1066 And All That

Nothing says British seaside town like needle disposal points in public toilets.

I've been to Hastings.  It was ace. It was the first day of carnival and they take that nonsense seriously. Beach parties.  Street parties.  Pop up restaurants. Heroic volumes of alcohol. Got it covered.  The kick off event is the Tug of War - we got there for the 10.30 start: we felt that we had a heap of catching up to do; everyone seemed to be about four pints in - and the whole town seemed to be there.  And the drinking continued.

It was like 28 days later in Old Hastings this morning.  A sea of crushed plastic glasses. Candy floss tumble weed bowling across the street. Herring gulls pecking at beerstained corpses.  We got the hell out of dodge and headed for Battle, to try and get some of that history stuff.  What we actually found was a touristy ghost town with overpriced parking - who would have thought?

Speaking of history, isn't it strange that the only dates that everyone knows end in '66? The Alamanni attack on the Roman Empire; the Battle of Benevento; the Death of Frederik V of Norway - all of the dates that everyone knows...

To fully embrace the staycation vibe we camped in that Hastings. Aside from festivals I've not camped anywhere in over five years. I don't remember ankle deep brown water in the showers being a thing when I used to camp.  It appears to be a thing now.  Not certain that it added to the camping experience for me.

Millions of Mischiefs

Don't you hate it when you turn up to a well-reviewed, barn-stormer of a show only to find that that night's performance is actually in Norwegian? Ho hum. Still it sort of fitted with the show and it did mean that I discovered the Norwegian Coffee Song - which is ridiculous - I've found a mediocre version for you.

I went to see Julius Caesar.  I've seen it a few times now, but never realised how much teen fiction steals from it - Mortal Instruments; The Fault in Our Stars; about a third of the characters from Hunger Games (I mean, Caesar Flickerman - how did I not notice that before?) - so I'm laying claim to Millions of Mischiefs before anyone else does.

Talking of YA fiction, just finished the Daughter of Smoke and Bone trilogy. That's worth a read.  Although I am nervous that it might be a gateway drug to hardcore fantasy.

In food news - foos - hats off to Merry Berry Chocolates for giving me something that was too spicy to eat. Their scorpion death chocolate has been doing the rounds for a couple of years now and is tasty as. Whatever they gave me on Friday night made the scorpion death taste like Milkybars, it left me seriously concerned that my mouth might slip out of my face.

A Toast for the Douchbags

So I went to Wireless Festival.

Now I knew when I booked it that I was too old for it, that it would be full of people that listen to Radio 1; people that know what an Iggy Azalea is.  I was out of my depth. It's three years since I last went to a Big Festival - I didn't enjoy it then. It was stupid of me to go.  I admit that. So the following rant needs to be put in the context that this is all my fault.  No one else to blame. That being said...

Right let's gloss over the bulk of the day, ignore the terrible choice in expensive drinks, ignore the shambolic between set deejaying, and start with Pharrell. He put on a karaoke set absolutely chock full of hits (Boom).  He also spent a lot of time between songs preaching about equality between the sexes; spouting sickly, quasi-feminist platitudes - "Who's hear today with a woman that's going to change the world?" This was made even more sickly when he launched into everyone's favourite pro-rape anthem. Aah, equality and rape - what a hero. Sorry, did I say hero? It had the right amount of letters.

Still at least the Pharrell set was a crowd pleaser (albeit for a crowd who can't spell hypocrisy). Next came Kanye West, the main event. For just about the biggest pop performer in the world I was expecting some sort of stage show - this wasn't so much the case - no stageset, poor sound quality, no visuals, for a fair chunk of the show the big screens were turned off - this wouldn't be so much of a problem either at a smaller festival, or a festival populated by smaller people - but there seems to be a correlation between obvious pop and steroids so all that about fifty percent of the crowd could see were enormous shoulders.  

Still he did give us a Spectacle.  It was a masterclass in dividing a crowd - stopping songs part way through to have a chat with his entourage, not bothering with his own songs to concentrate on his side project stuff, wearing a beaded face mask for most of the gig.  And then the piece de resistance, a twenty-ish minute rant about the benefits of creativity over celebrity from a man who married a reality TV star.  At the five minute mark the boos started; at the ten minute mark people started leaving; still, it's a show that people will talk about, that you had to be there to be a part of something bigger, something unique - which I guess is the point of live music.

Can't help but think the Festival organisers may be giving back a few more refunds more Drake's cancellation tonight than they may have done.