The Big Chill

A few days ago, we were told that a festival of epic proportions is about to take place in an adjacent beach, only 20 kilometers away from where we reside.
At first we were quite the skeptics, but then we had a chance to authenticate the existence of this fabled festival online.
But, a disturbing piece of information was also divulged to us - the entrance fee.
50 Euros.
No way will a group of poor travelers like us part with 50 Euros, the equivalent to a week of living in India with splendor beyond belief, just for 2 days of music.
And so it came to be that we devised a plan, to get inside at all costs (err, apart from the aforementioned 50 Euros).
So we waited until the last day of the festival and made our way there, thinking there must be some way for us to sweet talk our way in, or sneak inside.
Our attempts at cajoling our way in were futile, so we waited until it got dark and made our way under a part of the fence which was located next to an atrociously foul smelling lavatory.
When we got in, it turned out that a very famous group called Coldcut, whom I appreciate tremendously, was about to play. We were joyfuly giddy and needless to say it was one of the best night I've spent here.