Putting up the tent, Sam and Evie smiled at each other. They felt like naughty teenagers. It was to be their first music festival. Both in their forties, they had always wanted to go but life had always got in the way. With the twins off on a school trip for a week their time had come. The Hadfield music festival happened to fall at that time.
They had booked a quiet field that overlooked the stage area and had showers and toilets. The weather looked fine, so excitement was bubbling. Wandering around the main area a cacophony of sound and smells assaulted their senses; so much choice and so many people. Although they did notice that a majority of the crowd were quite young, they were determined to enjoy the experience.
The bands started playing, they wandered around getting a taste for each brand of music; some they enjoyed, others not so much. One of their favourite bands was due to play the next night, so they settled for a takeaway and returned to their tent for a reasonably early night.
Next morning, they wandered over to the shower block only to be met with an enormous queue, an hour’s wait to use them. They were tempted to shower together to save time. The state of them left a lot to be desired, the toilet block stank. Both were pleased to be camping further up the field away from it.
Wandering around for most of the day, a fog of cannabis slowly descended on the field. Evie wondered if they might get high. It seemed to be the norm as no one seemed bothered and there was very little security. As the day wore on there was the occasional scuffle but generally everyone was relaxed. At last, their favourite band came on to rapturous applause. Sam was surprised that the youngsters even knew the songs as they were popular when he was young. They sang and danced along. Tired and happy they returned to their tent.
Cuddled up, they drifted off to sleep, only to be woken by a tremendous storm. Thunder and lightning lashing down with rain, water seeping through the canvas and up under the ground sheet. Peering out of the tent, they saw chaos: tents collapsing, torrents of water sweeping down the hill. Tents at the bottom were literally floating. The strangest thing was a lot of people were dancing around in the buff, laughing, plastered in mud and grass.
Come daylight the storm abated. Looking at each other, bedraggled and tired, they decided to head off home. They were really too old to deal with this. Packing up what they could, they tramped back to the car and headed home.
Opening their front door Sam sighed – Home Sweet Home – but something ticked off their bucket list. Maybe next time they’d just go abroad.
