So New Wine was great. Camping in fields so dry that any rain was completely absorbed by the parched earth, disappearing without trace and making it possible (if your blog name is Little Fish) to roll all over the field again. A vast tented city with the bonus of hot and cold food and solid shelter always available. Lots to do, lots to see, plenty of people.
But something was missing.
And yesterday, as I stood in the pouring rain, having given my coat to a Nigerian Guide who was camping without one, incinerating fish in newspaper, baking cakes in oranges, and stirring embers under cheesy chips; watching myself turn from pinkish white to ash and mud coated grey and brown, the thick smutty smoke seeping into my hair and eyes, the rain gently soaking through my shirt and running down my back, dripping gently into my jeans, I stood back and thought "Ah yes, I remember now."
On balance, I think I could carry on missing it quite happily.