I’ve festival-hopped around the UK in unpredictable summers. Working behind a rickety tabletop during a heat wave and being unable to function without twitching. Or peeling off my trainers during a flooded electronic music festival only to find I had succumbed to trench foot. Memories glued together with hysterical fits of laughter and a boot full of random stories, like snorting chunky lines of Black Forest cake served by young women dressed up as grannies.
Doing an inter-festival road trip around Africa wouldn’t be as straightforward as packing beer, cream cheese, and a token gas stove into a Nissan Micra but, if ever there was a time to do it, it’s now. Here’s where to start.