Bestival - yay!

Gawd, I'm late to the "I went to Bestival" bandwagon aren't I? It was only, er, about a month ago. Jeez Llara! What can I say? I'm a busy chick and I don't always have time to do the blogging.

Something else you should know about me is that, when I've had a few, I find it acceptable to pull this face in pictures...

Note the long since faded and very much past its best rainbow on my face. I'm obsessed with rainbows lately. We've had SO many recently in Edinburgh. Don't believe me? Check out my instagram @llarasnappedwhat (plug, plug).

So, once we'd made the journey to Southampton (taxi, flight, train, bus) ferry terminal, we hopped on the ferry. They had cider in the car park and everything, which was nice. Another thing you should know - not about me this time: it seems that everyone, everyone on the south coast owns a boat. Regardez (I can say that cause it's so close to France):

Boats, boats, boats everywhere!

And so to Bestival. It's an ace festival. A tiny bit big for my liking, if anything, but so visual and captivating and stuff going on everywhere. You could spend the whole weekend doing stuff that didn't involve seeing bands at big stages. Like...going to the cinema, starring in your own film, going on a helter skelter, climbing up the inside of an odd wooden house, watching the fancy dress parade, polka-ing to a crazy Romanian gypsy sounding DJ in the polka tent, mooching about the forest, tobogganing, shopping and generally filling your face with all kinds of delicious food. I love festival food these days!

Cinema | tents | swan on a stick, obvs | Africa bar | make your own blockbuster | amazing view across the festival

At night, the festival becomes so atmospheric with parties in what look like ramshackle houses, the smallest bar ever (in something resembling a garden shed), faux abandoned cars peeking out of mist and all kinds of other goodness!

All kinds of neon crap. By crap, I means AWESOMENESS. I climbed to the top window of the little house. How I didn't do myself a mischief, I do not know.

In spite of there being some huge acts at the festival (hello Stevie Wonder. Totally brill, as it happens), my favourite ones were Scroobius Pip and a random flamenco band with some guy Sadie Frost used to shag in it. Scroobius was just mesmerising and SO much fun. Ditto the flamenco band. We danced our asses off to those guys! Give me that lot over Florence and her wailing ear splitting machine any day! Sorry Flo fans...

Left: flamenco guys | middle: Scroobius Pip. I wonder if that's his real name | right: spooky shit.

Absorb the colour and strangeness...I'd like to hang glittery stars all over my house. I'm not sure how Mr Scribbler would feel about that.

And finally (cause everyone loves and 'and finally' story, right? Especially ones that involve small animals or local initiatives. This involves neither.), here I am promoting the ass off the schuh Welly Exchange in my specially-customised-so-as-to-maximise-warm-sun-on-pasty-Scottish-skin t-shirt. It was such a warm weekend. I miss the warmth.

Who's got orange glittery fingernails and a message for you guys? This gal!