Travel

I don't travel well. Not in the sense of getting sick (unless I get on a boat), but mentally I don't travel well. I start to worry about missing the plane about two days before I set off, and don't calm down until I'm safely at my final destination. Travelling alone is even worse, and I was utterly terrified heading off on my trip last week. Not only was I flying to Barcelona alone, late at night, trying to negotiate the bus, find my hostel, find the coach station, buy a ticket, make sure I got on the right coach etc etc, but I had to do all this with the serious handicap of being me. I speak no Spanish beyond a tentative and poorly pronounced 'Ola', I'm scared of strangers and I have the world's worst sense of direction. Honestly, I once got lost on my way to work. It was a ten minute walk that I had done five days a week for four years, and I got lost. Anyway, I made it through the whole process with remarkable and surprising ease and managed to find the coach station, much to my pride. I was rather intimidated by the idea of navigating the Spanish ticket machine but waded bravely in, and was amazed to find that I understood exactly how to book a ticket to Zaragoza. It wasn't until several pages into the ticket buying process that I realised why I understood it. It was in English.

Honey, I'm home.

Well, I'm home. Did you miss me? I actually got back on Tuesday but, while I've got my internet working at home now, my laptop has decided to have a minor nervous breakdown, so I still don't have much opportunity for updating this. I'll write a few posts today so as not to get reported to blog social services for neglect.

The Nowhere Festival was, of course, absolutely magical. I'm not sure I'm capable of writing about it without sounding absurdly gushy and saccharine, so I'm going to keep it brief. I spent a wonderful week basking in the creativity and fun, and trying not to bask in the sun. It was insanely hot out there, which made for a quieter festival than in previous years. A lot of the things that were scheduled to happen in the day had to be put off or cancelled because everyone was otherwise engaged in minimal-exertion, maximum-cold beer activities. It was still really nice to spend that quiet time in camp with friends though. Night times were as lively as ever, with dancing, cabarets, fire shows and all things nice. I came home filthy, exhausted, mosquito-bitten and a million times happier than I was when I left. I feel far better equipped to deal with the real world now that I've recharged somewhat.

Nowhere - Noclothes

I'm ridiculously excited about heading off to the Nowhere festival in a few weeks, and I'm having to use every scrap of will power I have to prevent myself from buying lots of new clothes with money I don't have. In hindsight, I shouldn't have even gone on Ebay, because as soon as I did I saw a hundred things I wanted. Ooooo look! A floral tutu! Tights with different coloured legs! Harlequin ruffs and faux-fur shrugs and sequin hotpants! Actually, it's probably not a good idea for me to wear hotpants anyway, but that's beside the point. I want exciting and exotic new clothes in which to prance around the desert! Never mind. I'm sure digging through the mountains of clothes in my house will turn up many, many items that I'd forgotten I owned. That's almost as good as having new stuff.