Have finally arrived home as it were, after a seemingly hectic and inspirational 2 weeks since finishing exams.

Having traded my hutch for a little 3 person tent (lent to me very randomly at the last minute) in a lovely healing field near Glastonbury for the Santosa Bhakti festival, I spent my time being buffeted around by intense winds and rained on incessantly. I soon learnt – befittingly for a guinea pig – that bare feet was just the ticket for avoiding cold soggy extremities and undryable socks, and that the small dark teepee sauna was home from home, complete with the comforting smell of straw and hay (or was that my imagination creating creature comforts!)

Despite my initial hesitancy to the invitation from the wonderful Hari pyari, I agreed to subject other people to the guineapig experience by running for the first time, a  western beginners guide to the SAGEM musical scale system of Hindustani music and also facilitating some inner smile Taoist meditation. The heart warming affect of both did a lot to counteract the damp and chilly weather, as did the lovely food.

By Thursday though the weather was increasing in intensity. As I sat in my little tent late afternoon and it became like the inside of the nozzle of a hoover I feared for my life, having visions of a little tent complete with guineapig painting her nails inside, spinning off violently into the ether towards Glastonbury Tor.

Making myself stay inside for a good 40 minutes, I finally left to mooch around and wait for hot food sustenance in the main communal space, and Lo, as soon as food was done, and the gale warnings got more intense, and tents started being deconstructed, I got a suprise lift to Bristol. Just like that. Tent down and packed in ten minutes in the middle of an exciting and wet wet wet storm. The only thing that got blown off course being a pillow that mysteriously disappeared between Bristol and Paddington, I arrived back to London intact though damp clothed and still welly booted at some bewitching hour time.

Since then I have been yearning for the smell of wet greenness, muddy clods, persevering campfire flames, beautiful souled people, many outdoor kids, and the wonderful fierce wind, though the urban guineapig that I am is also greatful that the Santosa Bhakti festival was held in a field on top of a hill and that I could come home to the musical delights that London holds.