Holidays, by my definition, were to be enjoyed within my comfort zone and to be achieved with the least effort input. This, and the fact that I had a whole set of expectations, would be the reasons why I feel cheated - like I only had one and a half weeks 'real' holiday instead of three entire weeks. It took me that long to shift my mind set to start enjoying where I was.

It was a long, 22 hour journey to the western side of the USA - the well renowned city of the liberals: San Francisco. I arrived feeling disoriented and a little lost - not having researched and thought about what I wanted to get out of SF. I left this to my partner. We were there four days before venturing out to a place where no living creature would survive: Black Rock City - a dried lake bed with desert conditions. It was the chosen place of an annual event called Burning Man and to the best of my knowledge - it is defined as a festival of sorts. But it was much more.

I've always prided myself in being a good traveler - one with an absence of jet lag. However I think I would have to re-think this bit. How else could I explain my wanting to get my shut eye by 11pm and my reticence - in making new friends, in trying out various (night) activities. I was also unprepared for the amount of work involved in ensuring survival and fun for Burning Man; even though the bulk of the work was not done by yours truly. It was a truly slow start.

On day five of my vacation, we drove up in a huge RV. The 12-hour drive was very pleasantly interrupted by a surprise birthday cake pit stop. I have never celebrated my birthday with strangers before but it was cool because they seemed genuinely happy for me (or maybe it was the to-die-for chocolate cake) - a sign of a city girl, overly suspicious of all good. It was all-good because it was a complete surprise and I was, well, touched.

After settling ourselves in as residents of Black Rock City, realization started creeping in. I was perpetually covered in a layer of dust. I had little means of a satisfying shower as water was scarce. The extreme temperature made lethargy a constant companion during the day and the bed a haven at night. Doing the simplest things required much more effort and time - going to the potty during the day would mean slathering myself with sunscreen, getting dressed (I'll leave that up to your imagination), packing my day bag - comprising toilet paper, water, more sun screen, chapsticks, walkie talkie and snacks, getting on my bike and cycling there. I was definitely out of my comfort zone. And at a grand old age of 29, I was utterly used to not sharing - not sharing my living space with perfect strangers, not used to not having no control of my living environment.

In order to enjoy what Burning Man had to offer, I had to get over my hang ups, shift my mental expectations, stop being tired and learn how to take naps to enjoy the nocturnal activities. Unfortunately I never managed the last bit - forays out into the late nights were few and far between - we were only there for eight days and I can only proudly say that I was out 'properly' for just two nights. What I've done was only a scratch on the surface of what could have been. Multiple interactive art installations artists had painstakingly dreamt up and built I didn't see, theme camps which were unvisited - one which I found out on my way back to SF was created to worship women, and men volunteered to serve and carry out any requests a woman had - music in party domes which went unheard. My engine revved up only on the second weekend. And I realised that this body is no longer nubile - a night out required two days to recover.

However, I was thankful to have experienced:

• funky costumes - they blew my mind away. These were not performers for Cirque du Soleil (well maybe some - judging by their skills), they were ordinary people who did exactly what they wanted - there was no censure.
• art cars - crazy modes of transportation. Maybe I'll get on one the next time.
• warm and open people - I suspended disbelief and cynicism and accepted peoples' gifts of food, help, hugs, free entry to entertainment and knowledge. Pass it on, not back was the motto, I believe.
• the beauty of nature despite the starkness of it all.

Check this site out for an idea of what Burning Man can offer.

Back in the comforts of my bedroom, I revisit Burning Man and my SF encounters mentally. It didn't seem that bad. Yes there are quite a lot of things I would have done differently, now armed with knowledge. Perhaps I could consider this trip a trial run and maybe, just maybe, do the real thing next year.

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