This weekend is the Reading Festival, a three-day event featuring loud music and attended by many thousands of people (mostly of the young variety.) We (by 'we' I mean DC & I since International Businessman has very cleverly arranged to be in The Land of Toberlerones while this is happening) have the dubious pleasure of living on the main route, both pedestrian and vehicular, to the festival site. Thus, upwards of 80,000 people will walk, stagger, ride, drive or be driven past our very front door over the next few days, including the festival-goers, the bands, the press, the stallholders, the touts, and anyone else who either likes music, performs music or can make a fast buck out of music.
This is the usual scene from our bedroom window (quite a panorama, eh?!)
Usual scene, but with addition of direction sign for Festival
Although the bands don't start performing until Friday, already we have witnessed the arrival of a fair few festival-goers, and the accompanying bandwagon that goes with them. Thus, our next door neighbour has set up a stall in his front garden and, along with some young pups from his church, has been giving out free non-alcoholic drinks - tea, coffee, squash - perhaps accompanied by a sermon on the evils of drink, drugs, and rock'n'roll.
A pikey fence builder then pulled up in the parking bay outside the house and attempted to sell firewood to the masses. Unfortunately for him, the undercover Council officers were out on the prowl and he was soon moved along.
And, of course, there are the ubiquitous touts, standing out like enormous sore thumbs, casually muttering 'Tickets, buy or sell' to anyone who passes by. Didn't get a snap of them, but there's plenty of time for that.
I'm mostly enjoying todays antics as I have been watching them from the comfort of my cosy home while outside it is raining. What other kind of weather would you expect for a Festival?