Smells like…

The atrium at Federation Square is quiet. A whirr of a coffee machine off in the distance, and a regular clump clump from Readings bookshop as they set up books for the day. Some muzak, thankfully unidentifiable, is humming through the airwaves. And then. And then a noise in the background, a gentle hum, a louder drone. Getting louder. And then BLAM. In comes the first schools group, 21 13 year olds, followed by more and more groups, led by their harassed teachers shouting in vain to keep them under some semblance of control. The festival’s schools program has started. 10,000 students in 3 days.

They come in waves, getting louder and louder and then shuffling into the sessions for the hour, bouncing off each other,  yelling, bumping into  everything, putting their tickets out to be scanned, and barging into the venues.  

Peace reigns for a while. Then the riffs of noise start up again as they all come out in the same gamboling, uncoordinated, bumping way, eating, drinking, just sucking in life as they go about their day.  Eventually they disperse to make way for the next tsunami of school groups.

I go into the venue.  It’s littered with bits of paper and unidentifiable flotsam.  The whole place smells of hormones – wafting through the space looking for somewhere to implant themselves.

I back out.

It’s exhausting.We all feel we’ve survived some spectacular, some cataclysm.  But it’s fun, energetic, life affirming. 

Later that day, the cleaners at Federation Square email me to say they’ll have to charge extra for after the schools. 

Two more days before we go back to the main program. 

Helenka
Festival Manager