It is Sunday morning. I have survived two full days and nights at the brilliant IOW Festival - Red Hot Chilli Peppers last night - Kings of Leon tonight the last night.
I woke up in my own bed this morning - unlike the thousands of campers on site who woke up in a little tent. I have used a clean and comfortable bathroom and had a lovely shower and cup of coffee. The hardcore festival goer will have made their way to a porta loo, had a wash down with a wet wipe and maybe a warm can of beer.
Thankfully I have a clear head this morning and am feeling pretty vital. Many festival goers will have been partying all night and be hungover or at least highly jaded.
So I am feeling pretty smug.
But am I?
Haven't I really missed out on the true festival experience - not really part of the collective of being knackered and partied out in a Lands End to John O Groats sort of way.
I haven't lived each Festival day as if it was my last. Shame on me - or well done for exercising some sense and control - ha!
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