Today I sit on the balcony of an old wooden queenslander - a staple of Australian domestic architecture - and I look out quietly over the Brisbane skyline. I’ve been sat here since sunrise watching the world wake from its slumber, soaking up the stillness of stifling twentyfive degree mid-winter heat and I’ll probably do the same tomorrow and the day after that as well.
Within a moment the cold air of the previous night evaporates as the new morning pours across the city below. In front, a slight whitish haze sits atop the towers and skyscrapers of Brisbane city which merely adds to the dreamy image of the morning. A lively bird of some sort swoops low and distracts my attention and as the crisp aroma of wood, dew and coffee mingle in the air, it seems like my feathered friend and I are the only two awake just yet. My view is framed by green palm trees and tropical leaves of sorts that illuminate golden in the warmth of the first morning sun. And the air is absolutely still. Eventually the sounds of the opening of doors and the creaks of sleepy, heavy footed steps along the terrace welcome in the day and as fellow travellers grumble their way into their hospitality jobs still I remain sitting, watching. It hasn’t always been this way of course and if you’ve kept up with me since London then you’ll be well aware that I possess an inherent itch to always keep moving, always do something - anything to keep both my mind and body occupied. So what’s changed? Well by now I have of course slunk into a deeply focussed saving mode as the promise of future adventures begin to dawn on me. On top of this, the chilled out city is a great place to save such money because there really isn’t much else to do. But what has really left me glued to my seat today is the slow realisation that it has nearly been a year since I left England and rather than wanting to make every minute count (which of course I do) it has become clear that there is far more to travelling than activities and alcohol. Right now I don’t live in my future. Right now I sit here and embrace the sights, smells and sounds of a moment in a life and I’m pretty sure it will be such crystal clear images that remain etched in my mind. As I sit here I think of the decisions that have brought me to this very moment and I remain content, smug almost, that I have made it so far. And so I truly believe there is an importance in the idleness and boredom of lazy days when it comes to being away from home. Adventure is great but along the way I am carefully creating a picture book in my head of the everyday images that frame this journey, the spaces in between the lines of my journal - and regardless of what you are doing today you should stop and do the same. Appreciate just a single moment a little more than usual.
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Splendour In The Grass Festival 2017
The seven day hangover has finally kicked in as today I finally swap my K-mart tent for the comforts of a bed for the first night after the hazy, sunshine-filled cloud of Splendour In The Grass 2017. And what a week it’s been. The festival is Australia’s version of Glastonbury or Coachella and though small in comparison (with just 30,000 people amidst the backdrop of Byron Bay) it attempts wholeheartedly to live up to the standards of it’s larger brothers. So as a festival veteran myself let’s do a roundup of the festival and see what the general opinion was. As the crowds rolled into the dusty North Byron Parklands last Wednesday and security confiscated copious amounts of goon from the most unassuming and creative of hiding places, the entire festival was certainly raring to go in the 25 degree heat. We’re talking glitter, garish costumes and even a guy wearing nothing but an Ikea Bag (who surely must have lost a bet). Of course what quickly becomes apparent here is that you can’t bring in alcohol even to the campsite (due to Australia’s strict licensing laws) but with the prospect of a dry week and expensive bar prices this didn’t stop EVERYONE trying to sneak something in. It was then down to Sampa the Great to welcome the increasing crowds to the Mix-Up Tent in an electric performance on Thursday night. As she performed to a packed out crowd we also sensed relief as believe me it was colder than a Melbourne winter night. And so, alongside Mansionair and the backdrop of a cozy tent we welcomed in what was set to be a hazy yet memorable weekend. Though the music had kicked off across a number of stages and the sun beat down on an ever tanning crowd, when you weren’t curing your hangover with a breakfast beer it was down to the Arts & Crafts Tent or the Science Area. Here they held lectures, encouraged creativity and offered ways to actually step away from the sweaty stages. To welcome in the sounds of Saturday Brisbane locals Hockey Dad saw their drummer masterfully complete a shoey mid-set at the amphitheatre and we caught some etheral sounding vocals ffrom Middle Kids at GW McGlennan Tent. Both acts, of course have now paved their way for later set-times and bigger stages in years to come.This was followed by an eclectic afternoon crowd at Bag Raiders in a scorching tent, who managed to make even the oldest stubby drinking man channel his 18 year-old inner teen girl for the closing anthem Shooting Stars. Making their debut only last year, there was no surprise that Confidence Man absolutely smashed their performance yet I found it a shame that they weren’t given a later performance time like they deserved. This too goes for English DJ Romare, who stepped away from his more classic hits to a pumping set and an emptier afternoon tent than was deserved. It was as if something clicked and immediately the temperature had dropped about 20 million degrees, seeing many people sprint back to their tents to pile on the layers - yet I shared a deep respect for anyone who stuck out the cold thanks to their alcohol-intake. The evening was set to welcome British indie kids Two Door Cinema Club and they weren’t going to disappoint as the crowd plunged into retrospective teenage angst. Though legends Queens of the Stone Age were very much anticipated,and held a crowd of die-hard fans with a great set once unfortunately the bass of the natural amphitheatre proved stifling - almost as if someone had turned down the volume for bed time (ogddamn you licensing laws!) By Sunday the five day comedowns were really starting to show and the shower queues were a good few hours long. But aside from a few lonely revellers clearly tripping mid-day, Client Liason was next on the cards and left everyone talking about their amazing music. Bishop Briggs also certainly cemented her place as a regular at Splendour after this year, her first performance as the anticipation of the final night became all too overwhelmingly exciting. The final night even saw frost on the ground - I mean, real fucking cold to the bone frost and people wrapped in sleeping bags watching acts but that served as a great incentive for our British acts (more accustomed to such weather) to keep the party going. Enter Stormzy, who I actually went to see out of irony but left feeling a solid fan or ‘fam’ should I say. I was surprised that grime had made such an in print in Australia as the whole crowd skanked and struggled to understand his South London colloquialisms and up the ante for the much anticipated Bonobo. For me, the best act of the festival was headliner Bonobo as we all cozied up in the Mix-up Tent amidst colourful strobes, a heavy bass, supporting artists and a mix of his classics such as Cirrus and newer works that nonetheless will grace the nightclubs in months to come. A quick run to the amphitheatre saw us catch LCD Soundsystem in all their glory, and though the bars had run out of beer at this point, it was only the start of a pumped-up night at the tipi forest rave, brushing shoulders with artists and people wired off their tits alike. Of course this barely touches the surface of what a week we have experienced at Splendour in the Grass 2017 and I also must admit that some of it might have been forgotten due to being pleasantly drunk on contraband alcohol. What did stand out for me at Splendour was a strong community vibe and a happy attitude despite a number of large hills you had to hike to get to the Ampitheatre and a bloody long walk even from the campsite. There was a vast security appearance amongst sniffer dogs and people being wheeled off to be arrested for possession left, right and centre (there were even two temporary arrests in my group of campers) but that didn’t stop the fun. There was good food, cheap tobacco and interesting art installations to keep you occupied amidst the acts. So if you see anyone looking a little worse for wear but also obviously more tanned than you possibly could get in the depths of a Melbourne winter - it’s cool you don’t have to have sympathy for our tender states however - we certainly had an epic week. But the verdict from a festival veteran like myself is a little more mixed than I’d hoped. Splendour in the Grass is big, it’s warm, it’s fun and the artists that I saw will be etched in my memory for a long time … but this has nothing on Glastonbury. Lock out laws and an early bed time of 2am leaves this festival slipping into the more mainstream category than its foreign counterparts. And British Festivals remain on top once again. |
Tamara DavisonNepal, China, Malaysia, Australia, Argentina. Archives
November 2017
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