Only another four years until the next one.

[hirez]

I woke up at 3am on Friday, mildly desperate for the bog-block at the other end of our field. The roof of the tent was an odd sort of mottled cream, bellowing back and forth in the wind. The brass chandelier wasn't moving though, which was odd. I tried to recall where I'd left my boots and which pair of trousers were closest to hand, so I could pile on enough clothing not to scare any other shambling campers making for the same destination. There was something still wrong with the tent roof though. It was too far away and too rectilinear.

Then I woke up a little more and remembered I was in a room at the Columbia Hotel and the bog-block was an avocado thing about three metres away from my head.

The unconscious theme of SHA2017 was random electric vehicles.