After panic attack inducing travel on an airline whose initials are D.E.L.T.A., I headed a bit north up to the first ever Wanderlust festival. This hippie fest was all about yoga and music all day long. Scary looking stilt people who looked like The Nightmare Before Christmas meets the Victorian era were there. Girls in crocheted bikini tops, dirty feet and scary toes, sweat, dust, frozen bananas, oooooohm.
Most of the extremists were gone by the time Andrew Bird made it onstage for the final evening. He sang a song called Sweet Matter that I think he might have said was for me if we'd had a chance to meet. Even more hula hooping fire breathing hippies left by the time the festival closer, Spoon, played. The music was great every show I saw. And all that yoga kept a lot of the bamboo pant wearing bud light drinking dreaded hippies out of the crowd. So essentially, they sponsored my easy front row placement. It was too easy to move all through the crowd.
Weird hippie magic, I think.
Andrew Bird was wearing Chaco's. It got around to everyone, like bird flu used to do.
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