Friday 24th July 2009 (late evening)
First proper work day, and I only got five hours sleep, so not the brightest
fox in the box this morning.
Lengthy preparation, including fiddling around to get all the lights on my
belt: It's too lengthy a procedure to repeat every morning, so I'll keep my
belt like it for the weekend.
Off, eventually, to the festival, missing both immedjate onward connections,
including the first one just outside my office.
Wary of bad Orange reception in the area, prebooked a taxi.
Notified client by SMS, got into the festival after yet another bus miss 'n'
taxishare, leaving a trail of sniggering [in bemusement] marshals in my wake,
carrying all the equipment & spares in, in one go.
Got up on the stilts, causing a bit of a stir... Managed to "pop up" from a
kneeling position on one of Chez Nous' circular benches, discovering along
the way that the table on top rotates.
Bocked around into the "opening area", the bit with the food shops in between
the internal gate from the campsites and the musical area across the bridge,
for a bit, then onwards across the river into the main crowd-milling area.
Intruded into the big marquee; "The 6X Main Stage", which was bopping along
to Che Sudaka, a Spanish-Mexican rock band.
Back into the opening area, and a well-needed break.
Off the stilts, timed how long it takes to get back to Gate 3 from CN
(5 minutes instead of a quarter of an hour), and where Orange mobile
reception is good. It's possible at Gate 3, the inner part, and very good
only halfway up the hill, labelled "B2 Camping". CN Had earlier apparently
resorted to driving off site to get a signal.
Back to CN for my evening shift.
There's so much to remember to do; I'll print out this blog page and take it
with me.
Shooed away half a dozen marshals so I could get across the bridge down the
centre. They grumbled, but they moved, marshalling each other along the way.
I feel I didn't explained this well enough: It's too dangerous for me to go
along the edges, because the railings are too low for me; one slip and I
could end up in the drink. Fortunately, the narrower supporting bridges have
railing high enough for me to hang onto them without stooping, as I clump
over. 'Impossible to tip-toe over metal-bottomed bridges, whereas the
concrete and mud surfaces of the rest of the place muffle my movements.
Second session, into the big marquee where there was a singing musician
(either Keith Donnelly or
Adrian Edmondson and the Bad Shepherds) playing
musical bumps with
a selection of people independently in animal costume. The
penguin won, with the leprechaun a close second.
Then he started up a song "rocket boot man". 'Can't think why.
Eight foot high, plastered in advertising and festooned in flashing lights,
edging into an arena lightly packed with est. 12,500 people. And then
surrounded by people in animal costume, congratulating
me. I used to
be shy, youknow. I will have to get someone to let me rest on their shoulder
again tomorrow in here, but for a longer time, at least one song's worth.
Sat on the Bar in the marquee adjacent to the Main Stage.
Saw two short clowns on tall plastering stilts, with the overall effect
slightly above my height, and a head over. The higher-up one had comedy feet
on his stilts, whether they gave him even more stability or were entirely for
show, never became clear, because they refused to talk to me: 'Not very
sociable, for clowns.
'Not allowed in the actual teeny backstage area, but we traders have one of
our own which is just as big; stored equipment there during my break. 'Was
able to see over [enough to lean on] the teeny 6.5' fence into the Main
Stage's backstage area, where very little was going on: Dressing room
[cabin], dining room [tent], some stage crew hanging around, empty space.
The sun had dried out the mud enough for me to go uphill abit, until I
realised I was also moving away from the crowds, so I doubled back. Anyways,
up steep slopes on tarmac is one thing, bumpy grass is quite another, with
particular worry for going down again. Still it seemed to go quite well. I'll
look for dry gentle slopes tomorrow.
Got a business enquiry from a Swindon group of companies, centring on a
another caterer, Doctor Sweetsmoke. 'May have
accidentally quoted them on the old, low work price. Ooops. But they want me
to work Saturdays, and I usually charge extra for then anyway, so I think I
can rescue it.
Only able to do 4 hours in total, so I'll have to do an extra hour tomorrow:
'Started later than intended, can't miss the return train, etc.
'Will haveta remember to take lots of photos & videos of the event, on my
mobile, over the weekend.
Chez Nous let me store my boards, cleaning equipment, and a lot of my safety
equipment in one of their locked trucks. Not sure where they're sleeping
overnight. ['Found out later it
is on-site, by their restaurant,
afterall.]
The second batch of the new-version tyresocks stayed on, and the grass / mud
/ metal road had hardly given any wear, so no service required tonight!
Waited at Gate 3 for my taxi, which was flagged down by the marshals and
directed to the internal pickup point (a sort of turning circle cum layby in
the roadway).
Timed how long the taxi takes to get from the festival to the station:
Two minutes. I will adjust my schedule accordingly.
Saturday 25th July 2009 (morning)
Slept overnight in the office, unintentionally. Six hours' sleep, though.
(About to leave for home, didn't quite make it, woke up six hours later on
the carpet, then it was time to straight back to Trowbridge again -
aarrrrgh!)
I'll have to buy insoles: I've been wearing these boots too long now.
A minilunch breakfast to start the day well, bits of this blog, check rail
data, insoles, day planning, and out... That's the plan.
I may have to have a short nap before going off to work today - just to see
me through.
Saturday 25th July 2009 (late evening)
Amazingly, wide awake by the end of the day (and the middle, too).
Managed to get up to speed, putting in a full 5 hours and the extra 6th I
didn't get done Friday.
Photographer of yesterday came up to me to get my name & website for "the
local paper." (There are several local papers.) [Probably The Trowbridge
News, aka the Wiltshire Times, preview edition already out, new edition out
Friday 31st July.]
Caught the shuttlebus out [to the festival] this time, and it did stop at the
Platform 1 drop point, but didn't go round the Platform 2 afterward.
Checked-in at Chez Nous, got some food, went stiltwalking. Went out to "the
suburbs", or "the commuter belt", as one of the marshals on the outer central
gate put it, got halfway up the hill, before being stopped by a steep bit.
'Got safely down, too.
During my second shift, I got all the way to the top, courtesy of a gentler,
lengthier route, along the car road, the wrong way around the one-way system,
which nobody challenged, doubtless because they don't know if I'm a vehicle
or a pedestrian either. Stiltwalkers make their own rules. 'Get away with
anything on the roads, can stiltwalkers. Tsk, 'dear me, etc.
Picked my way between the tents & caravans, in order to get maximum exposure,
in preference to the roads, although I had to keep some reference to them so
I could line up with the gates and avoid the steeper sections of hill.
"You're not getting paid enough!" several punters shouted at me, although I
am actually earning a handsome rate (plus expenses plus food plus perks plus
staff pass and constant offers of cider) now. They're probably right though -
I can't argue with their reasoning.
Someone (Kevin Hook - there! I remembered someone's name!) invited me to the
Main Stage marquee later in the evening, he recommended
Loudon Wainwright III
of whom he was a fan.
'Made it safely down the hill again, taking a short break at Chez Nous.
The fairies kept to the childrens' and rockers' arenas, on the other side of
the river bridge, and didn't try going up hills etc. But then powerisers are
the off-road type of stilts. I wonder what other types of stilts can go up
hills, steps, etc. The Chinese stilts the faeries use were developed for use
in rice paddies, so they are presumably good on mud and gentle slopes, but as
for hills and steps, I dunno. I got the impression they were only booked for
Arenas 1 & 2, so that was the only place they went. Someone told me the
fairies were booked directly by the festival as performers, and the same ones
have been coming here every year for the last 16 years, rather than being
subcontracted by a trader, like I was.
Someone asked me if I'll be at Sidmouth (apparently in Devon), where Chez
Nous will be next, but no: I've reached my current four-days-in-a-row-limit,
and CN don't want any more advertising help this year, although they've
booked me for Chippenham Folk Festival 2010, and presumably Trowbridge next
year, who knows? Trowbridge VP Festival has a great vibe; I'd like to come
back and dance with the fairies in the dry, maybe carry around a pint of
alcohol-free cider (apple juice?). If I want to go to more festivals this
summer, I'd better simply start advertising to other festival traders (and
other festivals directly) - I can pick and choose my clients, afterall.
It was starting to get dark as I made my way into the Main Stage, which had
high enough flaps for even the fairies to get in, although I don't think they
attempted this, and after some searching, I located Kevin and his partner in
the centre, close to the front. He let me rest [my hand] on his shoulder, and
one of his friends invited me to rest my other hand on his shoulder too.
Loudon W's comic rock show starting warming up, and we were just getting
settled, when someone banged aggressively on the back of my board. I turned
around, and there was this tiny little man challenging me to a fight. Here's
a tip: If you're going to pull and angry face at someone twice your height,
you'll look very silly craning your neck up at the same time, so don't. He
made a valid point about me blocking the view for everyone else, which hadn't
occurred to any of us, obsessed with safety rather than ergonomic issues as I
was, so I moved off to the side. Not for his benefit, for the people
further-back. Nobody around him supported his manner, but there was no need
to be rude about it, looking as if he was about kick off.
Loudon W was very good, a kind of musical compere, much like Fred Wedlock (Cf.
Page 7),
only in a Rock style.
I left just as he finished, kicking my headlights up a notch, and, regretting
having to miss the next act (The Saw Doctors), making my way along the narrow
far side of the outside of the marquee, right up against a slope and picking
my way through the crowd.
Making my way quickly towards the bridge, in order to dismount and catch the
train, I found myself surrounded by Security, my headlights now on full beam
[so I could see the bloody ground,] lighting up their fluorescent jackets in
a lime blaze.
I don't think the half-dozen or so security marshals surrounding me were
escorting [in the guarding, not moving-along, manner] me, I was under the
impression this was a coincidence, but then they did ask me if this was the
fastest I could go, so they had decided to pace me, whatever their reasons
for going in that direction en-masse as well.
It wasn't my top speed, but although I was in a hurry, I was instinctively
being safe because of the crowd, and the bridge for that matter. This could
have been an error, for Security had the effect of clearing the road.
Dismounted at Chez Nous and quickly packed the equipment away. Tyresocks
still good enough for another day!
Fast-walked up to Gate 3, with my hazards & rear lights on, waited for taxi,
chatting merrily away with the half-dozen marshals on the outer gate. It was
a great banter time - each of each with lots to say, all talking rapidly, and
with proper equal time sharing. A bit like being drunk without the booze;
that's the only thing I can liken it to.
Taxi for Trowbridge station arrives, and off I go, with a merry spontaneous
wave between me and the marshal posse.
Half an hour or so's wait for the train, and a quick run down/up the steps to
the Platform 2, where the first person I encountered was the BTP policeperson
I found myself talking to over the �15 incident 2.5 weeks ago.
There was a large Chippenham crowd there, and I was friendly-accosted by many
of them. Off to Chippenham, and a quick check-in at the office, before
actually getting home before midnight! Too tired to have a bath before bed.,
but sleep very important too.
Sunday 26th July 2009
Had a quick bath, the aftereffects of which felt
sooooo good.
Despite being in a hurry, had to pick up what turned out to be two large bags
of supplies from the nearest convenience store (about 100 yards away as the
road wiggles) for my mother, whose leg is restricting her.
Caught the train from Chippenham to Trowbridge, changing at bath.
Someone appeared to be following me from bath. She kept trying to catch my
attention in the waiting room, as if to prompt a conversation, then got on
the train I used, then followed me to the bus pickup point.
Asked the minibus that arrived if this was the new shuttlebus; it wasn't, it
was a private vehicle full of people going to the festival anyway, and they
offered me a lift, in return for directions.
During the journey, they asked me what my equipment was for, and I asked them
what they were doing at the festival. It turned out they were a band, "
The Destroyers".
They borrowed my programme, and drove into Gate 1; the backstage area. I had
to apologise to the marshal on the way out (in), for not having the correct
armband, but that was fine because I was coming out [in(to the festival)]
rather than going in [in(to the backstage area)].
Reported for duty, suited up, ate a free plate of chips, and some time later
wandered into the Main Stage, as the band I met earlier were starting up. I
stared at them in turn, trying to recognise which ones I spoke to. Two of
them recognised me (maybe because of the stilts or perhaps the flashing
orange light on top of my head) before I locked onto them, and we exchanged a
little wave and thumb's-up.
Nearing the end of my first shift, I experienced my own brand of Rock & Roll,
when it started tipping down, and rehydrated the desiccated mud. I skidded on
a muddy patch, got back onto the carpet, skidded on that, and very-carefully
clunked over the main bridge, holding onto the railings [long way down to
them] as best I could.
Worryingly-muddy outside the Horizon Stage, so went onto the metal "road",
which should have had excellent grip. However, I must have carried some mud
onto the road on the bottom of my stilts, and this lubricated the wet metal.
I trotted carefully back towards Chez Nous, aiming to get onto medium mud as
son as possible. This carried me into the most crowded area.
Suddenly, both my hooves shot out from under me in odd and opposite
directions, and my recovery-stagger turned into a silly little dance, as I
somehow managed to stay "afloat". That was truly frightening, but
tremendously amusing for everybody else, so that's something at least.
Somehow, I managed to hurt my left arm muscle, in a kind of mild strain/cramp
manner, but it later transpired to be only pain instead of lasting injury.
Maybe it could have been the speed and force with which I had to adjust my
balance.
With trepidation and numerous comments, I managed to get back to base, and
dismounted without injuring myself further.
Broke for lunch at Chez Nous, then boardwalked without the stilts for the
rest of the time.
For an extra hour, I took off the front board cover, and boardwalked
advertising the advertising service itself, as part of which, showing the
quick-swap effect. Chez Nous were still on the back board; that was too
tricky to remove outside, "backstage" in the drizzle. The kitchens were at
full stretch, so no room for me in there.
The rain continued, and the temperature fell. My own temperature fell, too.
After managing to stay at a not-too-hot state on the stilts, off them with
only shirt & tie on [and trouser and boots and lights and...] was not enough.
I brought one of the suddenly very popular "Emergency Ponchos" for �1.50. The
packet was small enough to fit in my pocket.
Eventually, knocked off and locked away my equipment, "backstage" at Chez
Nous, and dried out in their field kitchen, two rooms in, next to the ovens.
Chatted to the cook, he studied electronics in school, and we discussed
possible reasons & solutions to why the batteries ran down too quickly on his
former automatic plant waterer / soil humidity tester project.
Retrieved my clipboard, and presented a strangely-flat invoice, which Chez
Nous folded-up and rounded-up to �200 for me (incidentally, �22 less than my
original estimate, thanks to shuttlebuses &c). No charge for the
accommodation, either.
Now dry, solvent, and light, I slipped on my poncho and headed off to the
beer tent,
where the party had already started, joined later by much of the rest of Chez Nous. CN's other director
was already there, more than slightly sozzled with the humid heat and the
cold beer, and indicated that I should follow him. He lead me behind the bar
(Chez Nous are friends with the company running the Bars[ -That's what I call
having the right connections!],) and through a flap into a staff area that I
can only describe as "
Beer Heaven".
Both directors, the Bar Landlord and some bar staff were there, resting on
plastic chairs and beer barrels, surrounded by steel barrels, crates of
lager/beer/cider, and other supplies all stacked up around us. Some of the
barrels were plumbed-in; wide plastic tubes full of "Rumpy Pumpy" snaking up
through their own tent flaps.
At some point, I had to pick the second director up off the floor. He was
surprisingly-light, and thus easy to retrieve gently, but then I had been
weightlifting for three days solid and my perception of how heavy things are
had altered.
Back in the public area of the staff aftershow party -if that makes any
sense-, people were often asking me for a light, and I hadn't thought to
bring a lighter. The Bar didn't sell any - a missed opportunity, so people
were lighting cigarettes with cigarettes, and I couldn't help there.
Went outside, where
Emma the fairy was still working, in the liquid mud,
in the dark, her costume lit up - she's a star.
Back inside, a happy mix of not-too-popular [very popular but not mobbed] and
not-too-drunk [drunk, but still functional], I kept sobering-up and having to
top-up with more beer.
Some Hugs, snuggles and kisses - lifted my mood very high -. The animals
turned up, it transpired all the people dressed as animals had arrived
together. They were, and were referred to as: Elephant, Tiger, Penguin,
Leprechaun (yes, I know...), Rabbit, Mouse, and Traffic-Light-Cone-Man, with
a staff-pole of lager cans. There may have been others.
Some people had bunny-ears on, which flashed in colours, but the effect was
not as novel or bright as my hazard and rear flashing lights, which were,
however, unintentionally irritating, particularly to the off-duty marshals,
who had gone to the party to escape the orange-flashing roads. "Why are you
still flashing?" several people asked me, so I turned them off. I suppose
they are warning lights rather than party lights after all, and they were
rather powerful inside a darkened marquee.
Bumped into the person who had been following up to the point I got a lift
with The Destroyers, and was drunk enough to engage in conversation this
time: I asked her if she was stalking me. She claims it was a coincidence,
and my memory of the rest of the conversation slipped away in the drink.
Monday 27th July 2009 (midnight)
Got talking to someone who turned out to be one of the (four) head marshals,
a team leader of about a hundred. He said there would probably be a staff
[Ithink] aftershow party, the trouble was confirming this rumour and locating
the thing, which turned out to be back in the large beer tent.
One thread of conversation was him telling me of difficulties supervising
a young crazy stiltwalker walking into the sea off Chesil Beach, causing
a health & safety nightmare and endangering the life of the security marshal
with him, up to her neck in water and holding his hand, trying to persuade
him back to shore. One slip and he've drowned, you see. (This also means
there is no need to explain to the marshals why I shooed them off the bridge
earlier, if their team leader is already aware of this sort of problem.)
Talking out of the rain, we nearly found ourselves stapled into the Main
Stage as it closed, then headed off to the beer tent.
Emma was off stilts and kneeling down by a table of people, letting off steam
about nutters who try to knock you over and similar problems stiltwalkers
tend to encounter. Mary had presumably gone to bed. I joined her (Emma, not
Mary,) reversing relative heights quite startlingly even kneeling-down, and
offered back-up experiences and sympathy, particularly about the lengthy
preparation that punters don't see: It seems the problems stiltwalkers have,
have much in common, and her being a fairly-unique costumed traditional
Chinese-pole stiltwalker and me a totally unique sandwichboardman on new
powerisers stiltwalker, it was refreshing and very sociably-bonding to find
someone with the same problems.
Five Pints later ('round about 12 Units), some of which I managed to buy
myself, the marshals started shooing us out of beer tent, then that side of
the river, then the central area. Now, my magic staff pass meant not only did
I have access to the posher (although no less muddy) crew toilets, but to the
central area all through the night. This also placed me piggy-in-the-middle
because as staff, I was supposed to be helping the marshals with any tricky
chucking-out, but I wanted to side with the other drunks. Half the marshals
were drunk too, and starting chucking each-other out. Apparently they have a
self-lockout-time, afterwhich they are restricted to manning the gates of the
central zones. The marshals do not have staff passes, which did not simplify
matters.
During all this chaos, the Scottish friends I had acquired agreed I could
carry on partying with them in their tents, so I vetoed my privileged access
and left with the campers, because I can't party on my own, can I?
God knows where the other people with staff passes were; I didn't meet any,
or we could have partyed where we were, or maybe in the crew area.
I noticed the main bridge was barricaded now, cutting the central area in
two. Why this was the case, when the central area was already itself cut-off,
was unclear.
Because of all this partying, I didn't use the accommodation that had been so
kindly provided for me and my diva demands at such short notice, and woke up
in the morning in a smelly sleeping bag in a strange tent on the edge of the
site, and had to ask directions to get "home". For some reason, I was wearing
a fez at this point.
Wake awake early in the morning, the hangover was detectable but strangely
bearable, and so I asked anybody I could find if they needed any help. Only
three lots of other people were about, a marshal and a trader were happy to
be respectively bored and busy on their own, but a pair of marshals thought
of either a spot check, wake-up call, or possibly a practical joke to pay the
remotest marshal who should be manning Gate 4.
Waded up over the hill to the inner junction outpost for Gate 4, and along
the lengthy track to the outpost, which turned out to be deserted. Went back
to the inner crewshack, but the specified person was neither of the
half-asleep, hungover-looking marshals there.
Slid back down the hill and met the original marshals, then went to the (dry,
warm) accommodation provided for me in Camping Car 2, activated the hidden
catch, and got in. Slept through to the part of the morning when there was
other activity.
Booked a taxi - my phone was just-about working at the back of CN.
CN had closed and were packing up, so I got a breakfast tea at the only place
still open, their immediate neighbour, Al Fresco Coffee. 'Had to spill some
of that out and top up with cold water from CN's supply. It was a good cup -
it really hit the spot. I needed that.
A chat with CN's main director in his caravan, analysis of past and possible
future events, booked for Chippenham next year. Got his email address
[earlier], 'will send ideas. One of his sons has come down with a nasty
stomach bug and was lying down there.
Double- and Triple-Checked I had everything, gave away a spare roll of
clingfilm-wrapped kitchen towelling to make more room, found a toothbrush
mysteriously placed in one of my bags - some kind of hint? (Some abscesses
recently burst and that may have given me bad breath for a few days; my
molars have sharpened and my teeth must look quite scary; but then again
there was no trouble with the kissing in the beer tent yesternight.)
'Said my goodbyes, heaved up my gear, said goodbye round the front, and
walked off towards Gate 3, dodging the heavy traffic.
Got a Bradford-on-Avon taxi to BoA station, remembering to get a receipt, and
brought a new ticket back to 'Nam.
Got some Lucozade and overpriced-cheap food at bath station, and the train
turned up just as I was finishing it.
Monday 27th July 2009 (afternoon)
Got back from the festival a bit after One. Still a bit of a hangover, in the
form of fatigue.
Did accounts and a lot of this blog. Uploaded to the PC photos I took from my
phone, and preprepared flickr captions. I was juddering with over-exercise,
cold, and hunger. Grabbed some quick hot food, intending to go home, where my
parents had promised me a hot meal, but didn't make it take far, and woke up
in the office in the morning again.
'Cut my wristbands off and unclipped my lights.
Tuesday 28th July 2009 (morning)
I will calculate how my business expenses less turnover equates to profit by
now, to see if I have to declare anything to the DWP on Friday. Previous
Capital expenditure was �600, but that was calculated as an expenses claim
(which I dredged up and copied over to the RPC several days ago) to the
Landlord in the previous business model. Now it is my own business as a sole
trader, some of the items may not count, and there may be new ones that do. I
can't just declare my business income as my personal income, because if I do
that, the weekend will have been for nothing, and the business won't get
anywhere. Besides which, [the legal/tax expert says,] (that apparently) I
don't have to.
I've put my business'es income under Withdrawals in my accounts, because I
didn't expand the capability for business income when I did for business
expenditure, so I'll create a new column for that and alter the totalling so
the error-checking still balances.
To enable tax payments and make the debit card work, I'll have to pay in some
cash to the new account. I'm not sure how to do this for the fastest effect.
I assume talking to a teller with a pay-in slip (which I don't know how to
use) would be faster than using an ATM, so I'll confirm that with another
business holder when I find one.
Took the Trowbridge location strips off the CN posters, ready for next year.
The rear poster has the Chippenham location underneath; the front one has a
blank bit. I'll haveta print a new front strip bearing the Chippenham
location data, and file away the CN posters & strips for next year.
Both location strips were held on only round the edges only using
single-sided Diamond tape -'haveta remember that, too.
The new double-width auto-dispensing double-sided Sellotape(R) did not peel
easily off the boards. Instead it split into two dry layers, or at least on
the front board it did. The larger rear board got wetter, and the wet tape
came off easily. I shall wet the dry tape when I buy more supplies, and go
back to using the narrow tape for future use.
I can afford fresh supplies! I can afford USB transfer stick thingies! I can
afford... tax. Er, the rent is due this evening. Oh well, no worries.
I'll dig out my floppy cleaning disc and run it through the PC's wobbly
drive.
Though I'm not juddering anymore, I still have lingering muscle stiffness(,
virtually everywhere).
Went out and brought some business consumables, mainly preventative-medicinal
dressings and stationary. 'Feeling wide awake; 'may even nip down RI.
Wednesday 29th July 2009 (just gone midnight)
In the event, 'did go down RI, but to little avail, as Mburu wanted to close
up a little later than an hour later, to catch a bus.
Ran most of the necessary searches, but only managed to upload half the
photos, and not to caption them.
Cafe' closed at 2100, which dropped me into the late night gap between rail
services to Chippenham. So I walked around bath until the train was due. It
was a pleasant evening, and many people were out and about, chatting by
venues, photographing each other, being pestered by giant albatrosses, and so
on.
Surprised a fed-up Big Issue seller by agreeing to buy one: My previous logic
is no longer valid. Richer [ie everyone else] friends used to say to me,
"it's only �1.50 - you can afford that." No: they can afford that, because
they earn ten times what I do. Me shelling out that much is equivalent to
them giving each seller �15: Not so cheap now, eh? However, I'd just been
paid a fortune - �200 - and all at once! So therefore I could afford it, and
did so. 'Didn't explain all this to the seller.
I just had a thought - the crew area plugs into Gate 2, so presumably I could
get in & out there [without trudging all the way to Gate 3,] with my magic
staff pass? No good after Saturday though; the mud was worst around there.
'Met Ray, my nextdoor neighbour, next to CN on Saturday (or Sunday?) 'Tis
odd, I never bump into him anywhere outside the road I [allegedly] live in.
Well well, he can explain to my mother why I've not been home for three days.
At many points during the festival while I was stiltwalking, I noticed small
groups of paramedics following me around.
I still can't get out of the stiltwalking gaite, as someone at the festival
pointed out "you were walking like you're still on them." Ie, lifting my legs
up higher than normal and waiting for my lower legs to drop down rather than
swinging them forwards and out.
I aim to have the rest of the photos uploaded and captioned tomorrow.
Wednesday 29th July 2009 (mid-afternoon)
In the free intercafe', harressing a flaky PC,
got the rest of my photos uploaded
and labelled, but the map is a little wrong. Awash with rain outside, which
enabled me to sponge down my shoes earlier on.
I will have to apologise to Dr. Sweetsmoke for my delay in contacting him:
Sunday/Monday night I arranged accomodation, then woke up in a strange tent instead;
Monday/Tuesday night I worked until I dropped, was about to go home, then woke
up on the office floor 2-3 hours later;
Tuesday/Wednesday night I simply didn't sleep at all.
I may need a little more time.
This looks just like the regular flavour spinning cog.
This one spins on a different axis.
And this does both, giving a different orientation to each "side", and a kind
