Samwell's Blog

It's easy to get so caught up in preparing for Pride that you go numb to it. It becomes just another Big Weekend of parties and - for many locals - of hard work. There's no time for reflection, or for making it special for yourself.

After months of preparation for the parade, the fact that the heavens opened on us on Saturday morning was particularly unwelcome. The wind didn't help at all either. We'd prepared for the worst, of course... Bill had gone out and bought lots of cans of spray varnish to cover the banners and printed stickers with so that the ink wouldn't run in the rain, but unfortunately the rain got behind the banners and the ink started to move earthwards... with some of the banners going the same way later on in the parade.

We've done floats before, but for some reason this one was particularly, uncomfortably stressful. With only three hours sleep under my belt my mobile was ringing... the driver of our articulated lorry from London had arrived at Preston Park and needed to be put in touch with the scaffolders and the sound engineers. I jumped on my bike at just gone 5:15am and headed over to the park...

The morning continued along similar lines... the sound system wasn't working properly, the scaffold needed to be adjusted to fit our giant suitcase, James had slept through his alarm and sounded as stressed as me when I spoke to him - trying to cook everyone their promised sausage sandwiches before he headed out to snap some morning events. The final straw was an important banner that had been accidentally left at the workshop. I decided, at that point, that it would be better if I didn't get on the float at all - my heart just wasn't in it any more. The banner did turn up, which was a relief, but my stress levels had hit the roof and I was feeling very much out in the cold. And wind. And rain.

But then something really lovely happened.

A Pride volunteer came over to give our float its safety inspection. By this point the rain was gusting in and my shorts and REALBrighton sash were, unsurprisingly, not providing much protection. Accompanying the safety inspector was lovely Luke... I've chatted to Luke a few times and always thought he seemed like a genuine, nice bloke. While I was answering the safety questions he hugged me with his back to the wind, protecting me from the elements to help keep me warm.

It was a simple, really thoughtful thing to do.

And it was that little gesture that kept me going through my long Pride weekend... as I flew from tent to tent on the park snapping the acts, as I walked between the clubs with my camera at 3am in a daze, as I squeezed myself to the front of cabaret stages with people's beer going down my back and as I collapsed in bed - exhausted... it was lovely Luke who sprang to mind and made me smile.

Someone took the time to make me feel loved and to look after me.

Thankyou, Luke, for making my Pride.