"Radagast, it's their local beer"
I take a sip. It was kind of watery but it definitely had alcohol. It had started to rain during the Future Islands concert and now Theo and I looked like two piñatas with all the confetti from the confetti cannons stuck to our wet clothes. Well, two piñatas drinking beer.
We dumped our bags at the campsite and basically ran all the way to the festival in time to catch Future Islands since they were the opening act. It was an asthmatic blur of roads, bushes, a highway, a bridge, a strategically placed billboard protesting against abortion (in Czech) and finally the entrance to the pit itself.
I found it marvellous, the pit and the Tower. There were corridors of metal shooting out of its sides, elongated long houses which stood on stilts. Nothing was at a right-angle, of course.
When the show started it was just a handful of us at the front but now there was a proper crowd of people pressing against our backs. I don't know when a crowd of people grows so large that it doesn't become a collection of people any more but just a mass of humanity. I would say it's probably between two hundred or six hundred. And I finally understood the saying, 'a sea of people' because the way the crowd followed the contours of the pit and the surrounding area really made it look like a viscous, heaving liquid of humans.
The sun was setting and cutting through the pipes and tumours of the Tower. Like a video played in reverse, the sea spilled up and over the pit and streamed the into Tower's shadowy recesses. We followed, Radegasts in hand.