Part IV – Have you been to the Vortex?

The lights among the trees brought them to life and suddenly there was an Ent in my midst. It had taken the form of my bearded friend Charlie and watched over my night like a guardian angel. I pirouetted through the moving bodies and vibrant colours and could feel my heart pulsating to the beat of the drum. I spotted a two-legged panda dancing from the top of the hill and raced to join him before he disappeared. It was the first time I’d danced with a panda. We tangoed before the main stage, a giant ark filled with musicians and acrobats, everything I imagined Cirque du Soleil to be and more. I recognised nobody and yet seemed to know everyone. As our feet pranced, the dust rose. Strobe lights punched lively silhouettes in the cloud formations. At the height of my euphoria the music suddenly stopped and the people scattered. I found some familiar faces and we returned to camp but it was clear they weren’t seeing the bigger picture. After eating a tube of toothpaste and having an interesting chat with a Mexican wrestler who had entered our circle, everyone went to bed. I looked to Charlie in the tree and we both agreed that sleep wouldn’t be happening tonight.

I wasn’t alone for long. Two stragglers approached wearing wide grins. The glint in their eyes told me we were on the same page. One rode a unicycle and the other was sporting a magnificent poncho. Have you entered the vortex yet man? God that made me laugh. They didn’t stay and chat but before I could follow them I overheard infectious giggles and spotted two girls behind a nearby bin in hysterics laughing. I waved at them and they waved back invitingly, but the closer I got, the further they seemed to drift.  These are small, but the ones out there, are far away. Was I losing it? An enormous sound rumbled through the tree-line commanding my attention and suddenly waves of paratroopers starting dropping over Charlie’s head. They were storming the beaches of Byron Bay. Didn’t they know this was a music festival?

Panic had descended upon me and yet still my friends hadn’t stirred. Like superheros in the dark of night, poncho man and his mate on the unicycle returned, but they seemed blissfully unaware of the apparent invasion. Have you entered the vortex yet man? Were these guys retarded? Before I could ask, the girls were behind the bin again giggling and waving deliriously. I ran to warn them of the attack but I couldn’t get in any way close and they laughed at my pitiful efforts. Maybe I am in the vortex, I thought.  Not knowing what else to do, I tried to escape into a deep sleep but every time I closed my eyes, my mind was tormented by cackles and the mantra of have you entered the vortex man playing over and over like a track skipping in my head. The plane engines were getting louder and soon the troops would be here. How could I sleep at a time like this? Tweety Bird! Thank Christ for that. Chirping a whimsical tune, he was a welcome distraction. Hang on John. Tweety Bird from Looney Toons? What had I taken? It finally became clear to me that my idea of reality had been compromised, but the little yellow bird continued to sing on regardless.

I sat for hours waiting for my friends to surface from their slumber, ignoring the questions of the vortex, the suspicious looking tree, the flapping of Tweety Bird’s eyelashes, the giggles of the girls and the impending invasion. My brain had gone to mush.  Slowly coming back to some sort of reality, the first thing I noticed was the Mexican wrestler mask strewn over a camping chair. The chats we’d had. I pointed out the water tank and lamppost that had created the Charlie mirage to a puzzled but equally honoured, human Charlie. It was all quite funny until I heard the jet engines all over again. But I thought I’d been hallucinating? I turned in terror only to find a skydiver performing a tandem jump out of a glider. Quite a popular activity for backpackers in Byron, you big eejit.  By all accounts, I was the picture of good health that morning. A face like a chewed up minty, a pal once remarked. As friends discussed the night before over cereal, I battled cartoon imaginings and inner torment. I had gone on an almighty journey of self-discovery and my memories, vividly intact, were undeniably unique. The journey had been mapped out on my tongue as The Roots played in the New Year, 2014. It was a free ticket I couldn’t refuse.