NEAR MIDDAY Darius and Kathy found us.
Then Joseph. Then Sam, rested and unrepentant. We caught up, and I heard they had found Tim, Darius telling the story.
"You know how he's been trying to get with Sandra? Well he finally sold her the idea they could create this big "Millennium memory” and that's where they went, the nuttas. They didn’t even wait for the countdown to finish."
“I guess your first time rolling . . .”
“Maybe, but I’m glad it wasn’t my tent, the dirty olds. They're back there now probably still at it. And Tim reckoned on their way they got interviewed by the news!”
“Yeah. He said they were out doing a piece on the celebrations.”
We pictured this: pictured all that could go wrong with giving your views to the country whilst E'ed up for the first time . . . and horny. We laughed loud and long. But Tim came across like a boss, like an electronic warrior of the Shaky Isles, and his and Sandra's was the longest clip they played on the news that night.
Evacuation of the entire site had even been considered, but civil defence didn't have the protocols for moving thousands of spangled and coming down ravers off the top of a remote, waterlogged hill.
So, blissfully ignorant of how close it all came to ending, the hard core were allowed to stay on.
We got our second night on the Downs.
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