Cassandra Gardiner returns with this week’s offering. Guest opinion articles do not necessarily reflect the views of the publication. Ed
It’s getting hotter, the big top is up, lorries and juggernauts off-loading their cargo, preparing for the opening. ‘Piper at the Gates’, ‘Come as you Are’, curved entrances in the fields announcing the festival is here.
Traffic queuing, routes change, revamping the landscape tee-pees, fencing, tents and mobile toilets. Energy in the air, bustling on the buses, cranking-up to a fervent beat the Island swings.
Preparing for a weekender, dancing, singing, sun and fun.
Off we go
Packing wellies with shades, hats and beer, let’s party! Tickets ready, queues forming, as the rush is on. Finding a spot, pitching tents, flowing with the rhythm. Buzzing, gathering and the show goes live.
Drifting days sweeping into ravey nights, as the sun fades, the dust rises and the lights go on. Roaring, swelling, swinging and swigging, lurching to the beat the crowd heaves like the sea. Bass notes booming across the sky, the dance is on.
Eclectic, energetic, friendships forming, swaying with the mass, pop stars shine, wooing their fans, as the fever rises. Pulsating, nauseating, evening air chilling the heat, security murmur watching bacchants frolic. Food sizzles, drinks guzzle, the party rocks.
Sweet sweat, stomping, arms swaying and bodies rub, feeding the atmosphere, thousands dancing, giggling and gay.
The place to be
Fantasy propels a midsummer’s dream, luring the sleeping from slumber, daytime into night life, escapism and mischief. Noise-fuelled, revellers rave, skip and kiss into the midnight blue.
Tuning into expressive form, people come colouring the scenery whilst the Isle of Wight, briefly, is the place to be.
To read more of Cassandra Gardiner‘s work, visit her blog.
Image: Simon Haytack under CC BY 2.0
