Now don't get the title of this blog confused with the 80's alien type program with the same name (which has now been subject to a remake by the Americans, which I don't think has done too well as it's now on Channel 1 (Virgin to you and me)). Its reference to V-Festival which is a yearly event attended by the masses.
So, after months of arranging the weekend of all weekends, it finally arrived. We were going to V... We got there, did the necessary; including unpacking, tents put up and then the shenanigans began.
We took a trip down to the arena and after consuming copious of alcohol, we returned to the campsite. I had the bright idea of going to the loo. Now we had all made an observation that there was a massive white tee-pee type tent by ours so that if we did get lost this would be our beacon. So, off I go to the loo and then I make an attempt to return to base camp!
I was walking for what felt like a good five minutes. Now, it was then that I realised that I had gone past base camp and was in fact lost. I did the rational thing of calling everyone for assistance. However, this failed as no-one answered their phone so I was on my own.
I'm no Bear Grylls and you have to imagine that there are thousands of tents, its pitch black and I have no clue as to where I am or where all of my friends are. This is paired with being fairly drunk so luck wasn't on my side. So I do the thing that all people do when they're lost...PANIC!
I then step up my pace but this was hindered as all of these tents had their guide-ropes secured. Thus meaning that with every step I took, I was taken out but one of the thousands of guide-ropes in my path. There was only one thing for it...I cried! Not just a sob but full on tears, snot and noise!
I noticed that throughout my journey of despair there were platforms located in the campsite with letters and numbers on; presuming this was for people like me, lost that is and not noisy criers; I took note of the platform where I was....T28.
I tried to call one of my friends again and this time was successful. Through all of the sobbing, tears, snot and noise I was making he kinda made out where I was... "I'm at T28", told me to stay there was he was going to come and get me.
So, what did I do? I kept on walking, falling over the guide-ropes, crying, making loads of noise and generally feeling sorry for myself. Then, all of a sudden he appeared. Now, I thought I was going to get loads of sympathy what with the intrepid journey I had just been on...how wrong I was. He was laughing hysterically!
He then leads me around the tent I was I standing behind...and there....were all my friends!
I stupidly thought I was going to get lots of tea and sympathy...how wrong was I?? They all commenced in fits of giggles and crys of "I'm lost at T28" and even another made up a song re be being lost.
Moral of that story: Don't get lost on a camp-site and then give your location as T28, as you never live it down!
