July 10 Falconing and Pohoda

For whatever reason, there’s still some chemistry in my body that tells me I must get up for the complimentary hotel breakfast, no matter how late I was up the night before or how terrible it’s most likely going to be.

But whatever, I get back under the covers. My blood feels electric from a lack of sleep, and so ironically, it takes me a while to pass out again. When I wake again at 11:30, I feel no better. By phone is bleating like an electronic sheep, and my heart is racing enough again that more sleep seems futile.

Charlie and James won’t answer their door, so Katra joins Zach, Snails, and me on a trek through the Trencin Castle. Less ornate than some of the German castles I’ve seen (or not seen, for that matter), it has a much more authentic feel, bruised and worn by the ages, yet still standing its ground, cause hey, it’s motherfucking castle. And unlike some other historical landmarks I’ve visited, the security here is decidedly hands off, so you can wander around at will, exploring every windy, low headroom spiral staircase.

There’s even a working trebuchet, and a historical reenactment area with a falconry and a blacksmith (who is decisively not going to bust his balls being 100% 13^th century and has an electric fan pumping his coals red hot for him). I et tourist trapped too and conned into buying a coin that I "made". I thought I was going to blacksmith a coin, but all I got to do was emboss a soft copper blank. Boo.

The Falconress is bewitching; her medieval leather skirt and mind control of her magnificent taloned beasts has me absolutely smitten. When she places the protective leather glove upon my arm with my very own 14-pound golden eagle, I’m immediately in love.

I don’t think she understands when I propose to her though, and she keeps going about her way. At first, I feel bad that the birds are in captivity, but I learn that most of them are rescued, and this life seems better than no life at all.

The festival is great, even if overwhelmingly hot. It’s the kind of festival weather I’ve found myself drinking rum and lemonade concoctions in in the past. Watch the Vivian Girls in an elaborate tent. It’s so repressively hot, and I’m not even moving. I become that guy and take off my shirt. The guitar plays seems like she’s melting.

Before we leave for the night, I get to witness the fabricated police state of Crystal Castles. As soon as they arrive, the art performance piece begins. They demand a security guard be places outside their dressing room, and the creation of a schito, anxious environment and antagonistic electricity in the air begins, hours before they are set to perform.

When they do eventually get on stage, they actively make people feel like their chemistry is off by blinking harsh strobes at them, and surrounding them with additional security with commands to impose additional restrictions on the audience. Once this environment is set, they launch into their glitchy, brutal music and scream over it the whole time. It’s awesomely commanding, torquing people up and working them into an uncomfortable frenzy. The set culminates with Alice jumping into the crowd and being dragged back to stage by her tour manager, and then ends soon afterward with her clawing her way back into the crowd to punch some dude who I’m guessing copped a feel. In any event, the music was forgettable, but the performance as a whole (as a purely visual experience was a bit repetitive), was amazingly intriguing that they could create so much confusion and discord at a festival that, up to that point, reminded me much more of the passive, hippie –flecked Burning Man.