It was all very surprising.
I’ve always thought that the festival of White Night a bit of a waste of time. Not to mention bad for the environment, with all that power used, and for what?
That was until I went there.
My friends and I showed up at Melbourne Museum, expecting a bunch of drunken teenagers and barrier control. Instead we witnessed a beautifully calm and serene expression of visual bliss, accompanied by haunting music and a peaceful, respectful audience.
I’m sure there were other sites that were a lot more crowded and chaotic, but this was magnificent. I’m happy to say we probably got the best of it.
I’m glad I was wrong about this festival.
Once we had finished dancing and singing and laughing and drinking and twirling and running and gazing and filming and smiling, there was nothing left to do but head into the city to find more. Kate, Travis, my partner Anita and I had long since lost the rest of our friends, but as we set off on foot to discover more of this delicious feast for the senses, we knew we had discovered something that had wowed us all – and that brought us together. No amount of cheap beer in a sports bar, the only pub we could find nearby, could put a dampener on that.
When Anita and I returned home, we found all our digital clocks had been reset by a power failure.
Perhaps too much current from White Night?