NB: I have maybe (definitely) taken some liberties with regards the 3rd person narrative of Omar Souleyman.
Friday, May 14th
7:20 am and the alarm on my N95 rolls into action, screeching at me to get out of bed. Only 6 hours earlier I was hearing about how the Red Baron shot down Nigel Farage's plane on the day of the UK General Election. With a mixture of excitement and great regret for being alive to the world this early I packed and set off on my 200-or-something mile car journey to the Western backwaters of Minehead.
The epic slog across the country, as I would later discover, paled insignificant compared to Omar Souleyman’s trip in the back of a U-Haul van all the way from Syria. One can only imagine how a man who showed no signs of speaking a word of English was invited to travel to play at Pavement’s festival.
Flopping out of the brave Nissan Micra like a tin of old sardines my friends and I set upon signing in and collecting our key cards for our rooms. …