Creamfields Buenos Aires

The journey from Uruguay this morning was probably the worst we've ever experienced. Mark had to be placed in a wheel chair just before the flight as he was no longer able to walk...

Let's rewind and tell you the whole story… The day before Mark had picked me up whilst walking. This is something he's always done. Walking, feeling happy and content, and suddenly whoooosh and I'm up in the air. He didn't tell me at the time but he got a strange twinge in his back this time. This got progressively worse, ending with him not being able to walk even a few yards... When we left our hostel in the morning his back was not great, so I was carrying our only backpack (we had left the other locked up in our hostel in Buenos Aires). After about 20 yards he just knelt down saying he needed a minute. The walk between the hostel and bus station is approximately 5 minutes. He soldiered on, but only able to take a few steps before bending down again and again, clutching his back. He's never even had the flu in the time that I've known him and not once in the whole 3 years we've been in Nottingham did he need to use our GP, so this had to be something awful, and scared me to death.

We reached the bus station 30 mins later and found that we had missed the two busses that would take us to the airport in time for our flight. No problem, we'd get a taxi instead. All the while I'm thinking we must get to a hospital in BA as soon as we land and does our travel insurance cover air ambulance? Should we be moving him at all?

During check-in, Mark just about held it together, but you could see he was shaking with pain. More Ibuprofen and paracetamol was not really much help and my offers of getting him a wheel chair were repeatedly refused. However, he had to accept defeat in the end, as his condition deteriorated and the wheelchair arrived shortly before we headed over to the departure gate.

I called ahead to Chill House to make sure they gave us a room at ground floor and explained about Mark's back. We made plans to resell our Creamfelds tickets which still had to be picked up in Buenos Aires and agreed that we would rest his back tonight to see how it is for the 17 hour bus ride to Iguasu Falls the next afternoon…

Once we made it to our hostel and settled in (lunch purchased, prepared and eaten and a large bottle of rum & coke placed in easy access of Mark) I left to pick up our Creamfields tickets and also get some hardcore pain relief.

After some sleep and most of the bottle rum, Mark was doing much better and my offerings from 'la farmacia' seemed to help a great deal. Things really took a positive turn as we met the two of the loveliest Argentinian ladies in our dorm. Lupe and Laura were English teachers from Rosario, with the poshest English accents we'd heard for a while (learnt from watching many Jane Austen dramas) and they had driven all the way to BA to go to Creamfields. Within a minute of meeting us they offered us a lift down with them. Although Mark was still not great, he was now able to walk around gingerly and was quite up for a quick look around the festival site even if it was only for a half hour. After all, we had been unable to get the tickets resold and they would be completely wasted otherwise. With this mad plan and our tummies full of burnt pizza, Captain Morgan's Spiced Rum (and very very strong pain killers - Mark only), we ended up in the worst traffic jam we've seen in BA, but with the best company we've had for a long time too. The girls were funny, telling us about the strange folk songs on the radio, how they preferred the likes of Coldplay and John Digweed, and the rigorous training they were put through to ensure their English was impeccably spoken (which it was!).

The 30 minute quick look around turned into a wild night of fun with the girls & their friends until 4am. The music and our company were top notch. The friendly locals dancing around us wanted to chat to the gringoes; after all, we were particularly noticeable with Mark towering over everybody. Lupe I think congratulated Mr. & Mrs. Fullbrook for aptly naming him - she referred to him as 'The Marker' or 'The Beacon', as he was so easy to find within a crowd of South Americans. We felt elated at our changing fortune and felt that FATE had brought us two new friends, who looked after us all night long.

Our elation of making it to Creamfields and having such an amazing night was temporarily dampened when I realised my zipped shoulder bag was now open and Mark's wallet which had been in a zipped inner pocket was now missing. How could someone had gone into my bag whilst I was wearing it? I was thoroughly shocked and it took me some time to accept that the wallet and the £150 cash inside was now gone. We were fortunate (and rather sensible) that we had been keeping the wallet free of any cards or documents.  It was time to call it a night. It had been a crazy, emotional rollercoaster of a day and sleep, even if it was in a bunk, was all that was needed.