| |
|
| It was Summer 1996, and I was 16.5 years old. I camped in the Lake District with about 200 other 15-21 year olds from Kent. Days were spent rock-climbing, hiking, reading other people's issues of Kerrang and Metal Hammer, bike-rides, that sort of stuff. The evenings were spent in the beer tent, or outside it with the goths (who all seemed to be from Pembury) and metallers (who all seemed to be from Medway towns) trying desperately to inappropriately headbang to whatever was playing. Music seemed to consist of Prodigy, Sepultura, Radiohead, Pantera, and that Lager Lager song (Born Slippy). At the end of the night, we'd throw our roll-mats onto the grass and look up at the stars. Everything was sort of hazy, for about the first time in my life, just because so much was happening, and there wasn't time to think about it. I had my first kiss with a guy who had long curly dyed red hair, lying next to him, in a tent, where 6 or so other guys were asleep. It seemed so tender at the time, and kissing has rarely seemed so delicate and magical since (even if he ignored me completely after about 2 days). I also remember going to Blackpool, and repeatedly going on the Pepsi Max Big One, where you can see the beach from the top. I'd left school that year, so it was my first long summer. |
|
|
) so ignored debts/parents and buggered off to Thailand/Vietnam for six weeks. Had intending to work/party/stay longer but *hated* the island scene, and in the event, spent alot of time in vietnam instead. Beautiful country.