After the fair debacle that was day 1, I decided to embrace the concept of pacing. Mainly because, as you get older kids - and if you learn nothing from your old, uncle Tenny (and believe me, you'll learn nothing from your old, uncle Tenny) then learn this: as one gets older, ones ability to recover diminishes dramatically. So, while I wasn't what you'd consider 'hungover,' I wasn't all butterflies and moonbeams neither.
Water became my saviour this day. Both from the bottle and the sky. Because, yes we're in Victoria and yes, it's going to rain at some stage. It did not, however, piss down like it was threatening too. Just a few spatters here and there; enough to take the heat down but not enough to really care about.
So, after breakfast and a particularly awesome set by Graveyard Train; who played to a crowd of people dressed as mummies especially for their song, 'Move like a mummy;' Lady Hem and I retired to the tent for a bit of a read of the paper and a bit of rest out of the sun. That's when I realised that I hadn't heard any news for a couple of days and first read about the horrific earthquake/tsunami that hit Japan. It certainly brought a sober perspective on the morning, I can tell you. We read, we talked and finally, we heard stirrings from the tents beside us. Yes, the Irish boys were awake and almost ready to take on the morning. Almost. It seems that, during some time in the night, they'd managed to lock their keys in the car.
'Ah hah!' we thought. 'RACV is on site. We'll just get the boys to call them, they'll come and rescue them in a jiffy.' But they were having none of it. One of the boys borrowed a hammer from another camper and they set to work trying to prise the driver's side door open. Now, I don't know if you've ever tried to break into a car, but this - to me - seemed the least likely way to do it. But no, they assured us, we've done it before. They've done it before???!!!
Lady Hem and I were about ready to go back down to the stage area but, we couldn't force ourselves away from the spectacle. Neither could a few of the other campers around us. Believe me, it's quite a sight to see two arguing Irishmen attempt to prise a door open with a hammer, while one sticks his arm in the very small gap to try opening the lock and the other tries not to smash the window as he's pulling the door back on it's hinges. We couldn't watch anymore, so we left them to it. Later on, as it got colder, Lady Hem went back to get her hoodie and told me that they'd managed to get the car open and you could barely see where the door had been pulled. I didn't believe that for a minute but, when I went back to get a jacket for myself, she was right.
So, highlights (apart from that) of the rest of the day? Pulled apart by Horses - bratty, snotty, young boy punk at it's British finest (I think they're from Leeds); Best Coast - American/Californian 60's girl pop with grunt (it should've been sunny for them; oh well); our own Robert Forster - Go Betweens classics mixed with his own solo work (you haven't lived till you've seen Rob Forster live) and Imelda May - 50's rockabilly/soul/gospel/blues belter (best crowd singalongs of the day). Most boring, pointless and irrelevant band of the day (you realise this is just my opinion, right?)? Belle and Sebastian. Seriously, what is all the hoopla?
Anyway, a great weekend was had by all and, if you ever get the chance to come over here and you time it for either Meredith or Golden Plains, do yourself a favour and go. Meredith if you're young, Golden Plains if you're old.
And I'll leave you all to figure out the age brackets.