YESSSS!! I went to the Hay Festival, and I bet you are all jealous! AND I heard Louise Rennison to whom I owe the title of this post, and my previous one, and I am sure also many future quotes!
What we learn from this experience: there are very few occassions when getting up at 4am is a good idea. Spending four hours on a train to Wales is sadly not one of them. But alas, it is easy to see this in hindsight...at the time it seemed...adventurous...!?
You would never guess (?!) but there are a few things which make me VERY neurotic. One of them is public transport. This makes it necessary to arrive at the station at least three hours before the train is due to leave. Well not quite, but not far off. And standing in the queue in Sainsbury's in Manchester Piccadilly train station when the train is due to leave in 10 minutes is not exactly the best time to have a conversation with me. Apologies to Megan who had to put up with my nonsense. And no, we didn't get left behind!
The festival was a success on all accounts, but there is one thing which cannot escape mention. That is, the colossal amount of MUD we came into contact with. In fact possibly the most mud I have ever met in one place in my life! Soooooooo exciting for me, a professed mud-lover, and I was leaping about in it willy-nilly and with gay abandon etc... But it of course led to the wholly necessary purchase of some thoroughly exciting spotty wellies which will likely make a comeback for SWInG and Momentum in the summer!
Not much else of significance to say about Hay, other than the fact that it is, of course, a festival about LITERATURE and not about HAY. As in, it is in Hay-on-Wye in lovely, rainy Wales. Having said that, I was within three miles of the river for a week without once coming into contact with it. But alas, I shall stop my nonsensical ramblings now!