My first day at the festival, hereafter to be referred as BIFFF, was a rewarding and enjoyable one. The night before, when Gert was off at the opening night ceremonies, I spent my first real solo time in the city, managing to navigate my way around the myriad of twisting, turning, inner-GPS defying streets.
Seriously, you know how when you’re out in the forest and you decide to go off-trail for a while and lose your way, but then stumble upon a field of psychedelic mushrooms, chow down on them, trip out for the rest of the day and after waking up in the middle of the night in a pile of your own sick, try to navigate your way back to the car in the dark but just keep passing what looks like the same pile of rocks over and over again? I mean, we’ve all been there, right? Right?
