q in the park

come about 7 o'clock friday night i'd successfully convinced myself that t in the park was actually only called that because of an unfortunate typo when someone missed the letter q. getting up at stupid o'clock in the morning and joining rush hour complete with a couple of bags and a big fuck off tent is not an experience i'm in any rush to repeat. the 4 hours sat on a train was pretty harmless enough, but pouring out onto the platform at edinburgh was were the real fun began. in our infinite wisdom we'd decided not to bother booking tickets for the bus from station to site and it would appear we're not the only ones. was our fault for not planning ahead, so can't grumble too much at an hour or so's wait to get the all important piece of paper. bargain, we'll be on site in an hour, tent up in half an hour and down the bar by 6. or not. there's a few people waiting for the buses (which are running every 10 minutes). oh look, a few more. not just a few, in fact, a mile and half long queue's worth. so another couple of hours of queuing and we were on a bus. the festival site is in a nice little corner of scotland called kinross which is about an hour out of edinburgh. off the bus and a bit more queuing and then we were in and searching for a spot to stick the tent, which took an impressive 10 minutes to get up. a while to explore, stock up on excessively overpriced beer and then off to bed with a stomach full of butterflies and anticipation for a weekend's music.