You wake up covered in dust and sweat, your tent's like an oven, your mouth's dry, your stomach's rumbling. You peer out of your tent, only to be blinded by the too-bright sunlight bouncing off a near-white landscape. You crawl out and stumble, squinting, towards an apparition on the hill. You think you hear Robert Johnson, crooning in empathy with your plight. Is that the smell of pancakes cooking?
Don some big sunglasses, creep into the shade, kick back in a deckchair and be soothed by the blues as you wait for your order at the Breakfast at Noon bar. What? You forgot to order? It's cool, we got you covered.
We need:
– a shade structure that lets the breeze through. Some sort of open-sided marquee would be ideal. I'm gonna do some investigating, but let me know if you've got any ideas.
– deckchairs. I think 10–15 would be ok, but if everyone could bring one we'd be laughing.
– sunglasses. You know how it is: you're hungover and all you want to do is hide behind some mighty shades. If people can bring spares to donate to the 'Noon bar, I'd be a happy gal.
– camp stove, kettle and frying pan.
– coffee plungers and coffee
– blues music. Make up a few compilation CDs to add to the mix. We also need a sound system. I'm thinking of the coffin we had at the Brighton burn. Anyone know how to contact those guys?
– pancake mix and a few waiters and waitressess to volunteer each day.
BYO plates and cups, bad moods and favourite hangover cures.
If you can help make this happen, please put a comment at the end of this page. Thanks! /Jesse Car