Another week at sea filming 30 strangers party themselves into oblivion.
Seven days at sea filming for Sail Croatia, two carcinogenic nights at Hideout Festival and one glorious sunrise as our boat left the harbour.
A short road trip to Plitvice Lakes National Park.
My first few weeks exploring Split with the locals and an 'educational' 7 day sail around the adriatic.
A salty weekend by the beach in Brighton.
A quick 30,000km round trip to see my favourite people at the greatest festival in the world.
After a 3 months hiatus the sun has finally emerged from behind the clouds and everyone in London is significantly happier.
Photos from October to December developed blank presumably because I didn't attach the film to the spool correctly, so here's January 1st onwards—Christmas spent in Brighton with my lovely British pseudo family and various snaps from London.
Our afternoon at Berlin's abandoned airport was so great that we decided to spend our week exploring more of Germany's forgotten gems. Next on the list was the overgrown wasteland that is Spreepark, Berlin's huge abandoned amusement park.
After a ridiculously expensive week in Munich I thought I'd try save some cash and attempt to hitch-hike my way north. The weather prior to leaving was outstanding so needless to say when I woke to start my estimated 6 hour hitch to Berlin it was bucketing down.
I soldiered through the rain and after 5 rides and almost 12 hours later I found myself in Berlin.
My friend Clare was in town so we hired some bikes, bought the cheapest red wine we could find and headed to the abandoned airport.
Four days of Oktoberfest on the trot leaves a man feeling very sorry for himself and with a sizeable dent in his wallet.
We found refuge in the ripper (and affordable) hostel, The Tent, which is literally a series of big fucking tents that hundreds of people sleep in between soldiering through consecutive days drinking themselves into oblivion at Oktoberfest.
For a city that was literally flattened during the war and has undoubtably one of the darkest histories in the world, Warsaw remains incredibly beautiful and impossibly trendy.
Important lesson learned: If you book a budget sail around the greek islands there's a good chance you'll be put on a dingy and exclusively drink vodka-sea waters for a week.
Despite this, and despite our perpetually pissed off sail leader, we had a fucking ripper seven days with some legendary people.
Stopped over in Nice for a couple of days on our way to Greece. Drank some beers, spewed some spews. Same old.
We left Reading Festival just after midnight on the final day so we had enough time to catch our plane to Spain. The pain of sitting though a flight hungover and without much sleep was made slightly more bearable by the fact that we were flying into a sunset, and boy was it pretty.
After two of days in Valencia I said goodbye to the boys and caught a couple of rides up the coast to hang out on the beach in La Pineda, which was shortly followed by our rendezvous at a skate hostel in Barcelona.
Four days of festival bliss spent alongside our newfound Welsh and British friends, who without, we definitely would have starved to death. I Finally got to see Modern Baseball play and was so happy that I did a little cry.
Played around with exposure by opening the back door of my camera and got some rawkus results.
Post Sziget comedowns in Vienna.
If festivals were olympic sports Sziget would definitely be the mother of all marathons. Aptly dubbed 'The Island of Freedom' it boasts 10 days of partying on a huge island in the heart of Budapest.
Running on Pringles and cheap Espressos we boozed our way through the tour only stopping to hydrate, talk to dealers and occasionally catch some music. Highlights include: moshing to Excision, spewing in some poor child's bucket and watching our Ukraine neighbours attempt to function after chain smoking pot for the entirety of their 'experience'.
After receiving some dubious directions to Kosice's Paradise National Park we eventually arrived only to spend a few hours hiking towards a waterfall that I'm convinced doesn't actually exist.
Our time in Prague was filled with pub crawls, walking tours and seedy days spent in the beautiful park behind our hostel. We met a bunch of Canadian legends who helped make the hungover days more bearable.