On Friday Jan took me along to a warehouse rave. There were three of us going at first, then eleven by the time we got out of the bar. After a night tram, a trip to the all-night petrol station and a good few sets of directions we found the place past a cluster of fire engines, down a stairwell and along a disused railway track. The rave was in the very dark warehouse basement, half filled with shady people with hoods over their heads. The sides were dotted with beer, herbal high, mushroom and “cake” stalls. The music was old school jungle and techno and was so distorted it often sounded like one single note with the potential to shake the building to dust. The only toilets were two unlit portaloos outside. It was fucking cool. I had a good dance and moreorless everyone else had some of that mystery brown powder they’re still calling “MDMA”. It was good for a couple of hours until Amanda started freaking out and we had to take her to the Clown and Bard and stop her running in front of things she thought were taxis. Stayed there for a while with her and Miriam, and also Derek, who was unable to stop talking like Hunter S Thompson.
The next day I found Ken and Virginia, who were visiting on a trip from Scumhampton. They were having a good one despite having come at the coldest time of the year with toothache. Had a meal in Radost FX then took them down to the Blind Eye, where we had beers and shots and socialised. Was a reasonable night, though everyone who’d been at the rave seemed only half there.
Sunday tried to watch Arizona Dream in the hostel while about 50 backpackers sang and screamed all around. Think I heard about four words in total.