Roy Moller on the Church stage. I can hear the "wah wah wah" line, that I've heard countless times before, drifting across the train yard as I make my way to a train at the platform.
"Are you going to Butterly?"
"Erm, yeah. Hop on"
Its a personal train service, like a free taxi, but its a train, all of my very own.
It was supposed to be a five minute job, nip back to my car, find an off liscense, get in the rum and tonic, drive round to the festival car park, catch the end of Roy's set.
But I got lost, it took me two hours.
Stuart, if there was a map on the back of the program, I would been able to review about five more bands than I have done.