August 9th 1996
A brief recount of my experiences (those that I remember) from Eisteddfod Llandeilo 1996.
The 1970’s orange and brown triangle tent failed dismally in the West Walian wash out. It has been consigned to the bin, never, ever to be seen or, thankfully, used again. It survived 2 nights of pills :), thrills (thanks to a beautiful boy from Bethesda) and bellyaches (over indulgence of K cider, vodka and green Pot Noodles), but it was the miserable, relentless rain that finally saw it off.
There were good times – the brief periods of glorious sunshine, like fools gold, teasing us out to play. The amazing bands we were honoured to see including the supreme Super Furry Animals and their fantastic blue tank. We managed to squeeze into their Pabell Roc (Rock Tent) performance and were given a songbook to sing the English words for them as English is banned from the stages at the Eisteddfod. The above mentioned Beautiful Bethesda Boy. The guitars around the campfire. The CD player continued to work throughout our stay even though it was left out in the rain. The joyful banter and idle chat of a close group of friends with nothing better to do.
There were bad times – the dark clouds that persistently spat out rain that slowly, yet painfully, dissolved our resolve. That we managed to drunkedly fall asleep in the only afternoon sunshine we had and slowly burnt to a deep red. The country folk who still thought it was acceptable to pinch a girl’s behind as a chat up line. My beautiful new Adidas Gazelles destroyed by the acrid mud. Ruddy faced idiots who thought the dancefloor of a gig was the perfect spot for a drunken brawl. The snoring….bloody hell the snoring…….the fucking snoring.
At this early stage of my return I am unsure of whether I enjoyed myself or not. I need a week of uninterrupted snore free sleep, a detox, some proper home cooked food and the company of civilised city folk.
‘Never again’ has been uttered in true come down style. My lowly airbed seems ridiculously luxurious and I cannot help but marvel at the invention of an indoor toilet.
I need to sleep this off.
The next day.
I did actually sleep for 15 hours yesterday. I wouldn’t admit to being sprightly but, some small resemblance of my former self has returned. Still cannot imagine drinking alcohol again and the thought of a Chicken and Mushroom Pot Noodle makes me want to vom, a lot. Ventured out to develop our photos from last week. We were concerned about the water logged cameras but luckily, or perhaps unluckily, the photos survived.
Well time to plan the next chapter of the Summer of ’96 Love Adventures. Up next is a two week visit from my Wisconsin born cousin Erin. She arrives tomorrow. We will be giving her a brief, but valuable introduction to Britpop via the V Festival. I hope she is ok, it could be a horrible few weeks if she is into Celine Dion or some such crap. Cross fingers for a cool cousin.
(The song leaflet from the SFA Eisteddfod gig).