A Climate of its Own – A Midnight Sun Weather Report

By Kai Teo

Sunny with chance of rain, snow, hurricanes and everything else.

Sunny with chance of rain, snow, hurricanes and everything else.

“You are tuning in to Buddha Mag News Network, reporting to you Live from Midnight Sun Festival 2016. The weather today is sunny, cloudy and rainy, at unpredictable periods of irregular intervals. Winds are expected to reach a speed of 500 km/h, so be prepared for UFRs (Unidentified Flying Ravers). Sunset today is at 2:30 am and Sunrise, 2:31 am. Have a great day, and remember to put on some warm clothes so that you can take them off and put them on again before taking them off later.”

Above the Nordic line, no weather is predictable. We arrived on what appeared to be a sunny, tropical island, where the sun never seemed to set. If you’ve never asked why, it’s because the Earth rotates at a tilted axis and during summer, this part of the planet is pointed more to the sun (or at least, according to Buddha Mag’s leading astrophysicist, Kai Teo).

Day One was Summer. Gentle winds caressed our skins and the never-ending sunlight warmed us up, as we wandered around the immensely scenic festival grounds, which were entirely bathed in a golden, orange glow of the combined sunset and sunrise.

But as we prepared our weary bodies for sleep, massive dark clouds drifted in from behind the mountaintops, swallowed the sun like a happy pill, and threatened to dampen our spirits with a menacing downpour. According to the travel brochure, it said that the sun never sets. But in the fine print, it read “Fucked up clouds might cover all the living daylights and even though the sun is still up high in the sky, it wouldn’t be able to safe your sorry ass.”

And suddenly, it came. You remember the scene from “Twister” where the cow was kinda swept up by the wind? Replace that with tents, foldable tables and harem pants. There you go, the Vaerøy storm.

Please buy an expensive tent next time.

Please buy an expensive tent next time.

The two gazebos that we have intended as our chillout area were plucked from the ground and flung across the rocks like toilet paper in the wind. Yes, even the portable toilets tipped over under the might of the speeding gusts, spilling psychedelic shit and pee with no mercy on innocent ravers.

And then the heavens opened up and god cried, peed, and threw up, all at the same time (must’ve been a rough night at the sky bar) onto us. Our tiny tent could barely hold up as its loose bits flapped wildly like a baby bird trying to fly from a starving fox. Our overconsumption of Italian pasta has helped us gain some crucial weight to keep our canvas shelter on the ground, and we tried to sleep, unaware of the tragic fate of the victims of the hurricane outside.

The mettle of our 300 SEK tent was put to the test as the raindrops, as big as light bulbs, threw themselves violently on our roof. It wasn’t long before the first droplets seeped through the waterproof-but-not-disaster-ready canvas and started flooding up our cosy abode.

“This is shit! I hate this festival! I’m done with sleeping in tents!” My hateful declaration echoed through the atmosphere and bounced across the rocky cliffs. I’m pretty sure god heard me, because she decided that this was gonna be the weather for the next few days.

But we’re Rainbow Warriors. If LSD couldn’t kill us, neither would a fearsome storm. So we adapted. We reinforced our tents with army-grade canvas, weighed them down with camper vans and giant rocks, and dressed ourselves in non-hippie looking hiking stuff. And we continued dancing.

A casual stroll from the campsite to the dancefloors had to be paused because we didn’t want to be blown off the cliffs. And for the first time in my life, I experienced what it was like to actually sit on wind. Yep. We sat on that shit.

The birthplace of a new dance movement.

The birthplace of a new dance movement.

And just like the breakdance was invented on the streets, a whole new dance movement was discovered at the festival. We’d call it “Wind Walking”. In addition to the usual stomping, we witnessed the birth of a dance that combined struggling to stand up and flailing hand movements.

So there you go, the weather report – pure madness. And when you subject mad people like us to the crazy elements, we’d still be having fuck loads of fun. 


Read the other stuff in our Midnight Sun Festival 2016 Minimag.
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