Delegating

The Noisy People from Bath dropped by on the way back from the coast and I got them cutting up melons for supper.

Despite my intentions to not get to bed after midnight, the pull of the Square on a festival night was too strong and we ended up pushing through the mélée under la Halle where a DJ in an Ali G hat and sunglasses was 'psspsshhpsshhhing' into a red corded telephone surrounded by giant stuffed tigers and high voltage speakers. The air hung heavy with weed, spilt beer and river washed bodies and the sticky tiles sucked at our soles. The mélée was made up of Festival people and Mirapiciens.  The former were closed eyed and swaying in rapture, the latter were bemused; weed is obviously a prerequisite for appreciating provincial techno and there must have been plenty of it exchanging hands between the tents down by the river.

We got home at 3 a.m

Someone stole all the stuffed tigers.