It’s ten at night. Bergman and I are back in Brighton after he finally got his MOT sorted. Gotta tax him now before someone pulls me over and fines me.
It has started to get dark a little earlier. It’s becoming noticeable and I do not like this one tiny little bit. Still, there was a light smattering of summer today. We stretched out in it and let it nibble our skin. My feet are still pale. This is incorrect. Normally by this time of year they’re as brown as a nut and I taste of sea salt.
Ovingdean was pretty quiet by the time I got there, and there’s a good stretch of sandy beach before the sea. I got out of my black London trousers and walking boots, into my shorts and white Birkenstock. We both got some vitamin B as I looked longingly at the Brighton waves. They are mostly full of lazy-government sewage these days. They eased restrictions on water companies put in by the pesky EU to stop us finishing the job of making our waterways toxic.
I will be here a few more days and maybe I’ll risk a sea swim anyway. Maybe though I’ll just go for a chlorine dip in the SeaLanes over the road – after all they’re delightful, but £11.
I want to mark the fact that I’m having a little festival here at Lou’s house as catslave while she goes off to Medicine Festival and prances about with a woowoo crowd of 9000 people. That’s VAST compared to when we went in 2020 and there were like 700.
I used to get paid to go to approximately three festivals a year most years. COVID broke that thread. I might need to get some images together for a strong offering of a festival walkabout next year so I can get my fix. I don’t think I could manage Shambala now even if I wanted to, with the commitments of the work I’ve got coming up, and when you do loads of festival work it starts to feel weird to buy it.
There’s some food in the fridge, there’s the sea, a bakery selling great coffee, a small fluffy cat and all the wonders of Brighton just on our doorstep. Among other things I’m gonna try and catch up with my admin here when I’m not surrounded by all the distractions of home. If you’re around this way I’ll be here on my own, chilling, trying to make my own wellness festival. Come play.
AlBarclay 