Love and peace, man

I know this is borderline ridiculous. Or actually, it's just plain ridiculous. It's been way too long since my last post and if you are reading this post now and I haven't scared you away yet with my prolonged absence, you deserve a medal for loyalty. Which of course I won't give you, because, let's face it, you're here out of your own free will and not because of me. Because you're hoping you might get something out of this- maybe some raunchy story or at least a bit of a laugh. Unfortunately, I have to disappoint you. There are no raunchy stories, at least none that I want to share with you, and I'm not feeling particularly funny either. Sorry guys.

Anyway. Seeing that sadly you will have to miss out on witty stories today, or anything of substance for that matter, I thought I'd share at least some photos from my week at the music festival in Woodford with you. It was absolutely amazing. Two of my best friends and me and one week of concerts, music, music, music, dance, thousands of people, chai tea, drums, sunglasses, bare shoulders, spontaneous laughs with friends and strangers, rainbow coloured headscarves, sandals, sun, cold beer, cold showers, falafel rolls, laying in the grass, running into old friends, talking to strangers, bright stars, dancing in the rain, rum and coke out of cans, peace and love, long skirts, happy faces, surprises, blueberry pancakes and soy lattes, group hugs, comedy nights, market stalls, straw hats, coloured lights in the forrest, guitars, kisses, smiles, drums, political discussions, art, dance workshops and inspiration. It's overwhelming. In a good way.

My absolute favourite moment of the festival was the three minutes of silence, when at 11.30pm on New Year's Eve the whole festival goes silent for three minutes. We were up at the amphi theater with another about fifteen thousand people. They hand out candles to everyone and spread the flame from the front up the hills, until the whole area is lit up with thousands of little lights. When the bell goes on, everyone goes completely silent. Nobody moves. And as everything goes quiet, the air starts to buzz with energy. You just sit there with goose bumps and quietly look around. It's like the world stops.

Paula and me worked for the radio, as I have been for the last two festivals before that, and even the work is amazing. We do sound recording, interview musicians, do vox pops, one meeting a day and a little bit of studio work. I love it. Woodford is like a little world of its own. After seven days, it's hard to go back to reality. But we managed. We're pretty tough.



Having a drink in our raincoats in one of the bars. Out of plastic cups. Classy.


A couple of kids are getting creative.


Michelle and me are dancing our ass off at the Batacuda Sound Machine concert- a Brazilian-inspired ten man band that gets everyone shakin' their hips like there's no tomorrow.


I need a bit of me time- I might just lay on this hill and stare into the sky for a while.


One of the highlights of the festival- the Xavier Rudd concert at the amphi theater. A one-man band that blows your mind and thousands of people dancing from the stage all the way up the hills under the skies. Unforgettable.



My partners in crime.


Someone's sponaneous art creation.


New Year's Eve. We felt it was our duty to go a little bit crrrrrazy. What a blast we had!


That's how my hair looked after one week of letting it go a bit crazy. I think I would look good as a rastafari too. It's not too far off.