Golden Plains is golden

It's hard to come down from one of the most enjoyable weekends of your life.

Golden Plains and Meredith Music Festival are the two favourites of my year, but this year's GP was special.

What was not to love. A weekend packed with so many of life's golden moments: sweet music in the sun from a couple of Swedish teenagers (ok, one's 22) who should be too young to be so wise; dancing the night away to a funk legend; having your heart tugged at by soaring melancholy; appreciating the music and journey of man who's mere presence is inspiring for anyone who appreciates the struggles of the mind; random interactions with wonderful strangers; chilling out with good friends; all the while enjoying a beer they let you bring yourself in a picteresque natural setting. And so much more.

All my troubles fade away for those two days; all the important things come together to lift me above the meaningless bullshit that permeates and drags on everyday life. Music, environment, good friends, good strangers, beer. The Garden of Eden couldn't have been so glorious, even if it did share the Meredith 'no-dickhead' policy.

And nowhere else have I found such a high ratio of genuine, life-loving, genuine people. Plus it's gotten me into so many amazing bands over the last four years.

I love Golden Plains. It is my sanctuary. They could not have picked a more perfect name.