Gifts

We did Ynot Festival 2023. This was not without its trials. Though in many ways that is the drunken wander of festival life. You get great bands but baaaaaaad toilets. You find beautiful people but endure god awful sleep. This is expected, and, for the love of music, you take it in your mud splattered stride. Yet Ynot 2023 took the lows to a new height. We had flooded toilets and blocked showers in the laughably named VIP camping area. The app did not work so we struggled to straddle the band intinary. The campsite wasn't a mile from the entrance so we paid for an overpriced tractor ride for absolutely no reason.  We lost three mats (on the pointless tractor ride in) and one anorak (for a reason unknown).

I have one picture of Simon and Amber playing mini golf. Usually I'd take many fun-filled photos but this is tricky when the fun is infrequent and you can't charge your phone. I missed James, Royal Blood, The Charlatans, Paul Weller, Kasbian and Faithless DJ set. However I did see Beans on Toast, The Pigeon Detectives, Reytons, Lime Garden and Mystery Jets. Now I write it down, I really didn't get the bands in. In my youth that simply would not happen.  I'd stand in pain to watch good music.  Now I'm middle-aged so comfort has taken over (in so far as you can be comfortable at a festival).  Also I got ill, not festivalitus (as it's lovingly named) but actually ill ill. And so it was that we threw in the towel one day early.

Tuesday marked day one of our trip to Devon. The train was an hour late but that's pretty standard these days. The walk from the station to the hotel was longer than Google implied. Moreover Google seemed to think that we were Bear Grylls or David Bellamy. I mean why wouldn't we want to stomp through a hedge, nettles and traverse a street sign to reach our hotel?

Despite Google's confusing instructions, we arrived at our destination.  A little tired and a lot hot but salvation, relaxation awaited. Sadly fate had other ideas. The Holiday Inn had cancelled our booking but entirely failed to share this joyous happening with us. Furthermore it was fully booked. Naturally we were a somewhat displeased with the news. 

The reception chap did manage to find us one night with another hotel in their chain of evil. Then we filled the remaining four nights of our holiday with a different hotel chain.

As I write, we can't yet check in so we're wandering around beautiful Exeter with our luggage.  Yet we are here.  We're dryish.  We've had unexpected breakfast-included. We were gifted with shiny new toothbrushes and teeny tiny toothpastes.

Right now the Great British weather is weaving its weird magic: the rain dances in then almost immediately out again, the sun has its hat on (but it's a damp, lopsided straw hat, that should only ever see the inside of a long-forgotten-cupboard). I'm sure rainbows are on route, though as yet, I haven't spotted one.

Life much like festivals are filled with moments that test us and moments that treat us. The trick is not allowing the rough to permetate the smooth. If we can be with what is, as each moment passes then we live more and suffer less. Certainly it's a damn challenge on a shitty festival toilet but it's a breeze when waving happy hands to momentous music.

So here's to the moments.  Each and every one of them is a gift worth cherishing.