The next day, I woke up at 10am. I just woke up, I don't know why. Since Friday, I had slept 7 hours. In 3 nights. But hell! This was not a place you come to sleep at. There's plenty of time to sleep later. So I woke up.
 
Outside the tent an horrible sight awaited me. Half the camp had disappeared (I hadn't noticed when I went to bed). Half of the other half was being pulled down. There were lots of busy people packing their bags, looking for lost items, gathering their trash. It was very sad. But I was in such a good mood that I couldn't be too affected. I turned to my own little bum shelter and proceeded to fold it all into my backpack.
 
One painful breakfast later, I joined the cleaning teams. We had one day to restore the site to its original state. And it was one nice day of running about, carrying stuff, cleaning, and getting down and dirty. All of that within the same soft atmosphere that seemed to wrap the whole event. There were many of us helping out and it was all done rather quickly.
 
Then I grabbed my stuff and got ready to leave the site. I don't like saying good bye. I just waived my hand to some of the kids that I found on my way. One of them was a pretty well-known party animal called Flohfish. He said he would leave with me. I waited. And off we went.
 
Massimo, a friend of ours gave us a ride in his hippie looking Volkswagen van (called Sophia) to the underground station. I took the train with Flohfish, that was bare foot, draped in his sleeping bag and just as contemplative as me.
 
We walked into the train like we were taking possession of it. It felt to me like everyone in the car had acknowledged our presence as owners of the world and had turned back to their respective activity. I was radiating pure human energy. And as far as I can tell, Floh was feeling the same. He left the train a bit before me. We barely said goodbye. Like if being physically removed didn't mean much. I rode alone to Bilbo's place, my self filling all the interstices of space. Pretty freaky, isn't it?
 
At Bilbo's, I helped her Swedish guest to prepare a swedish speciality, put her son into bed and left again for the afterparty. In a bar in Berlin. There were around 50 people there. I tryed to share myself between all those kids. The kiss-fest girl was there, we had a good talk. I also met with one of my partners-in-brainstorm in the volunteer team of BeWelcome. I had a huge conversation with him and Damien-the-punk about how vegganism, if generalised, was (or not) condemning all domestic species to extinction. Then I brought the topic of "domination" in the heterosexual attractionships and I think he will hate me forever now. I left with a group of 10 to the after-after-party.
 
I woke up the next day in a garden-house.
Around all german metropolis, there is a stretch of contiguous little gardens. People from the continuous-concrete-city can then get in their car and go to their "garden" where they can plant tomatoes and get in touch with mother-earth. One of them belonged to one of us, and he was going to hold a 5 days party there to celebrate the junction between the Berlin Beach Camp and the Mont Royal camp, another hospex event.
I spent the whole day with them, lazing in the sun, drinking warm beer, cooking, eating, chatting. And left around 5pm to hitchhike home.
 
These progressive reduced interactions (from 1000 to 50 to 10 to 0) helped smoothen the social transition back to a normal life. I got home in the most peaceful mood in the world.