Farewell summertime.

Now comes the dreaded melancholia of the summer that just went by. Yesterday I returned to the English mainland after five days on the quaint Isle of Wight, far from the picturesque postcard associations of the island, the weekend consisted for blustery winds that almost howled and taunted us, reminding us of the coming autumn. It's been a strange experience stewarding on behalf of a charity twice this summer, don't get me wrong, the experience has been somewhat enriching or rewarding but missing twenty four hours, a whole days worth of festival-ing and only gaining ethic satisfaction for it seems a little... disheartening. 

However Bestival was an exquisite showcase of colour and spectacle and if dare I say it an "aesthetically pleasing"festival. I shan't ruin this post trying to conjure up the correct sounds and language to narrate the story each day brought, the exhaustion and delirium of our tired feet but instead the fingerprints will remain raw and unkempt, expect some photography to accompany this post in a wee while.