We arrived in Benicassim slightly worse for wear, still feeling the affects of our massive night with the gang in Pamplona. Upon arrival at the Benicassim Festival campsite we were greeted by the most useless staff you could ever imagine. Trying to get directions to where the campervan section was, was like pulling teeth. Even the “information” booth had no idea. After many failed attempts at finding where we were to set up camp, we came across a security guard who finally knew what was going on. He pointed across the dry, baron, hot, dusty land to a wide open field and advised us that this is the campervan site. We had never seen a more desolate piece of land in our lives. Plant a few cactus and imagine tumbleweeds spinning over the ground and the
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