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Wavelength April 2009...

Into the Wild

Dark spruce and cedar forest swayed, leaning over the narrow highway, hissing gently to the subtle changes of breeze and persistent heavy rain. The road itself, a mere thread through the darkness, hemmed in by miles of wet, cold and wild forest. I stepped from the car tired and arctophobic*. My only comfort, a Radio One mix blasting out of the oversized jeep we’d hired; surely Carl Cox would keep bears, cougars and wolves at bay, long enough for me to empty my bladder?

Appetite 4 Destruction

Accepting my invitation to come on this Canary Islands trip meant Andrew Cotton would be continuing a blossoming tradition that he and I have: one that sees me always letting him down and him getting pissy as a result. Naturally, I never intend on slashing over his chips but, without fail I always manage to. Our first trip together in Ireland was all about making a good impression; you know, him wanting to perform for the camera, and me wanting him to think I know what I’m doing with the camera - when clearly, I don’t.