Coachella 2012

 

After driving through Route 66 we headed back towards sunny California. On the way, it dawned on us just how quickly our quiet and serene days were about to transform into late night benders. With Coachella and Las Vegas next on our list, it was time to pack away those peaceful times and save them for another rainy day, for we were about to cross paths with old and new friends who were just as keen and eager to soak up good times as we were.

Coachella (a three day long music festival in the middle of the American desert) was one of those things you always dreamed of doing, you need someone to pinch you to remind you that it’s all in fact happening right in front of your eyes. We dropped by a place where a group of our friends were staying to drink and get ready with before we tackled day 1. We drank out of red plastic cups and shared thoughts on how we were going to persist under the desert sun. 

We walked around all day going from one stage to the next, watching performances we had always dreamed of seeing live, marking a shady spot under some tall palm trees as our meeting spot and looking at the mountains in the near distance as the constant reminder that we were in the middle of the desert listening to music with good company. Once the sun went to sleep, the night was filled with a cool breeze. Something I became very grateful for after a long day under the roaring sun. I knew at this stage how lucky I was that there were two more of these perfect days ahead of me.

Day 1 was all about learning the do’s and don’ts for day 2. Do drink more water and don’t go too hard too early. Knowing this made day 2 all the more pleasant. Kieran & I spent most of the day with two friends; Sam and Chris. Us four went on to have a day full of escapades running around and riding the Ferris wheel with drinks in our hands. 

Coachella had become a pattern. Get dressed, 10hours of festivity, bottles of wine, three hours of sleep, wakeup, a quick breakfast, get dressed, panadol and... repeat. With hardly any rest at all, it was awfully hard to greet day 3 with a sense of enthusiasm. If it wasn’t for the fact that they left all the best performances till that last day, I don’t think I could have survived. But once I had done all the whining and moping humanly possible that morning, I dug deep into my reserve tank and kept on truckin’. I then went on to have one of the best nights I am sure I will never forget. I woke up the next day, glad that I could finally have a days rest but sad that it was all over.

 
Pauline Morrissey

Pauline is a freelance writer and columnist based in Sydney, Australia.

https://www.paulinemorrissey.com
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