Beach, Booze, Bro's and Bre's Bratwurst

We have plans.
And then change them.
We (Bre) grills chemical Bratwursts.
And then decides they are definitely not edible.
We find bro's.
And then listen to jam sessions.
We almost run out of gas.
And then instead run out of coolant.
We almost get towed.
And then don't.
We drive on precariously narrow roads.
And then trespass.
We run on fields of green.
And then pretend its Ireland... Part 2.
We drink until there's nothing left.
And then watch as our tent is taken by the wind.
We laugh.
And then complain about laugh cramps.
We stoke a fire. Put on every layer we brought. Play some games.
And then fall asleep in a tent that instead of standing erect, as it should, lays flat, in surrender to the wind.

Fun times at Jamala. I mean Jalama.



















Oh, and apparently we light paint.
Whilst intoxicated.
On the beach.
In the cold.
With two green glowsticks, and eight layers of clothes.