By the time we had visited the medical centre in Lusaka and shopped for groceries it was dark. We two young females were immediately inundated by well-meaning cab drivers offering us a ride to Chisamba, where we would surely get mugged, for a whopping £150. Despite being tired and laden down like packhorses we opted for the local bus costing a much more reasonable £2.00. The campsite was at least 2km from the festival gates. The unpleasant prospect of dark unknown territory in our current state was sufficient to deter us from attempting the walk. We sat down to wait for anyone with a vehicle driving in that direction. We guessed it was twenty minutes before a lady in an empty white van was able to give some others and us a lift. At the other end we persuaded the other kind festivalgoers to help us carry some of our shopping, and to show us to the campsite. My fingers had lost all feeling and my back ached so we dumped our things in the first vacant spot. We set up tent rather sketchily in the dark, and ate some packet noodles before setting off, equipped with a torch, to explore the temporary city we had just become part of. We felt like festival virgins as we passed through the dark shopping street of stalls, tripping over tree stumps and stumbling into unseen dips. People were gathered round small fires at the base of many stalls forming a small circle of warmth and companionship. Then rounding the corner we were suddenly out again; into a small stretch of blackness before being engulfed once more, this time by the warmth and bustle of the bar; and just beyond that the loud unmistakeable heart-beat of the main stage. The main focal point and stage was built around a huge beautiful tree. Its arms reached high and wide into the sky as if to protect us and engulf us in the majesty of nature. Its trunk and branches were lit by bright green light creating a truly mystical natural and magical centrepiece. Trees, tepees, and U.V pictures bordered the dusty dance floor on which a few hundred people danced. A smile spread across my face, all tiredness forgotten I danced, all the journey’s tensions and frustrations released. I was woken by bright sunshine to find the tent like a claustrophobic oven. I struggled out of the tent having had to clamber over lots of camping junk. The day was beginning, people going to the showers and toilets. Water tap within easily accessible distance from our tent. I was embarrassed by the state our tent was in. The sandy or solid ground made keeping poles and pegs in, a difficult task. The pace of life at the festival was so relaxed that it took us three days to locate all the different parts. It made each day an exciting adventure. My journey to the festival can be recalled day by day as clearly as though it were yesterday whereas the time at the festival melds into itself to form large clumps of activities, the majority being days and nights spent dancing and only dancing, cooking and eating, sleeping and relaxing, mingled with neighbours and new found friends, and finally but not least the exploration of the festival. If you still felt like listening to music the Ambient tent with its Sonic the Hedgehog style roof was popular. Here was sexy funky music, a place to chat, and eat cheese toastees surrounded by low undulating tie-dye material, U.V rainforests and fairies and sawdust sacks to rest weary bodies. The psychedelic swimming pool, one of the main features that attracted me, looked like a huge concrete sheep’s dipping pen. As promised the high walls were decorated with psychedelic patterns sadly masked by a few days worth of murky brown water (not unexpected). Nevertheless still a much-enjoyed cold relief from the hot Zambian winter sun. To escape from the relentless techno thump was the chill-out area purposely out of the way and in a well-chosen spot behind the camping area. Three brightly coloured tipees formed the home and centre for workshops and lectures. Behind this a small area of shrub formed a truly mystical, cool and serene haven for many, now peaceful and rested hard core all-nighters. Along with the shopping street, these four areas provided all the functions necessary for everyday life. But with the added bonus of consistently fantastic weather and the brightly coloured friendly community, it felt extra special. The dawning of the 21st of June brought with it the climax of the festival, the reason we had travelled so far and endured so much. I was disappointed that there were no visible animals in the area whose reactions to the eclipse would have been interesting to watch. I had to make do with my imagination and the reaction of those and myself around me. The music abruptly ended at 1.30pm. People drifted away from the main stage to find their chosen spot. Some plotted in the middle of the field, and many on large sandy mounds (pyramid in appearance). The atmosphere was full of restless excitement and anticipation and all of a sudden we were engulfed in darkness during which the wind noticeably chilled, the sun began to loose warmth, didgeridoos were played, people yodelled amidst a quiet hum of chatter. Almost immediately cameras clicked, and a couple got married. Awe, wonder and celebration are the three words that spring to mind to describe the three and a half-minute solar eclipse. The festival maintained its momentum up until the 24th June. The parting of ways occurred earlier than I had anticipated; a neighbour left for Zimbabwe, a friend left on a homebound coach to Cape Town. The general feel was an end drawing near, as water supplies stopped suddenly leaving us parched in the heat, we had run out of money, and power failures brought about the premature ending of the music. On the evening of the 25th the festival music ended. I sadly missed the bed time lullaby of pounding beats. Daybreak brought a quick succession of homebound people and vehicles. Within these five days I had truly felt like a hippie child crouching in the dust, pounded by the hot sun, not having to worry about anything but surviving, on food, water, sleep and love and just being. Wherever you are, whatever makes up the environment in which you lead your daily lives, nothing compares or removes the lessons of simplicity, international human contact, and self-love learnt and engrained for ever at such a truly magnificent event. Written by Christine Southam.