Workshops and discussions.

The next morning brought an interesting scene, with people passed out all over the beach. I slowly began gathering my gear from the people I had borrowed it from, cleaning and packing away my stuff. I realized quickly that I had forgotten my groundcloth at the park the night before, and hoped someone had picked it up. I ate a light breakfast with Reese, Valentina, and Shaun of bread and meat, and soon headed off with Julien and a Ukrainian dude to go back to the park. Along the way we met a somewhat lost Ukrainian woman also looking for the gathering, and kindly directed her to the park for the eventual workshops, or the beach for the majority of the people at that particular moment.
Back in the park, more general laziness took place. Lots of hanging out, relaxing, and chit-chatting were had as people organized and shared stories and relaxed. I began talking with a few people about Train-hopping in the US, while apparently Robin began simultaneously chatting up some folks about hospitality exchange and sustainable living. Soon enough, signs were made and the quiet unobtrusive discussions became official workshops. My workshop covered train-hopping and squatting, as well as experiences hitching around Europe. As people arrived from the beach, they settled in to either my circle or Robins, and soon rousing discussions ranging from gear to safety to boat-hitching were underway. Many of my friends, new and old, joined my circle, including Cliff, Viera, Alex, Patryk, Reese, Timon, Julien, and Ben, providing valuable input as well as questions and comments. Soon Alex, a Russian from St. Petersburg, took over the discussion and began giving a counter-discussion on train-hitching, boat-hitching, and general hitch-hiking all over Russian (especially Siberia), and to some extent in central and western Asia. I took a page of notes, and will soon transcribe them for my friends over at StP, whom I am certain will be interested in the thought of train-hitching in Siberia (I WILL try this).
Eventually a lunch break was had, and while a joint discussion with Reese and I was slated for the post-lunch discussion circles, my chat (apparently I was the only one with any significant experience) on hitch-hiking in the United States took precedence. So for over an hour I sat and explained the convoluted laws of the US, attempted to explain the difference between “written” law and the way many police officers interpret that same law, shared some of the extremely positive and negative experiences I have had (SLO-cal and NYS being respective examples), as well as answered questions and attempted to dispell certain myths while reinforcing others. Topics ranging from bribing police to drug policy and frequency were brought up and discussed in a civil and intelligent manner. Eventually, as with all things, other topics had to take precedence, with many of the women heading towards the “hitch-hiking safety/dangers as a solo female” discussion. A little later on, the always infamous “next year” circle was held, of which I abstained.
Around this time, Anatoly found me and announced in his now-common broken English that he and his friends were leaving. We hugged, a few times (perhaps a dozen?) and promised to keep in contact. I need to find his E-mail, I know it's on the 7/8/9 website somewhere!
Soon thereafter, chaos! Well, for some people. As night fell, a LOT of alcohol was consumed. One of the local Ukrainians brought Reese and I to a liquor store after we explained that we wanted to try Local vodka, something that he as a Ukrainian would be proud of. WOW, was I blown away. For around $4 we purchased a bottle of wild-honey and cayenne pepper vodka, and MAN was it good. Almost immediately, however, the vodka vanished. My tendency to share everything was well-received, directly down the gullets of the friends I had made. To my horror, when asking for more at the store, I was told that we had received the LAST bottle. I purchased a bottle of 'regular' cayenne pepper vodka, but it was simply not the same. At some point the Lithuanian guy came up to me with Victor, a Spanish hitch-hiker. Victor's bag was missing, and we hoped it had simply been carried down to the beach by a friendly hitch-hiker (or by mistake). Victor was clearly too drunk to make it down there, and was in need of somewhere/something to sleep in. Again, I gave away my sleeping bag, figuring that I had already slept without it for one night, a second one would not kill me. Little did I know what would be happening later... The night “ended” with my crashing close to Viera, as she had drank a bit more vodka than she could apparently handle and was sound asleep, still in the park. Her hitching partner Ben had been planning on returning to the beach with the majority of people, and so I said I would make sure she was ok when she woke and would take care of her in the off chance she got sick. But there was more to come...