Holy crapola…has it been this long?
I think it must have been, I mean, the last entry date seems to be honest, I don’t remember trying to play an elaborate prank on myself. Ah well, let’s see if we can’t remember how this here blogging thing works shall we?
First of all…LW update:
I am still stupendously happy in Frankfurt, no mean feat for me….5 years and counting, and no plans to leave. I am considering calling Norris McWhirter
CW and I are still ticking along nicely and enjoying life. I think our life resembles a “Love Wanted” advert…we enjoy long walks, the cinema, sitting in the sun and drinking coffee and just chatting…
I bought a car, a nice BMW 320i…beautiful, that is until CW very kindly and lovingly points out that the 3 series is considered to be an Asbo car. Cue slight proudness removal (I still love it though).
Now here’s the thing. When you buy a car….unless you have a particular requirement….you tend to buy a car you want. Something that makes you happy when you think about driving it. The BMW 3 series has always been that for me. I looked at loads of them and finally settled on a beautiful 320i. High mileage (kilometerage??) but in absolutely mint condition. Obviously, living in Germany has the benefit of BMW being a little more available and accessible than, say, the UK. The likelihood of my being able to afford this particular car in the UK is pretty slim…so I grabbed the opportunity. The trouble with them being more accessible over here, is that a lot of people have them….specifically people of a certain social group…meaning that the car has a stigma associated with it.
I’ll be honest, this took a little bit of the sheen off the car for me…telling people about the car and having them ask “Are you going to get a tan and start wearing thick gold jewellery?” will do that to you I suppose. That was until I spoke to my folks about the car…and they were jealous. It’s the exact model that my Dad has lusted over for years..which reminded me that the car still has something going for it outside of Germany.
So, having driven 900 kilometers, I arrived at my Mum and Dads place …pride in my new vehicle restored. To be fair, the real reason was to have an amazing week with all 4 of my kids….the car thing was a nice bonus
Anyhoo, I should probably address the title of the post really.
Friday saw the birthday of TZ and the plan was to go to a music festival in Frankfurt. It was the opening night and full of Electro, Dubstep and other dance rammel. I will confess that, up until 2 hours before, I wasn’t going…especially when I “Youtube’d” some of the DJs that were playing. Still, CW persuaded me and I agreed on the grounds that I wasn’t expected to dance.
We arrive at the “Festival” a little after its scheduled start time and we probably should have been paying closer attention to a number of things…
- 2 people were leaving and chatting as we walked in…they said something along the lines of “What a waste of money”
- In the building, directly next to the festival area, was a table tennis party…
- We couldn’t see anyone milling about outside
- We said we would try and get in for ?5 instead of ?10…they agreed without any argument
- There was a tent that was advertising “Ethno Jazz” – Now, this tent was empty, having finished earlier in the evening…but still…wtf is Ethno Jazz?? Someone needs to explain that one to me
If you take any of those things on their own, you can be forgiven for going in anyway, but if you combine them…I forget why we were there.
Still, we had paid and had beers in hand, so we decided to stay…walking into the “Techno Room”, we see one guy dancing away quite happily (doing the UK wedding dance from what I could see). The girls immediately head onto the dancefloor and let loose for a little while. A few more people start arriving about an hour later and THAT is the moment when they decide to close down the better of the two “rooms”.
We all ended up outside, having a beer and a chat – It ended up being a really fun night….up until about 4am, when PW decides to have a go on a skateboard that was there…and knackers his Achilles in the process. CW and I took him to the hospital and got home at around 8am
This leads me to something else…for the first time, I am starting to feel my age. Years ago, I could finish work at 6pm, head out and not come home until 4am on Monday morning, get ready and go to work….and I would do that every weekend. I got home at 8am Saturday morning….and I am still tired now. I demand a stewards enquiry. Damn my ageing and frail body….damn it all to hell.
That’ll do for now methinks…more posts in, well, less than a year