19th May 2007, 13:00pm

Yesterday evening.
Cannes in a Van reaped Cannes. Then we went to a street party, of sorts.
The police continued to completely dig our stuff
(though they may not be the target audience).

People came down. They watched. They clapped. Important looking guys took flyers.

It was, once again, a complete success.
It continues to be a success. The women here are not all ugly.

Andy and I nearly had an aneurism when we pulled up on the Croisette (which I realised is not spent with a Q) due to a four hour equipment check earlier in the day where everything was great seemingly not helping at all. We parked, banged on A Brief But Triumphant Intermission by Against Me (excellent band) to set up to, and then we suddenly had no sound. Luckily it came down the fact that we hadn’t turned it on.
I know, it doesn’t make sense, but what can you do.

There is an obscene amount of neon in Cannes. Everywhere. It’s quite good.
Apparently we went out on TV last night, and it was not too horrific. Which is also quite good. It hit us that being somewhere so far from London with no television is the best way to be when that kind of thing happens.

It’s too hot to write, there is someone playing a trumpet, badly next door to us and the campsite in which we are staying has a swimming pool.
Which is not hot, or next door to the same tune sixteen times played rather indecisively.

Right. Swimming pool.
Can’t write and swim, because I’d probably kill everyone in the pool with some narly electric surge. Too bad.