CONCERT WEEK

I have to admit that, by this point in time, I was getting a bit burned out. In around eight months, I had managed to go on three holidays, and I still had some twenty-seven days of leave left.

How? Well, I was so worried about using my leave days that I ended up swapping most of my shifts – meaning I was working overtime for months on end whenever I wasn’t abroad. And now another holiday was awaiting me. One that I had been planning for over a year. I guess you could say it was years in the making – perhaps, if one were to be overly analytical – the very seed that led to that moment had been sown way back in the Patagonian wilderness.

Yup, that’s right. From belting out I Know Places as I zipped through Mount Fitz Roy to humming Maroon as I traipsed around Torres del Paine, I guess another die-hard fan was born. And now? Now I was about to see the living legend herself live.

But don’t let me get ahead of myself – there was a quick stop to make before that. I’d also be seeing another goddess perform live. One I had already seen a few years back at Sziget Festival in Budapest, Hungary. I couldn’t friggin’ wait to see her again.