Stage Fright at Stonehenge: Part II
The second instalment of my wacky summer solstice
If you missed Part I, catch up HERE.
We called our friends who gave us some rudimentary directions to where they had settled and embarked on the mission to find them.
Imagine a music festival, except the main stage is a 10,000 year old stone monument. Meaning there were thousands and thousands of people in the surrounding grassy fields all sat down ready to wait out the night in anticipation of the headliner act - the sunrise.
Eventually, we found them and I told them the events of our evening up to this point. My girlfriend at the time gave me that disappointed look I had seen many times before, but overall was happy I made it in.
The next few hours were spent chatting, smoking and periodically topping up our MDMA levels. There was a great mix of people at the event; young adult party goers like us, older folks, kids, hippies, and of course the one young bloke who’s done too much, who inevitably found his way to our group.
I don’t remember his name, but you’ve all met a guy like this. I'm positive. The guy who’s taken way too many drugs, way too quickly for the stage of the night. He stumbled into our circle and decided he was going to join us for the next hour or so.
Being polite, free-spirited art students, we accommodated the guy and humoured his attempts at conversation. Between chewing an invisible sandwich, nonsensical topics leading to nowhere, and erratic physical movements that seemed to affect him at random times, it was for the most part quite entertaining.
I’m always slightly weary of folk like this. Something about the raw, lackadaisical attitude of placing yourself into a strangers social circle irks me. My guarded approach was contradicted by some of my other friends, and girlfriend - who would take a naive delight in welcoming a random man with his bottom jaw halfway up his nose into our space.
Eventually, this nagging gut feeling that things would skew into tension was proved right, when this lad took a liking to the girls in our group. Now, he wasn’t particularly offensive or anything. But with the reduced social awareness and dropped inhibitions that often come with drink or drug use, it resulted in some rather long, awkward, silent stares at the girls. It was no surprise this made them feel uncomfortable, and they were giving us boys the look to say ‘get this guy away from us’.
I think it was Hank who led the charge on this predominantly, as I was too high to be of any serious use, and as proven earlier in the night he could keep his shit together. He had a stern word with the guy, shook his hand and gently guided him off into the darkness. He was free to annoy another load of welcoming people, we’d finished our shift.
Our asses began to numb from sitting down for hours on end, and it was decided that we needed to change up the scenery.
We headed towards the stones.
As we walked our way between groups of people sitting on the grass, edging closer to the monoliths, there was a noticeable shift in the atmosphere. What felt like a massive nighttime picnic began to morph into something more substantial, something ancient.
We reached the perimeter of the stones and we were no longer in modern England. We had been thrown back thousands of years into a ceremony of old. It was absolutely packed with people.
There were strange Pagans dressed in robes and flower crowns - their faces pressed up against the cold walls, muttering chants to themselves before quickly opening their eyes and meeting my gaze directly, almost as if they knew I were watching.
There were small groups of similarly dressed people sitting in circles, some were laughing hysterically, some crying profusely, others in timid silence amongst the chaos.
Occasionally a misplaced raver would spill into my vision, swinging around some instrument of light that left trails of fluorescence in its wake. As the MDMA had fully taken its hold of me, I relished floating around inside these walls.
I felt nervous, but safe.
There was some hectic shit happening all around me, I didn’t even know where my mates were at the point. Despite the all out assault of my senses, I distinctly remember feeling happy, and a sense of belonging. There was a strange connection to lives that had lived far before my own. It was comforting, it was exciting, it was tribal.
I needed to go further. I had barely made it halfway towards the centre.
As I squeezed through more crowds of Druids into the heart of Stonehenge, the intense atmosphere only increased. There were mini bonfires ablaze everywhere with people jumping over them, screaming in glee.
I saw an old, robe-clad man with a beard longer than my leg holding the most fantastic stick in one hand, draped in whimsical jewelry of symbols I had no idea the meaning of. Eyes closed, mouth moving in silent prayer. Completely unshaken by the manic movement surrounding him.
I was almost at the centre.
I dodged another fire on the ground, looked up and was greeted by a rotating circle of people. They were hand-in-hand, circling the heart of the monument singing a song in unison.
I spotted a gap and nipped through. Only to be met with another layer of this human tornado - this time rotating in the opposite direction of the one previous. And faster.
These rings of song carried on going all the way into the centre of the stones. Each concentric circle spinning faster and faster, each one rotating in the opposite direction of the last.
It was incredible.
I’ve had some pretty significant spiritual experiences in my life - but this was before any of those, and was my first foray into anything of this ilk.
In the utter pandemonium I was overwhelmed by this feeling of belonging and unity. I felt both insignificant, and larger than I’ve ever felt before. Tiny in contrast to the night sky above me, but a distinct cog in whatever the fuck was happening between these strange rocks. It made sense in a way I couldn’t make sense of.
These people had been doing this for hours and hours, but I’d had enough, and made the journey out so I could catch my breath. Great way to spend some time, but like fuck was I staying in there for the rest of the night.
I found my friends again and we chilled for a bit on the grass - the majority of the night had passed us by, and we were inching closer to the big moment. It was decided to get everything in order so we were all ready.
This included calling/finding the friends who had wandered off, tidying up our little area from rubbish and of course, going to pee.
“Boys, I need to piss - you coming?” Moo asked the group.
There were some affirmative grunts from us, as most had forgotten about this required bodily function in all of the excitement.
“I passed the toilets on my way out from the stones - but the queue was massive.” Ola said.
“Nah sod that, let’s just find some bushes - we’re on a farm mate” Moo replied, correctly.
That’s one of our best advantages as boys; the ability to pee quite literally anywhere without exposing your whole lower half to the world. God knows I’d done enough exposure that night already. Off we trotted, away from the crowd in the direction of a tree/bush line.
Four or five of us lined up and got to urinating, chatting away, as you do.
One by one we finished and headed back to the group, until there were only two people left; myself and Moo.
As you may know, MDMA (and a lot of other drugs) can make it very hard to pee sometimes. Despite drinking plenty of liquids, occasionally you’ll be standing at the urinal for what feels like ten minutes before a slow dribble begins to commence.
Our man of hour Moo, also suffers from stage fright when peeing in public.
“Right, I’m done. See you back there Moo” I said as I tucked myself away.
“No Sam, wait! I can’t go”
“I don’t see why that’s my problem mate, see you there”
“SAM PLEASE, JUST FUCKING WAIT MAN, HOLD ON”
“Fine”
“Stand next to me and pretend like you’re pissing” he asked, sincerely.
“What?! What’s that going to do?”
“JUST DO IT MAN IT’LL HELP ME”
I took a few steps forward and stood next to my pal. I placed my hands weirdly in front of my crotch and stood there.
“That's it mate, thank you. Hold on, I can feel it coming, just stay there…”
I couldn’t wait to eviscerate him when we got back, this was brilliant.
“Just relax buddy, it’ll come” I encouraged.
“Yes….Yes! It’s happening Sam! I’m pissing!” he exclaimed triumphantly.
I heard some commotion happening behind us.
“Hold on, what’s going on..” I turned around.
“What? What’s happening?!” the alarm in his voice was evident.
The noise grew louder. Cheers and applause echoed around us as night slowly turned into day.
I looked at my watch.
4:42am.
Midsummer had begun, and then, it dawned on me of where exactly we stood.
Of every place we could have chosen to pee, we had selected the north-east corner of the field.
Exactly where the sun rises.
15,000 people were all facing the same direction, waiting in anticipation.
And there we were.
Standing in everyone’s eye line, backlit by our rising star making its majestic entrance.
Pissing.
“Don’t. Turn. Around.” I told Moo. “Trust me”.
He turned his head.
“WHAT THE FUCK?!” he screamed. “WHY ARE THEY ALL WATCHING ME SAM?!”
“The sun, bro”
“NOOOOOOOOO!”
The noise was deafening. I could hear people cheering for us along with the celestial body rising from the horizon, extending our shadows back towards Stonehenge and the tens of thousands of onlookers.
We trudged back towards the masses and our friends.
I couldn’t stop laughing. Moo was traumatised.
“What the fuck were you guys doing?! Everyone saw you!” my embarrassed girlfriend moaned as she hid her face from the people coming over to congratulate us on a successful bladder movement.
It was an incredible moment that I’ll never, ever forget.
We packed up, made our way back to the car and started the multiple-hour long queue to exit the event, made even more uncomfortable by the blazing heat of the sun and the unavoidable come down from the drugs.
We made it back to Bournemouth with another banging adventure in the books, and a story I hold very dear to my heart.
One I’ll be telling for the rest of my days.