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| En-route |
Sitting on the bus on the way to the
airport, I glance out the window in front of me… the last few hours of sunshine
spreads in a golden wave across the lush green slopes of the English
countryside. My heart fluctuates between that satisfied feeling deep in my soul
and the nervousness of knowing that I’ve got to change pace and restrain that
inner child that’s been roaming free for the last few days…
Let’s rewind a little… the fast paced and
unsurprisingly stressful journey to the station on the way to the party left us
with 2 minutes to spare, racing up the stairs with the regular panic of
thinking we were going to miss our train yet again, but as always (touch wood)
we made it in the nick of time. Ciders at the ready and a red face in no time,
we broke the barrier of 'no eye-contact on a train' and made new friends with the guy in the
seat next to us, as we wrote L’s hippie activism sign for ‘Woodstock day’ that
read ‘Saving the bees gives me a buzz’ – it didn’t actually get used but was a
conversation starter if anything. |
| Down the rabbit hole |
 |
| Sexy garden party |
So we arrived at the train station and after
a failed attempt at trying to haggle a taxi driver down to get to the stately
home in the middle of the countryside, we wondered away to try to get a bus,
hoping he’d call back for us… but he didn’t. So with no idea where to go, we sheepishly sauntered over to agree on the original set price… we picked up
the essentials and arrived at the house of fun (Listen: https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=RIacAO4Ttyk)
 |
| Choose your face ;) |
The warm glow of fairy lights greeted us, accompanied
by the faint sounds of jazzy beats as 70 +people dressed in crazy outfits
(accompanied by fluorescent fro’s and straggly bits of barbie hair) emerged
from all directions, embracing old and new faces alike. We found our rooms, got
into costumes and began the shenanigans – we wondered in awe around the fantastical maze … from the chapel rave to the giant games room filled with snooker tables,
giant cross-4 and chess boards, a trampoline, space hoppers and so much more … |
| Mags and co. |
Aaaand the party kicked off .. bleh bang
boombamdizzledoo we moved to them funky funky beats and got U’s ‘good
vibrations goin on’ … twirling and twisting in all sorts of weird and wonderful
ways. Listening to hilarious stories about how J got spat on in tesco by a random woman (for
buying baby props for his outfit) or chanting mantras of Dave eating his vitamins
;) …
 |
| Emergency bingoo |
Time seemed irrelevant as everyone went
with the rhythm of their own constitution. The weather forecast had been one of
two extremes, so it was either bikini weather or tornado’s … but the vibes
caught on and were glorious as the sun shined and we all lay together on the
grass, under trees of cherry blossom jamming away.
The forfeits for those that hadn’t
completed their tasks pre-party, involved drinking a shot and racing down a
hill against someone on a space hopper :p and then the shift embraced a bit of funk
and soul that filled the space and got the grooving going. I swam doggy paddle
in circles in the pool, watching with dilated pupils the steam come off the
water as it collided with the cold air above it… C. continued to paddle about, solo
and nude with a baby doll being thrown around and caressed by each of us in
turn… I soon joined in on the dread shared by the rest of the pool dwellers regarding
getting out of the water and into the cold, cold air. But it had to be done! So
towels at the ready, and the next set of clothes…
 |
| Forfeits |
The themes for each night were ‘the
carnival of colours’, ‘heaven and hell’ and 'Woodstock'. On the Heaven and hell
evening, as I raved in the cornered off ‘hell section’ in the chapel dressed as Maggie thatcher, there seemed to be less of a willingness to
cross over to the dark side and there was soon a sad shift in numbers as people
wiggled their way to heaven… my partner in crime who was dressed as a giant
baby stuck close by, at least magz still has some supporters… as I danced in
front of ‘jihadi john’ the DJ, I couldn’t help but chuckle at the irony of the
situation..
Woodstock was wonderful as everyone’s inner
hippie emerged. Flowers, fumes, sunnies, hippie pants and a kaleidoscope of
colours as we all bonded, roamed and soaked in some delicious vitamin D. Later
on came games of emergency bingo, secret disco rooms, mystic tents, hypothecary
and moustache stalls, face paint, drawing booths, photo booths and powerful
performances. The chapel was again transformed, thanks to the amazing organisation
committee and we raved all night spinning to colourful disco balls, reading
tarot cards and having spangly wangly conversations and musical jams.
 |
| The games room |
It was a time for our hearts to be free,
for judgments, worries and conformity to be left with reality. We slept at
different times in one of many beds and awoke to more sexy kitchen, chapel,
karaoke and pool parties, you just had to follow the chants to find out where
to go. Surprise pass the parcel at 4am in the dining room was my favourite…
techno tunes as we manically passed the parcel along revealing the naughty
treats beneath each layer. And then finally, as though someone had clicked their
fingers, the clock began to tick again and the party came to a close as a very delirious
clean up took priority between 70+ people and the home slowly returned to its normal
state.
Although I’m a newcomer, the attachments formed
when you create so many bonds is always hard to leave – so we decided not to :p
… and headed to the nearest beach to sink into sand dunes with the strumming of
guitar and the melody of R and U singing Hare Krishna mantras. Flower fumes,
luscombe ice cream and cheesy chips – we covered up from the sea breeze and sat
together to enjoy what was soon beginning to feel like summer (with evidence of
red noses to take home with us) …
Parting hugs, future promises and back in the car we went, stealing a few souls with us to Bristol for the night to indulge in Indian, feel clean again and snuggle into comfortable duvets with a mellow mix to sooth us to sleep.
With the pressure of our western lifestyles, a manic form of liberation is essential too – getting weird, getting down and acting somewhat like a clown (or dressed like one) you feed that aspect of your spirit that needs to have fun and not always take life too seriously (even though it’s easy to forget that.)
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| Beach Jams |
Words cant describe the magical event that’s appropriate to call the best party of the year full of love, respect and trust (and probably one of the coolest chapel raves on easter sunday!) so thank you to the wonderfully organised Captain and team for making it such a special occasion, my appreciation is dear.
Delirium describes my present state as I sit
on an aeroplane en-route to Malaysia for the next adventure, to recuperate my
senses, connect to my family and lovers and feel the steamy heat on my face as
I step out of the aeroplane and into my tropical home for a eggstatic Easter
;).
