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olorielSunday, July 8th
The clouds that have been hanging between the mountains for the past days decide that the day of farewell is a good day for rain. In old family vacations, my father used to say, "If the sun isn't shining/ at farewells we won't be whining" (well, actually he made a German rhyme, but this sufficiently transmits both contents and quality of the rhyme *cough*). It doesn't hold true, of course; even in the rain we don't want to leave!
We clean and stack tables in the "Green Dragon" to help with the general dismantling - anything to have an excuse for staying a bit longer! But eventually the bar is empty and it's 1 pm and we ought to get going if we want to get home before nightfall, so it really is goodbye.
There is little to be said about the way home, which is a drag.
There is a lot to be said about the MEF, and most of it I hopefully remembered to include.
It was an amazing, wonderful weekend, indescribable for anyone who wasn't there really: Four days of a different world, four days of escapism. This festival has grown so much since its beginnings and just kept getting better (which was a well-nigh impossible feat the last times, as it was always "perfect". It kept introducing new levels of "perfect", really.). I desperately hope there will be another MEF; it'd be a grave loss if there isn't. I hear there's already talk about a "Imagine there's no MEF... but everybody's going" meet-up next year. I'd like that.
And I'll keep hoping there will be another MEF - even if I'm 87 at the time and scare everybody in my nursing-home by rolling around screaming wildly, "MEF 2070! MEF 2070!"...
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