I had never been to a festival before, so I thought I'd give it a go. A friend was off to the Big Green Gathering and invited me along. I adore the West Country anyway, I was in the mood for adventure and whatever the few days away might hold.
It held mud!
Ali had once gone to Glastonbury Festival to run a charity stand but surprised me by telephoning on the first afternoon; this was in the days before mobile phones. "IT WAS LIKE WAKING UP IN HELL!" she declared, before describing how they had arrived in the dark and inadvertantly pitched their tent on a thoroughfare before being told to move it.They were back in Sussex by lunchtime.
Another rather unusual acquaintance had told me how the toilets at a festival she had gone to had been so dreadful that she'd resorted to using a carrier bag in her tent, though how that was any improvement at all was beyond me. The sound of the chemical loos being cleaned every morning was a delight, the anticipation of a few hours of relative cleanliness exciting beyond belief, and night-time visits were assisted by the wearing of a head-lamp.
The farm just outside Cheddar was a wonderful place, and the Gathering was organised like a small town, with various zones dedicated to Green Issues such as alternative technology, crafts, healing, music, shopping, children and food. I soon became hooked on chai, wonderfully warm and spicy, the perfect winter-warmer for the July mud-bath we had all chosen to share. My prevailing memory is of the laughter, as we slooshed about in the ever deepening mud, lone wellies stuck firmly into the tracks while their owners watched from the edges, one bare foot suspended until some passing hero retrieved them. After two days and nights of rain the skies cleared, the sun shone and we were able to leave our anoraks in the tents. It was too late for the ground, which was still having to rest the following year, I heard, but we basked in the glorious sun.
Musically, the highlight for me was probably Riven, a blend of haunting shamanic sounds and modern trance, performed in a solar-powered circus style tent. The enthusiastic African Drumming formed a heartbeat that never ended, audible from every place on site. We also spent time as wandering minstrels ourselves, our didge-drum-bowl-flute and voice ensemble. We had some magical moments in a small outdoor temple area, sitting by a fountain. One of the many refreshment tents invited us to perform, and an impromptu workshop with some children was a delight. By night, we sat around camp-fires sharing stories and night-caps.
For me, it was tremendously freeing, a timeless experience. A most beautiful adventure!