Day 2: A Washout

The one for which my friends and I had managed to get really good spots on front and second row! It had started to rain but we’d all huddled together in the rain and were kind of enjoying ourselves, making most of a less-than-ideal situation. We were okay, really: I handed out rain ponchos and the Jamaican stage hand had covered us with a tarpaulin. “You’re not used to this weather!” he kept saying, while I thought to myself, ‘mate, you have no idea of the horizontal rain we get where I live by the English Channel!’. (I call our regular winter weather by my neck of the woods ‘the apocalypse’).

The rain had actually stopped when Zac appeared right behind me. He’d come to tell us that unfortunately the show would have to be postponed because of lighting: it was too dangerous. Although it was a massive disappointment to hear that, I really appreciated that Zac had come to tell us in person: Hanson could have asked Rebecca to do it, or the stage manager, but instead, we got the news from Zac. He looked genuinely sorry to have to give us such disappointing news, but everybody was very understanding: the last any of us wanted was to see our favourite band get fried on stage (I’m sure Zac could write a good song about that).

This is the problem with outdoor events: you’re at the mercy of the elements. We’d had the same problem the previous year in Cancun, and now we were in the same situation. That whole evening felt like a big waste of time, complete with terrible food served by extremely pissed off staff  from the only open restaurant. Verdict? Disappointed, but at least nobody’s lives were put at risk that night. We need our Hanson brothers alive.

As the thunderstorm raged on and on, and the only open bar became impossibly crowded, we sought refuge in our room which had a fully stocked bar. Wet, tired and a little bit deflated, we drank rum and hoped for better weather the next day.