I love festival Fridays. There's a delicious sense of anticipation in the air.
Out in the car park people are starting to arrive. I go out and see the queues - not too bad this year - and allow myself to realise that it's about to start again. In the festival village finishing touches are being made before the public are allowed in. There are always surprises: sometime during the afternoon an ice sculpture was delivered, a model of Jesus suspended in its spire.
Then during the afternoon the phone calls begin: friends who've arrived to enjoy the festival are checking in with me and wanting to grab a cuppa.
The tribe is gathering...
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