Happy New Year!

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Tired doesn't even cut it. Not even close. Am literally uber-exhausted. Still, good news is that I'm up early to go to an all day musical festival, 'Field Day', in 30+ degree blazing sunshine. Balls....

I was so excited about this day when I booked the ticket but now fear that my presumption that 'I'll be OK, I'm not drinking New Year's Eve' may have been vastly wrong, mainly because I'm not bloody young anymore. I can no longer survive on less than 6 hours' sleep, therefore when I've only got 4 hours in for the last two nights, I'm close to breaking point. I feel terrible, my eyes are itching, my breathing's wonky (time to dose up on the antihistamines and inhaler puffs) and I can't be bothered to go anywhere. But the 140 dollars I paid for my tickets are forcing my hand...

The good news is that I get to see Paulina, who I haven't seen since Monkey Mia a couple of months back, and Emma, if she ever answers that bloody phone of hers. It's back to the Botanic Gardens that I go, armed with rice crackers, Doritos, a banana, two little chocolate bars and a bottle of water. I know how to party...

I met Paulina outside and we headed to the gate. Security everywhere - though I figured I'd nothing to be afraid of, seeing as I had no alcohol, no glass, no nothing today, bar the picnic mentioned above. Fail. Today's mini-Hitlers are not allowing anything edible or imbibable (not a real word I'm sure but I like it - Oxford English Dictionary, take note) through the gates. I poured my unopened, 4 dollar bottle of mineral water furiously over the grass, and ditched my crackers, crisps and banana in the bin. Paulina, being the frugal soul that she is, scoffed her sandwich and downed her drink at the gate - nothing went to waste! We managed to smuggle in the chocs and some biscuits, so all was not lost - but quickly ate them when it became apparent that security all around us was checking for contraband, alcohol or otherwise.

The scene is pretty good - one main stage, two smaller stages, a few eateries, a couple of bars (selling excruciatingly expensive drinks), and a free water station (which I'll be making the most of). It's relatively quiet when we first arrived but it quickly filled up to the point where there was almost standing room only. We perched under a tree, where I decided to bemoan the fact I couldn't reach Emma. 'Knowing her, she's sitting right behind me', were my final words on the subject. We turned around. She was. Unbelievable! So our two little gangs sat together and slated Emma for her lack of phone answering skills for a while, before sitting back to enjoy the day.

Calvin Harris, Example and DJ Wire amongst others were playing. However despite my tiredness, I was holding out for Gotye. If you haven't heard of him before, Google him, iTunes him, hunt him down because he is fantastic. I'd heard amazing stuff from the guys in Perth about his gig, and that's what sold me the ticket to come today. That and the fact that his recent song, Somebody that I used to know, is all over the radio here and it's our travelling anthem. He wasn't on until 5.40pm though - a pretty long wait when you have chronic hayfever, desperate tiredness, and feel like you want to scratch out your eyeballs. Still, I persevered!

We had a spot under a big tree to take the edge off the glaring sun. There were lobsters in human form all around. Scarlet and sunblock free, they were drinking to their heart's content. One guy passed out under a tree, only for security to turn up and throw him out. And they guy that threw him out looked like he'd been injecting steroids into his biceps for 20 years - his arms were wider than my waist, and that's a bloody achievement in my book. Forget looking like he was carrying rolls of carpet under each one, the man looked like his elbows were horizontal to his shoulders. And he had legs like toothpicks, which were doing remarkably well to hold his enormous upper body. Guys stood and stared in amazement - one walked up to him to ask how he'd achieved such a look. Turned out to be the worst move he made all day - he breathed his clearly-smuggled-as-not-on-sale whiskey breath over Mr Big Arm, who then invoked the powers of stop and search to remove and pour onto the ground all the contraband he'd brought in...

The girls and boys danced by the now-packed stage and I sat under the tree guarding the bags, too tired and old to move. I watched the side show of people being kicked out, including one guy in his 50s kicking and punching the police on his way, with his wife and friends following behind him begging him to stop. This was less than 2 hours after the festival opened - it would have cost them over $500 to be there in ticket costs alone. Dog house, if not the court house, surely followed...

Gotye was worth the wait - outstanding set, shame it was only 50 minutes long but brilliant.

Apparently there were over 100 arrests and charges placed for, mainly, drugs offences, which was unsurprising given the wrecked state of so many. I did well to last until 6.30pm - at which stage I bid a hasty retreat immediately following the Gotye set and back to the sanctuary of Bondi. The beach at 7.30pm was still inch to inch packed. The sun was still blazing. I'm so lucky to be here and it's made me realise I don't want to leave Sydney. I'm going to have to squeeze another week in here somehow. Melbourne looks like it might just be a flying visit all of a sudden...

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