When I look back on June there is one major event that remains the pinnacle of the month. I wonder if you could possibly guess what event this could have been? A certain music festival, in Spain perhaps? As much as I have milked my trip to Primavera Sound for all its worth, I do seriously consider it deeply significant in more ways than one. Not only was it pretty much the perfect line-up for me, but I also have a strong feeling of there being a divide between life before, during and post-Primavera. I am fully aware of how dramatic that sounds, because after all, it is just a silly little festival, right? Be that as it may, I have spent the last few weeks reflecting on life more than ever and I truly think that in one way or another, Primavera was the catalyst for it all.

I think one of the main reasons it feels so significant, is that it was a holiday and a festival all rolled in to one, and something I had been looking forward to for the best part of six months. Life had been all about wading through the mundane every day before jetting off to see my favourite bands miles away from home. Once in Barcelona, it almost felt like time stood still and I was in a different world entirely. Again, coming in strong with the dramatics. I guess it was just so far from my every day that it felt almost unreal and looking back on it now, certainly feels like a lifetime ago, if not a dream. What can I say, I love music, sunshine and sangria. I suppose I can’t ignore the company. While I went out and stayed on my own, I kept in touch with my old uni mate Matt, his fiancé Holly and their friend James who I met for the first time on the trip. Friends old and new, it absolutely made a difference knowing that even if I did pop out to the city on my own, at least one of them would be about to see the sites with me, whether it was Gaudi’s finest or simply the Uniqlo store. Whether you have known someone for years, months or days, I feel like there is no denying that spending time together on a trip and at a festival certainly forges bonds like no other. It might not be that you keep in touch constantly after, but I would definitely say that screaming your heart out to Chappell Roan brings people closer together.

This did not really click with me, however, until the moment I went to say my goodbyes on the last day, and it resonated with me during that following week off at home. The last full day in Barcelona saw us dining in a tapas bar, throwing our last euros away on tiny plates and gigantic glasses of sangria and strawberry mojitos. We then stopped for an ice cream, before having our final drinks near the Sagrada Familia. It was pure bliss and the most heart-warming way to round off the trip, certainly just what the doctor ordered to soothe the post-Primavera aches and pains. As I set off to my hotel, it hit me hard that it would be back to the real world soon; my friends back to Southampton, while I would be on my way to Ramsgate. I am not really sure I was ready to leave. It felt like an absolute shift, being back on home turf and away from the group of people I had spent my last few days with. It was as if something big had changed and all I can pin it down to is the double bubble burst of post-holiday, post-festival blues. I had, quite rightly put so much hype on the trip, that it felt like there was a huge hole in my life once it was over. One of the things I have been thinking about is how I pride myself on my independence; going to gigs alone and taking myself on days out. Which I think is good to do to an extent, but there is something to be said for remembering to reach out. At what point do you stop becoming an independent woman and start subconsciously isolating yourself from the pleasure of company? Not to get too deep on the blog but I have to admit, this is a balance I have not quite found myself satisfied with lately. That is not to say I feel alone or lonely, I know my friends and family are there, fortunately in abundance, I just sometimes need reminding that they too might be available for a walk down to the beach or a trip to the shops, even a quick coffee. It sounds so silly when I put it into words, because of course I know this, I am just too lax in forward planning, and then too quick to head out the door when I feel like it, without so much of a thought of who else might be around. That sense of community at the festival, from my friends and strangers alike stuck with me like a moment lost in time, and I think that played a huge part in the post-Prima funk I felt those few days after. The sheer exhaustion saw me withdraw to life as a hermit, almost forgetting that the sense of community and togetherness is always out there, just as long as I pay it some attention.

It is not all doom and gloom though. While the blues took their toll for a moment, that post-fest high soon returned to make me all the more grateful for going out and doing something that I have wanted to do for years. Let’s take a moment to revel in the fact that it is an opportunity I gave myself. I bought myself the ticket. I arranged my hotel and flights. Having too often said I would love to do x,y,z and mostly never seeing any of it through, this was the most self-indulgent treat I have ever given myself. Spending time with a lovely group of people (as well as bumping into Kiwi, another uni pal from back in the day) tied it all together, but it just goes to show that what you put out, you will get back.

At one point in the trip, I was so tired I decided I wouldn’t bother sticking around for Wet Leg, one of the bands that had been hot on my list to see. I played it off by saying “oh well I will see them another time”, knowing in the back of my mind that I may well never bother to make it happen. However, with the high of Primavera lingering in the air, as soon as I saw they were playing a small show in Camden, I made sure that whatever the cost and whatever the deal with work, I would go. Fortunately, tickets were cheap, and I get flexible work hours, so although I had to go on the waitlist twice to get tickets (one for me and one for my dad as a newfound fan of the band), getting it all booked was in fact no hard task at all. It was a small win, but not only did I get the tickets, I stuck to my word and made up for what I had lost out on. It is one of those things that is not really a big deal in the grand scheme of things but reminded me of the simple pleasures of life experiences, particularly over material items. Not only that, but also how easy it is to grasp on to if you just wake up a little. I even very nearly stuck with the one ticket for me but then thought of how much better it would be to share it. Not to mention it was the ideal way to thank my dad for being my personal taxi to the airport.

Typically, I find myself here rambling on about everything and nothing all at once. Things I have hashed over time and time again – going to gigs solo vs taking people with me. Not serving myself. Mistaking lack of foresight for independently living in the moment. While these are hardly new thoughts on my mind, I do feel like I have spent more time reflecting and making movements this month to actually turn a new leaf this time. It is not something to have happened overnight, and I have by no means cracked the code to whatever this new thing is, but I am at the very least attempting to be more conscious and less idle. There may be a Primavera shaped hole in my life, but changing my perspective means it is not a void, as it holds a load of memories to last a lifetime. Less a hole and more a pocket of joy, to remind myself to get out there and not wait for these moments to come along, but to be more active in making them happen.