In no way were drugs involved. I'm like... 90% sure.)
This plan was genius because the sun was back out in full force and everyone was just lying about outside their tents to try and get out of the heat.
Apart from one girl which I was actually growing concerned for until Ker-Bear informed me that she was breathing so I shouldn't worry.
The genius plan was somewhat foiled when one of the main offenders came over and offered to help us pack up whilst asking us about our weekend.
#awkward
We made a hasty exit and stopped off for McDonalds for breakfast which consisted of 20 chicken McNuggets for me.
...which I then re-heated and ate three days later.
Lucky I still had some of that Imodium left over!
And thus ends the tale of Wilderness Festival 2016.
After three sleepless nights, bloated stomachs, extended stays in Portaloos and the best damn Moroccan lamb wrap I've ever had, I will be doing it all over again in 2017.
#wilderness17
&&Fin.
