Friday morning I was up early, rucksack packed and on my way to the train station. I didn’t realise how much my rucksack weighed until I put it on my back but since I only had that I figured it would be ok. I amused myself on the train up to Wolverhampton by playing spot all the people going to V. It wasn’t too hard. When I got to Wolverhampton I proceeded to follow the cute boys with alcohol to the bus station. Upon boarding the bus I attempted to ring Corinne. About five times. Her phone kept going to voicemail so I figured she was probably on the coach on a road flanked by fields, so settled back to eavesdrop on the cute boys conversation instead [and laugh at them asking to get off whilst stuck in traffic, proceeding to line up with their backs to the coach and take a piss in the field]. As the coach reached a road with a yellow sign emblazoned with “Weston Park”, Corinne rang me. Helpfully she didn’t know where she was so I informed her I was by said sign and would wait for her when I arrived. I didn’t bank on being stuck in traffic for an hour before actually arriving! It would appear that See Tickets coaches know a different way and all the cars, taxis, vans and buses know the other way - the way with all the traffic. Eventually after making M ring and entertain me on his lunch hour, Corinne arrived brandishing tickets and a tent.


After getting our bags searched, having the fun of getting our rucksacks back on our backs and then acquiring wristbands, we wandered on in search of a place to pitch our tent. The whole carrying a rucksack thing got boring very quickly. Eventually we found a space in the campsite nearest the arena. Plus it was also within seeing distance of a burger van. Result! Then I pitched the tent whilst Corinne pretended to read the instructions. What actually happened was that I would ask a question and then answer myself before Corinne had a chance to reply.


Airbed blown up and bags thrown in the tent we decided to wander down to the arena and have a look around. Not everything was open so we wandered back to our tent, via the burger van.


We collapsed onto the airbed and decided an early night was in order. Five minutes later we heard voices from all sides of our tent. There was a gap for a tent on one side so we figured someone was pitching theirs there. However, we could hear that there was at least one other tent being pitched. We lay back and listened to the voices. It was entertaining for a while, then we fell asleep. It rained during the night. Rain hitting the outside of a tent you are in is not fun.

Labels: camping, gigs, music, v festival