Wednesday 26 August 2015

Beautiful Days. Again.

Here be dragon.
No let up to the schedule, this week I'm at Beautiful Days in Devon - which I stewarded last year as well, and indeed wrote a blog entry about.  That festival finished up on a somewhat sour note with a crane accident, and doubtless as a result of that, this year I have to sit through a twenty minute health and safety induction before being allowed on site.  At least when I do get to the campsite I have a bit of luxury, as for this festival only I have borrowed my brother's campervan, so I have a proper bed and even my own shower, oh yes.  Nice to have a refuge for the Wednesday and Thursday, as there isn't a lot going on at the festival other than rain.

Friday, and my shift starts at 10am, guarding the beer of all things behind the main bar.  It is safe in my hands.  Then I shift over to the main arena, which is rather cool, not really anything to do other than, I assume fill a requirement for so many stewards per paying customer.  And I get to watch the bands, starts off with Kim Churchill (male, Australian), and then Coco and the Butterfields (none of them seem to be called Coco).  Then off to party, I watch the Moulettes on stage two, then I quite fancy the Circus of Horrors in the theatre tent, but it is full.  Good news is 3 Daft Monkeys - well, two of 'em - are playing an unscheduled set on the bandstand, most cool.  Of course I end up in the Bimble Inn, watch Flight Brigade and Land of the Giants, then generally jump about.  All good fun.

Monkeys!
Saturday and I'm feeling a bit worse for wear, good thing my shift doesn't start until 6pm.  Well, I have a book to read... eventually I emerge from the van, go watch Hobo Jones on stage two (includes playing of guitar with a hammer).  Then to work, again mostly on the main stage, so this time I get to see Hudson Taylor, Hoffmaestro and Idlewild.  Then just as the Dropkick Murphys are starting, disaster strikes.  I realise that I have managed to lose the keys to the van somewhere.  The spare set is in Surrey... this is really not good, and now the fact that it is chucking it down with rain changes from something I can cope with to a bit of a problem given I have nowhere to sleep and all my dry stuff is in the van.  I retrace my steps, but really it is impossible, so I call the RAC who eventually answer the phone, and promise to send somebody to try to break in.  But then looking at the van, I realise I can get in through a loose window, just about.  Cancel the RAC, still have the problem of getting the spare keys to me though.  Oh and the window I opened won't shut again... oops.  I try a bit harder, maybe it is just a bit bent, oops again.  With various popping noises the hinge breaks on one side, and one of the plastic window panes breaks.  At least I can shut the damn thing now and try to get to sleep, with little success.

The lovely Bimble Inn, with Flight Brigade.
Next day, and more bad news as I realise the awning at the side of the van is also broken.  Sigh.  At least I get in touch with my brother and he reckons he can get the key to me via UPS.  A little worrying leaving the thing unlocked while I go to work for Oxfam, but I get away with it.  Also kind of hard being the 'smiling face of the festival' today.  I watch Katzenjammer, Gogol Bordello and the Levellers of course, I am on the main stage again.  It provides some distraction from my woes I suppose.  Less good is when Dan phones to say UPS don't guarantee twenty-four hour delivery, so I could be here until Wednesday.  Aargh.

Gogol Bordello.
In the event my sister in law Donna heroically drives all the way to Devon with the key, which does mean we can spend the evening and next day around Lyme Regis, which is nice.  There is even a funfair...  Of course it would be better if we didn't get soaked to the skin while walking down to the sea on the Tuesday morning, but obviously it has to rain every single day.  Well, I hear on the radio that it isn't the wettest August since records began, just the wettest in a hundred years.  So that is OK then.


Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Tuesday 18 August 2015

Boomtown

Final safety checks in Barrio Loco.
Another weekend, another festival.  This has a somewhat intimidating reputation, something like the most hardcore dance areas of Glastonbury expanded to make an entire festival, this and the pretty awful weather forecast means I'm feeling a little doubtful when I turn up.  It's a short ride from my parents anyway, and can't complain about the Oxfam marquee containing a real ale bar.  Still feel like getting out of the site on the Thursday morning though, so I go for a wander as far as Twyford and get a pub lunch.  Pleasant country here on the South Downs, not far from Winchester in fact.  Getting back I am due on shift, which turns out to be guarding exits on the Poco Loco, in the downtown area - all dance music here.  At least in Poco Loco there are live acts, and while it (rap?  hip-hop?) isn't really my cup of tea it is still cool.  In fact the shift goes pretty fast, shame that when I finish at midnight, all the music does too.  Not least I am starting to get the feeling there is some pretty good stuff going on around here...

The Jolly Dodger.  Yaaaar!
Friday, and I have the whole day free, well, except for having to go on shift back in the Poco Loco at midnight, until 8am.  Trying to put that out of my mind I wander the site, and what I find is really rather awesome.  The festival consists of a large number of little themed regions, for instance there is one part where uniformed figures patrol and subject the revellers to searches and authoritative notices warn of dire punishments, though of course it is all a hastily constructed facade - but enough of the drug policy enforcement at the entrance.  There is also a Wild West town, an Aztec temple, Chinatown, a South American barrio, the dystopian future of DSTRKT 5, and many more.  All the areas have a one or more main stages, plus numerous little venues often accessed through quirkily designed fronts, appearing to be anything from a post office or job centre to a saloon, brothel or who knows what.  I spend a lot of time at the pirate ship - the Jolly Dodger - and also the Old Mine, the Town Centre, and the Rusty Spur.  Shame I can't really drink other than a few pints at lunch, and the less said about the all night stewarding shift the better.

An actual band.  Jellycats I think.
After a few hours sleep on Saturday morning I venture out again, there is so much music here it is hard to stay in one place long, so I don't really get a handle on the bands I watch.  A lot of them though... while it is mainly dance music here, of many varieties, there is a lot of live stuff too, plenty of Gypsy, Klezmer, Ska, Punk, anything you can dance to really.  I jump up and down with a big grin on my face, and I do remember a few names, La Pegatina, Jellycats, Flogging Molly, Formidable Vegetable Soundsystem!  To finish the evening I watch the pirate ship circus which is rather excellent, trapeze wenches, a live band accompaniment and a fire, fireworks and cannon show to finish as the pirates fight their way into the old town of Boomtown.  Can't really make this a late one though as I am on shift again at 7.45am on Sunday.

Rather than back at the Poco Loco, my Sunday shift is listed as 'response' - basically means I have to cover if the stewarding team is short in any way.  This turns out to mean I get promoted to supervisor when one of the guys doesn't turn up... OK, I can do this.  In a rather cool combination of festival stewarding and long distance hiking, I actually walk along the South Downs Way to get to my shift location, turns out I'm responsible for a vehicle crossing point and one of the 'forest parties'.  It is nice to be walking around rather than stuck in one place, and I manage to remember all of my team's names and get their breaks in at reasonable times.  It is a little stressful though, dealing with security who seem to have pretty high expectations of us stewards, when after all we're just untrained volunteers.  Still I get through it, sleep deprived though I may be, feel just a bit tired when I finish the shift though.  Only have a little lie down though, there is a festival happening after all.  I watch the pirate circus again, seems it is a bit earlier today.  Gradually feel a bit better thanks to the healing power of wine, and by midnight I'm dancing around to the cowpunk sound of Pronghorn with my big grin back on.  I get to do this every week!

With my supervisor tabard on.
Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Tuesday 11 August 2015

Boardmasters

Burgh Island, and 'the contraption' crossing over to the mainland.
The next festival keeps me on the South West Coast Path, but quite a way along it, Boardmasters being just outside Newquay.  A long way to ride even from Dorset, so instead I stop for a night at Bigbury-on-Sea, scene of many a happy childhood holiday.  Can't complain about £6 for a night's camping, and I get my fill of nostalgia by taking the hydraulic sea tractor - or, as it'll always be to me, 'the contraption' - over to Burgh Island (pronounced 'burr').  Lunch in the Pilchard Inn, then as the tide has gone out I can walk back to the mainland, pack up and ride to Newquay in time for the steward briefing, after which I manage to get to Porth for a beer or two.

Boardmasters camping filling up.  The wind turbine is where Oxfam were camped, yay.
Wednesday, and my shift handing out wristbands goes smoothly enough, nice to have some useful work to do at least, not that it is too busy this early in the week.  Finishing at 4pm means I can get into Newquay itself, which is pretty quiet midweek, still I have a few beers, a pasty, find some live music and even have a little dance.  It is a long walk back though.  More wristbands on Thursday, this time 4pm 'til midnight, so in the morning I wander down to Porth and along Trevelgue Head, interesting place, site of an Iron Age cliff castle apparently.  I get some cans from the nearby(ish) Tesco express before getting on with work.  Wow, there is an awful lot of booze getting confiscated from the teenage festival goers.  Really didn't need to buy any...

Some Cornish coastline, including Padstow lifeboat station.
Friday, and I have the day off, so believe it or not I go for a walk.  Bus to Padstow and then the Coast Path back to the festival site, really not far as the crow flies.  Seems the path is a bit flatter here, indeed quite often it is along the beach, but, it does really make an effort to follow the coastline, faithfully sticking to the line of every inlet and headline.  This makes for a very long walk back, and it is 8pm before I reach the festival, just in time for Everything Everything on the main stage.  They're pretty good, but the crowd is entirely made up of teenagers... I'm sure they're individually lovely, but en masse they are hard to take.  I retreat to the 'Land of Saints', where there is a pub!  The 'Keg and Pasty' has, well, beer and pasties, but also a stage with music more likely to appeal to grown ups.  Such as the entertaining Lounge Kittens... I also wander over to the nearby acoustic stage, where me and a small number of others brave freezing winds to watch the charming Laura Doggett.

Saturday, still no work so I wander the festival site a bit, check out a few bands (Mahalia, the Alibis) over the course of the day, but decide to get away from the teenagers for the evening and spend it in Newquay instead.  The crowds of hen and stag parties are as entertaining as ever... Then on Sunday I am back to work at 6pm, so, I have the day free, might as well do a bit of surfing.  Turns out I'm still not very good at it, but never mind.  Work passes swiftly enough, I variously shout at the drunken revellers though a megaphone, or gesticulate air hostess style while somebody else shouts.  All good fun.  As was this festival really, though I'm not sure I'd pay to come here, drunken teenagers have a limited appeal to be honest.  Anyway, back to Surrey for a rest - wow that is a long way to ride.

Cowabunga!
Photos to go with this post can be found here.

Monday 10 August 2015

Camp Bestival

Classic telephone box at Tyneham.
Another Wednesday, time to rock up at another festival site, this one at Lulworth Castle in Dorset.  Crew camping is ideally placed next to a pub, so after the Oxfam briefing I sink a few pints, there is even a band, named 4GoMad.  I get the reference.  No work and not much festival on Thursday so off for a walk of course.  Just a mile or so to the sea, but on the way I find Tyneham, the 'village that died for D-Day'.  Fascinating to see the ruined houses, evacuated in 1943, and the restored church, schoolhouse and farm.  From here I walk through the Lulworth Range, plenty of evidence of ongoing military activity here, wrecked tanks litter the landscape.  On to the charming Lulworth Cove where I eat a truly huge pasty, and then need a lie down.  My route has followed the South West Coast Path, and it is clearly a tough one, climbing one cliff after another from sea level.  I leave it at Durdle Door, a rock arch eroded from the cliff between two bays, from here it isn't too far back to the pub.  Oh and the campsite.

Durdle Door.
There is a festival on of course... and I have work to do.  I start my shift at 8am on Friday, patrolling the kids fields which make up around half of this most child friendly of festivals, and it really isn't much work.  Mainly we give directions, enjoy the sunshine and listen to music at various venues dotted around.  Then I have 4pm on to myself, more music then, seems to be a bit punk here, Buzzcocks are on for instance.  I find my home for the festival at the Caravanserai, there is gypsy music as you'd expect, and the rather good Immigrant Swing.

A job suited to my skills.
Saturday, and my shift doesn't start 'til 4pm, so I have a lie in then head back to Durdle Door, I've been told you can swim through the arch, round the headland to a different cove.  Turns out you can - it is pretty hard work though.  Then back on shift, the kids field again, seems I can magically reunite parents with children merely by starting the process of reporting the situation over the radio.  Then a few hours on an arena, yay.  Seems that from 7pm the main kids arena does 16+ comedy, it is rather cool, and very rude.  I get off at midnight, time for a few beers, and back to the Caravanserai for steampunk shenanigans with The Men Who Will Not Be Blamed For Nothing.  I had forgotten how metal they are...

Dolly the giraffe.
Same shift again on Sunday, so, I spend the morning wandering the site, and lying down a fair bit.  I eat a sausage and raclette baguette from the thoroughly middle class food court, then back to work.  Still the kids field, but today mostly on a gate, so I get to watch the festival go by, this includes among other things a giraffe and a velociraptor (both life sized puppets), Bob Geldof (probably not a puppet) and a most impressive parade.  Then off to the castle, where us stewards get the best seats for the rather awesome festival closing fireworks.  And still time to get to the Caravanserai for more familiar faces, the Guns of Navarone.

Well... this was really good fun, a lovely part of the world and a great festival, somehow the kiddiness of it adds up to a really great atmosphere.  Certainly recommended to anybody with children.

Photos to go with this post can be found here.