Anyway, we went to sleep comfortably, preparing ourselves for the days ahead. On August 14, 15 and 16, me and Gen were at Lowlands located in a village called Biddinghuizen in the Netherlands. Line up included: Glass Animals, Vance Joy, Flume, Disclosure, Duke Dumont, Boy and Bear, Jungle, XXYYXX, Chet Faker, Gesaffelstein, Snoop Dogg, Die Antwoord, Shlomo, Kaytranada and Cashmere Cat.
I had previously ordered tickets to a bus that would take us straight from the train station to the festival. Gen and I left with our backpacks, rushing around, doing errands before the bus came. Eventually we made it to the bus station. As I poured 4 litres of vodka from glass bottles into plastic bottles, we waited for the bus. Then I finished doing that, and we were still waiting. Then we waited some more. After an hour, we decided we should check where the bus was, maybe we were in the wrong spot. Gen went to call the bus company, the conversation that occurred was as follows:
Gen: Hello, I am waiting for the bus to Lowlands, I'm just wondering whether it's late?
Guy who answers phone: The bus was yesterday.
After finding another means of transport, me and Gen got on the train to Lowlands, it turns out it was a lot less difficult than we thought it was going to be. We spent the train ride talking to two guys who I can only describe as Pain and Panic from Disney's Hercules. But they were cool dudes. We went to pick up our "recyclable tent" as the company likes to call it, or as we liked to call it, a giant garbage bag. Made from plastic, I'm surprise the tent didn't just blow away in a storm. Me and Gen set it up and poked about 50 holes in it in the first five seconds. After our tireless effort, we decided to have a nap. Neither of us owned working phones at the time, so we had no way of telling the time. Eventually, I woke up to the sounds of "holdin' on...holdin' on" and I screamed at Gen that we had to run quick because Flume was on, in my delirium I was very excited about this, when in reality I don't really like Flume that much. But his set was good. Anyway, then we decided that 5:30pm was appropriate time to get drunk and that is exactly what we did. Along the way, we met our friend Hein, who insisted that we were "real rock n roll chicks." Duke Dumont was also that night, he might have been my favourite set.
The next day, I am so severely disappointed in us. We slept until the afternoon, until we decided that we should go see XXYYXX. We hung out with some people from the tent to us, and I spent the entire time puzzled as to why none of them were wearing pants. Then Gen and I tried to watch Chet Faker but the amount of people with beards standing in the crowd made me uncomfortable and so we had to leave. We then returned to our tent and laughed ourself into a nap. I told Gen we needed to wake up at 8:30 because I wanted to see Gesaffelstein. Later on that night, I awoke. I crawled out from underneath bits of plastic flaps and looked to the people in the tent next to us.
Katie: Hey, hi. Sorry. What's the time?
Rando guy: 1:30
Katie: Is that... 1:30pm?
Rando guy: No...the sky is...dark... it's 1:30am.
Katie: Oh, FUCK
After we totally fucking WASTED a WHOLE DAY, we were determined to put on our "yolo" hats and go hard. But first, lettuce get a kebab for breakfast (as seen in picture.) This is where Gen was spotted by a "style expert" from fucking teen VOGUE (or some shit I can't actually remember the website) where the lady asked to take a photo of Gen's outfit and I literally spat out my food and screamed with laughter since she had bought that outfit from Primark and had been wearing the same thing the entire duration of the festival. Update: unfortunately, Gen didn't make it to the website. I would have like to have shown the picture.
That afternoon, I had the pleasure to see Snoop Dogg aka Snoop Lion. And by see, I mean stand about a kilometre away and look at him on the big screen. But as he emerged from behind a cloud of smoke from the joint he was smoking, wearing a bucket hat and bopping to California Love, I lost my shit. Also, Die Antwoord are still the coolest people in the world, Yolandi makes me proud to be a tiny blonde albino. And then, the rest of the day is lost. Next thing I remember doing is regaining consciousness during Kaytranada's set about 10 hours later. Go hard or go home, am I right?
We did have video evidence of everything that happened, but again, more on that later.
We let the sun rise, then crawled back into our plastic bag. At what I thought was mid afternoon, I forced Gen to get up and leave the festival straight away. The festival the day it finishes is never fun. Seeing flattened grass from where tents used to be and the disgusting amount of rubbish left on the ground, it's a buzz killer if I ever saw one. We looked at our tattered piece of plastic tent, that if you return at the end of the festival, you get 15 euros back. We took a look at what it had become, and said a big "fuuuck that" and practically ran away from the festival. Post-festival-depression is a real, debilitating illness that should be taken seriously. Experience the worst hang-down ever, me and Gen SOMEHOW organised a train to Paris that night.
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