So, I figured I should probably post my write up of camp, seeing as it was awesome and what not. So, this post is my little week long diary (from retrospect).
But first, I must mention my beloved Dear Chicago, I promise it's relevant!
So, Day one, (not quite) in the MCYC house...
Have you ever woke up at 5am?
I did. I had a gig the night before, in Badformat, and we went out afterwards, I must have got in about three, so that equals about two messed up hours of sleep. Once I woke up, my mind was racing, and I was lying there in the light having some not so nice thoughts, so I decided to just get up and pack (Yes, I still needed to pack, what you gonna do? I got there in the end...)
And for once, everything fitted in okay! I mean, alright, looking back I'd forgotten a towel, which usually takes up a lot of room, and my favourite jeans, but I SWEAR I put them in there. I am pretty much 100% convinced that Mum took them out while I was out to make room for the waterproof jacket I used a total of one time. On the way back. For twenty minutes, forgetting to put it back in, but it doesn't matter. I managed alright without them. I finished packing about 8am, and had two hours to spare before Liam came a-knocking for our all important meeting, so I watched some TV, fell back asleep at nine, and woke up at ten to ten (COWBOY TIME) and realised I had ten minutes till I was leaving.
So, when everyone else was heading out to the coach, I was heading out to the Crowne Plaza hotel with the band, for a meeting. For once, I was on time, along with Sean and Liam, and we waited by Moorfields for the others.
To cut a long story short, the meeting was about The Breakout Festival, which we'll be playing at, so come on down!
10th September 2010, Tickets £7 Adv, £9 on the night, In the Cavern, 14+
Contact me, bring everyone you can, and vote for Dear Chicago!
It's gonna be epic!
So anyway, my Dad picked me up from the meeting, complete with KFC, pillow, and all my stuff, and we set of for camp! The others had arrived just before I left, according to Rachel, and I was texting Caroline everytime I passed somewehere significant, except, I fell aslepp, and then, I stopped passing significant places, and realised something was wrong. Plus the little dot on my Iphone map was getting further and further away, so my Dad stopped at a little shop, and asked where Pwllheli was.
"You'll have to get off the island first."
Apparently, we were in Angelsey. Obviously. This seems to happen everytime my Dad drives anywhere in Wales. He's never been on purpose. No idea how. There's a massive bridge that you have to drive over to get to Angelsey.
SO, the two hour journey became a four hour journey. We got to Pwllheli, and asked a woman for directions to the Haven, because I knew how to get to camp from there, and got the reply:
"I've lived her all my life...but I've never been..."
After she'd beckoned my Dad out of the car, because she couldn't hear properly. 'I don't know, sorry' would have been fine by me!
So then we asked a man in a car, and he said to turn right at the roundabout. When we got to the roundabout:
Dad: I think we should go left
Me: But the man said to go right!
Dad: But what if he hates English people?
OH. MY. WORD.
So, I convinced my Dad to go right, which turned out to be the right way, and then we drove around for another half an hour, because camp is very well hidden, and my map kept telling me to 'take next left 250 metres' which stopped existing after the first one. Seriosuly, google, just give up, stop lying!
We got there in the end, and I think my Dad was glad to be rid of me for a week, after the eventful journey...and I decided to leave my umbrella and wellies in the car, because it was sunny, and I didn't want to jinx it...any guesses for how that plan turned out?
Part 2 tomorrow...xx
Driving BACK to Wales, over the bridge.
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