One hell of a week touring Amsterdam followed by the ultimate dance festival, Tomorrowland. Followed by the consequences of what happens to your body when you don’t eat, sleep, or do anything required for life, and instead jump excessively and continuously for 12 hours straight and then attempt to lie on a blow-up mattress that lacks the blow-up part.
Amsterdam consisted of a weird culmination of “coffee shops”, serious art museums, random canals and the best waffles you will ever find (NOTE: Nutella cafes exist, I repeat Nutella cafes exist – it’s not the weed that people flock to Amsterdam for :p). And the horrific experience of having to wear gym clothes for a bike tour. Thus appearing like the tourists I absolutely detest, who for some reason think it’s acceptable to wear gym clothes as normal clothes in an overseas country (NOTE also: Europe is a REAL continent in which REAL people wear REAL clothes, not gym gear. In fact they hardly ever wear gym gear, as gymming is actually a pretty bizarre thing to do in Europe.) The actual bike tour on the other hand was a whole other story. I highly recommend having ridden a bike within the past 10 years before attempting to ride through the streets of Amsterdam. I learnt the hard way, however I’m pleased to say I did not die on the streets of Amsterdam.
Tomorrowland’s name is not at all misleading, as when they say it’s a land, it truly is. Unlike any other music festival you will ever attend, this one creates not only a world to explore for the festival but a whole extra world to explore for those lucky enough to stay at the festival site. A place they like to call Dreamville. If you’ve ever dreamt of fairyland (don’t pretend you haven’t, my entire childhood consisted of attempting to recreate Shirley Barber scenes in my garden), this is what it looks like. From the moment we picked our tickets up from a leprechaun and flower fairy at the train station, to the daily newspapers, flags draped across every corner and person, printed tents, themed stages, no object in the entire festival was untouched by the theme. The Kingdom of Melodia even had its own king who sat in the castle (also known as the main stage). In case that wasn’t enough, throw in every single dance music DJ who was ever remotely recognised, and you’ve got the best thing on Earth.
When I paid the MOST exorbitant amount of money to stay in this magical land for 5 days, I never thought I would entirely get my money’s worth. But I got it’s worth, and more. A place that truly gives meaning to its emblem – live today, love tomorrow, unite forever. A place where nationality, gender, appearance, language, any form of potential for discrimination are smothered by the happiness and excitement everyone shares for this magical musical land. When they say “this is where the magic happens”, they’re not lying. An experience I will never forget.