Day 3 - Sunday
- A leisurely/ginger start to the day finds us shirking the shuttle and walking in to the festival again. Much less throwing up today.
- Friendly Fires are a wonderful, wonderful live band. An overflowing Mix Up tent seems to agree.
- Sunday at Splendour is a lazy trot after the furious inhaling of intoxicants the day before it seems. Bed hair is in abundance and every few metres some nonchalant soul sports hot pink flesh from the day before.
- People get batshit for MGMT. On the way out there's a crush of bodies trying to free themselves from the throng and it gets scary for a moment. Someone's bent the bars in the fence apart - superhero style - to escape.
- Despite the forecast saying drizzle all day, it doesn't; bar a few drops in the evening, possibly residue from the spittle flying around the guest bar.
- Flaming Lips set up all their own gear whilst waving to the crowd, disappear as video footage of a naked woman dances on the screen behind them, before entering the stage by walking through the onscreen vagina via some pixelated door, down a ramp and on to the stage. Balloons and confetti cannons ensue.
- The bar runs out of drinks and we find ourselves paying $8 for a mid-strength vodka and something, as well as scrambling to order Jager and Red Bulls before the bottle runs out. A new low.
- The pleasant winter night air escorts us back to suburban architecture via a series of lively conversations, shaking of hands, hugs and the obligatory sausage roll as the sun comes up.