xvanitykillsx: Anybody who has ever been to a music festival will be able to tell you that there’s...

xvanitykillsx:

Anybody who has ever been to a music festival will be able to tell you that there’s a lot of things that can kill your festival buzz.

 

It starts with actually getting to the festival site. Most of you don’t live close to the festival premises, so either you get there by public transport or you drive there yourself. Either way, you’re fucked! Should you consider option one: be prepared for overly crowded, noisy trains and busses with little to no room to store your way to heavily packed backpack, your stuffed cooler and that four cases of beer you insisted on taking with you because you might get thirsty along the way. Option two, driving yourself, mostly means traffic jams and having to park two kilometers from the actual camping site which includes having to walk that distance with all of the above mentioned items.

 

When you finally arrive at the camping site, all damp, the search for a good spot begins. You want to make sure you’re not too far away from the sanitary block but also not too close. You don’t want to be too near to the lampposts because that will keep you from getting some shut eye (nobody actually sleeps on a festival, they rest their eyes), nor do you want to be too far away because, obviously, you still want to find your way back. Also, you do want to stay away from the outer border, because that’s where tents get either trashed, peed on or invaded by drunk people who are to wasted to get to their own.

 

You a reasonably good spot, or what you think is a reasonably good spot and start pitching up your tent. If you are lucky, you (or your mom) bought one of those easy set up tents that conveniently unfold themselves when you get them out of the bag. Otherwise, you match all the right pieces together until you have something that more or less looks like it could keep a person sheltered for a couple of days. IKEA for dummies. And then, as soon as you have your little mattress unrolled, your sleeping bag unfolded and your stuff in your tent… The Neighbors. You kiss your already short nights goodbye because they will be loud and rude and drunk before the festival has even started.

 

At the festival site there’s just too many people. They’re queuing up at portable toilets, food stalls, the ATM machine. They are trying to push their way through the crowd while meanwhile spilling their drinks on you and stepping on your toes and you can feel their sweaty bodies touching you. You could swear they are doing it on purpose. You promise yourself this is the last year you’ve bought tickets to this madness, they were way overpriced anyway.

 

However… by the time you get back home and people ask you how it has been, you only remember how the singer of your favorite band looked at you while singing one of your favorite songs, and that conversation you had with that cute boy or girl standing next to you waiting for the Foo Fighters to come on stage. And you know: next year will be even better.

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