Solar Tribe & Exodus

Am back in Sydney now. Am very tired, so I'm copying and pasting a letter I wrote to the mag's letters section about a week ago. It kind of captures what the first part of the holiday was about (as my Grumpy persona... oh, and I might have to accept that Grumpy is my writing name because another mag wants to keep running my Grumpy column... may have to change this blog name), but it doesn't convey to the uninitiated that I am taking the piss, and that this was a brilliant holiday. The first rainy party was so cool, there was some tedious shit to deal with in Surfer's, some idle fun in Byron, then there was another party at Tenterfield called Exodus... man, that was fun. I can still hear the music, my skin is still tanned, the soles of my feet are still leathery... And my beard has trainer wheels, but it's all I can do.

I joked to a friend about the structure of my DNA morphing into hippie, but there is some truth in that. There were wanker hippies, for sure, but some cool ones too, some friends and new friends and... more in detail later. Exodus 2007 though... I am there.

Right, read this. I have to get some sleep, go do my job tomorrow and think about what I am leaping into in eight weeks or so.

Dear 3D,

What happens when you go on a holiday? It fucking rains like it's never rained before, that's what happens. The locals are on about being drought conditions until you show up, like somehow it's your fault. Hippies? Fuck off. Real hippies aren't so hostile. What else happens? You save a little kid from drowning in the river that has suddenly appeared, but does she say thanks? Fuck no. Then you dance for 15 hours in the mud, not because the music is pumping (which it was) but because if you stop dancing you start to freeze because you're soaked through to the skin. Then you get evacuated because if you don't get out now you may not make it at all. Then all your shit is wet and muddy and moldy and you have to drive for ages to the nearest town, and let me tell you... well driving on acid is kind of fun but not recommended. The police don't respond very well to, "Sorry officer, but can we make this snappy - the giant scorpions are right behind us."

Anyway, point is, you may as well stay at home because otherwise you may have to deal with floods and hostile hippies.

And those fucking giant scorpions.

Holidays are shit. Can't wait to get back home.

Grumpy.
Byron Bay.