Thursday, August 07, 2008

Fame (local), fortune (spent) and stripey trousers

Day 9, Cropredy

Today marks the official start of the festival, and people have been processing onto the site all day. The village is now heaving with people, and a number of stalls have been set up both there and on the festival site, enabling us to quickly satisfy all our stripey patchwork trouser requirements. Truly, this is a place where stripey trousers, cowrie-embellished hats and a wide range of beards can be worn without fear or irony. I’m amazed there’s anyone left in Lewes.

Baz is loving it and has two new pairs of trousers, a shirt and a splendid hat. My boating hat is very much in the right vein and, I venture to say, outdoes the rest.

The day started with rain, and us sawing off the padlock that was put (I will not say by whom but it wasn’t me or Baz) on the back slide upside down, meaning that the keyhole was underneath and we couldn’t get the key into it. It sawed off with frightening ease and quietness. We had a lovely evening yesterday at the Brasenose Arms with Mike, and did indeed meet Megan; and we were back there at lunchtime in lovely sunshine to listen to a band in their garden, after collecting our wristbands and touring the village. Then onto the field as soon as it opened to spend all our money on sartorial enhancement.

Sebastian and I also got interviewed by a young man called Tim in a rather startling white suit for BBC local TV, on account of having come to the festival by boat. I thought we’d be safe and wouldn’t have to look at it ourselves, but later discovered that Baz will find it on the internet.


Anonymous said...

I once owned, via slightly nefarious means, an ex-military filing cabinet. Painted in camouflage, stencils, the whole works.

It had a lock for which I had no key, this didn't matter as I didn't need to lock it. One day a smallish Alice wandered past and pressed the lock in, locking it. To this day she harbours a sense of grievance about the trouble she caught, pointing out that she didn't know what that button did.

I was convinced that I would need the services of a safe-cracker to see the contents of my files again, but it turned out that merely drilling out a few rivets got me back inside. I guess the MOD didn't keep the launch codes for nuclear missles in there, then.

Alice says: I felt absolutely no remorse for my actions, more a vague sense of achievement at the uproar I caused, thankyouverymuch.

Adam said...

They didn't use much of your interview did they? You'd have thought they'd at least have chosen a bit which included the word 'boat'!

S said...

As long as I didn't look too dreadful...