General ambling for a while saw us take in some improv music in the healing field (Barry The Box again, this time with a sitar-player and violinist), checked out the stilt walkers (including Kate's former neighbour Lucy and Theo's former mentee Lewin) and an excellent bout of tag mud-wrestling.
We watched Miss Cecily, another Bristol band play at the Solar Stage, then wandered back to the van for some R'n'R, which involved a hefty dram of the port we'd acquired while visiting the Ferreira HQ in Portugal. Well, we might be in southern Spain, but it gets damn nippy at night in those mountains. This was purely medicinal.
Back on site again and as we settled into watch the much-touted Los Deliquentes (who were very good, it must be said), the all-too-familiar sound of rain pattering on canvas was heard overhead. We could scarcely believe it, this is what we came to escape!
In the end, the chill in the air and general dampness saw us heading to the dance arena, where we eventually pitched up in a tent full of green laser-light and techno. There we both became ever more ebullient, befriending a couple of Spanish guys, Diago and Manuel (and managed to fix up Manuel with Ayesha - score!) and a French girl called Bem. We also spent much time hugging numerous other festival chums who came to join in, including Fran and Pete, Extremely Tall Sham and Matt the fence-jumper-turned-wristbanded-performer.
Eventually, the effects of the beer, the shots of neat rum and gawd-knows-what-else took their toll on our sense of balance and co-ordination, so I figured (Theo was too far gone to make the decision at that point) it was time to have a cup of tea and get vertical. It was almost six by the time we got back and settled down. It had also been the best night of all at The Rocket.
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