Saturday, 29 August 2009

The Summer that was...

I thought whilst I'm waiting for my bag to arrive a day late from the airport (read next blog for more information) I would update you on what's been going on. Last time I posted we were all still in the giddy anticipation of the glorious Summer ahead. Oh, how naive we were.

It wasn't even as though we were damned from the start. Summer, like the cruel mistress she can be, tempted us with a half decent May and mainly sunny June.

July came next, which was not a surprise to most people, and with it bad weather. Fortunately a trip to Spain was calling. I had been working hard (or hardly working, it's a fine line) at a local baby food factory all summer. It's kind of fun in the way a rectal examination is, in the sense that when it finishes you're very glad it's over, but apppear to be able to think of nothing else for the next 3 days. I guess that's what happens when you inspect small glass bottles on a conveyor belt for 11 hours... Or someone puts their finger up your bum.

Anyways. Spain. Once a year the small town of Benicassim, about 2hr 30 down the coast from Barcelona, plays host to a now world renownd music festival. We had a few days in Barcelona first, the most eventful of which involved us getting royally ripped for some food on La Rambla. A word to the wise; If you're ever in an orphanage in South America and meet a guy called Micky, tell him to go home. Someone's ruining his restraunts reputaion.

The festival itself was cracking. Although the days mainly involved working our way through a haze of the previous nights gin, and fighting with the locals for a spot in the shade, the nights were well worth it. Musical highlights were definitely Elbow, The Killers and Oasis, who played a near perfect festival set packed with hits. The festival highlight however, has to go to a girl who opened her tent bag and shouted to her friend, "Oh Claudia, all our tent poles have broken into three." You just can't write that stuff.

Home barely brought a moments rest with the next weekend given up to Kendal Calling, the towns biggest event since 'that-one-off-Groundforce-with-no-bra' came and almost took someones eye out. Now held in Lowther Deer Park, actually near Penrith, its grown year by year and is now pretty big. The backdrop of Lakeland fells coupled with the friendly and personal size of the festival gave a very different feel, and were an obvious and logical excuse for this...

Frank Turner was an obvious highlight as ever, with a shockingly good DJ set from Craig Charles topping off the weekend. It's stuff like that you don't get at other festivals; Coronation Street cast members playing funk and soul. And too their detriment too.

The rest of the summer was wasted away in a typical Lake District fashion, with afternoons by the lake and days up whichever mountain we were lost on at the time.

And so, even if the weather turned Britains latest seasonal effort into the summer that never was for most, it was the summer that was for me.

Over and out.