island festivities

setting the scene

there are no pictures with this post. because frankly i choose there not to be.

been to like carol concerts, musicals in london because your mum forces you and the odd dingy night out in newcastle. but not quite a festival. so the isle of wight has a festival. a bunch of middle-aged people in a field - at various stages of sober.

pre-amble to the festival

friday afternoon. you know those beautiful summer evenings. just strollin’ down by the riverside. the music’s poppin’ birds flutterin.’ in me little festival get-up. baggy berghaus t and england shorts - that on any other day i wouldn’t frankly wear. that said today’s the day. it is the isle of white. anyway, we’re en route. bouncing along. feeling groovy. swivel my head right. holy shitmas. dr weather is right there. dr weather! the guy that just resigned. ‘doctorx, come have a drink’ ‘just one drink’ - with a rye smile. pop along to the bar. and bang dr kharma is there! dr weather and dr kharma. hang on a minute. ‘i’ll be outside in a minute,’ - trying to utterly contain my excitement. in an instant - i peer outside and realise its just them. fuck it - three rounds of tequilas and double the beers please.

the pub

the alcohol’s swirling. dr weather and dr kharma are spouting their usual. workplace politics - not much has changed. the island - not much has changed. beers with your seniors - okay that has changed. but as usual - these consultants love to dish out the old advice so the natural question is - right ‘doctorx, what you planning to do after next year.’ ‘one year - not two years new zealand - then rural gp with palliative care - 30 minute appoints - all work-life balance.’ speech over. dr weather takes a sip. dr kharma’s blurts ‘well you better become the best gp of all-time.’ dr weather knows i’m leaning away from hospital - not because of skillset - because frankly my skillset is more instinctive, high-energy, algorithmic rather than reasoner, deductive and pragmatic - but i just want to enjoy life and the enjoyment i get from all my sports. ‘right you have a bmi of 6. just keep running,’ - dr weather signs it off.

the festival

i dash out. up the hill to the festival. i believe onerepublic’s on stage. tempted to go full-on gazelle but it turns more into a camel-like waltz - a picture of my running style. get in and i’m hot. i’m royally bev’d. next stop. bar. £27 bottle of wine. £10 can of strongbow. easiest decision of all time.

the next day

next day i’m up. look down at my phone. a message from huw - ‘you good my guy?’

yo aria, how do you clean a carpet?

the next week

post-game discussion at lunch with the festival-goers. my man’s like - ‘do you remember what you said’ - you were like ‘huw, you’re a top decile guy!’ i still cannot believe i managed to get home without injury or loss. however, i can believe i said that huw is a top decile guy. ‘wait you called me top centile’ - chirps sai. ’no i did not, sai.’

later that week - sai got absolutely violated on the sailing group chat. please visit here for more details..