It was the fourth of May, hot and humid under low skies. The day-trippers started pouring in at dawn. Sanitation hell descended once more on the peaceful, post-futuristic grunge of the staybehinds. Hippies, actual hardline hippies, were heard talking about getting a Railtrack spur - or, hey, why not a superconducting levitation monorail? to the site gates. There were twisters in Staffordshire, homewrecker floods in East Anglia, and the anti-nuclears in the Rhone Valley might be bringing European Civilization to a sudden close this afternoon; but that last wasn't a big topic of conversation, Green Apocalypse Boredom having set in many moons ago.