
Our last day at the 'Roo came with a sense of accomplishment. Most festivals don't last four whole days. Most festivals aren't sprawled out over 700 breathtaking acres (in all manners of speaking) of farmland, transforming each day into a series of impromptu treks. Most festivals don't require you to survive on port-a-potties and "alternative shower solutions" for the better part of a week. But Bonnaroo was all those things and much more, and by the time we were preparing to leave Manchester, it felt a little like heading for the barracks after a battle: bittersweet. (editor's note: I've never been in a battle.)
Continue reading Bonnaroo recap v.3: Erykah, Snoop and reflections.


