Mishaps with a tent; not as prepared as I thought

A month ago we were packed and heading off to Timber festival. With Covid disrupting life, it had been a while since we'd stayed in the tent but I assumed I'd soon get the hang of it again. 

Preparation is important, especially after a gap, so we practiced putting up the tent and inflating the air-beds, and everything seemed fine. I practiced getting up off the floor. I dug out my alleged 'festival' clothes, varnished my nails, and was ready to go.

But thing didn't run to plan; I should have seen it as a sign when I realised about 10 minutes from home that I'd forgotten my hairbrush! We got there, put up the tent without too much trouble, went back to the car for a second load of clothes/inflatable beds/shoes, and everything seemed fine. But heading downhill to the festival proper I began to realise what a strain carrying things from car park to campsite had been. By half past eight I exhausted, and longing for a comfy bed. When we returned to the tent in the evening one of the beds had deflated, and even on the other I just couldn't settle so we decided to take the easy way out and go home for the night, returning in the morning.

 For a festival half an hour away from home this, while not ideal, proved a workable solution, but a couple of days later I received an invitation for ALSO festival. This wasn't an opportunity I wanted to pass up on, although being in Warwickshire there was no way I could nip home each evening.

 So ... we tested the beds again - this time actually sleeping on them for a night at home - and they were fine; they presumably just hadn't been closed properly. We were ready to go! Sort of.

I'm at stage of age and fitness (ie old and unfit) where I can't go out one weekend, exhaust myself, rest during the week, and be ready to go again the next weekend. ALSO luckily is one of the few festivals where you can drive your car onto the camping site, so no problems with carrying equipment this time. 

Unfortunately it left us a bit careless about choosing where to pitch the tent. While some of the campervans and glamping tents were on flat areas beside the actual festival site, tents were on a slope above. It didn't look too steep from the car, so we chose a spot with a view down to the main stage where we could just see the lake in the distance. Very pretty - if we'd been staying in the tent all weekend - but all the events, plus food and toilets were at the bottom of the slope, and what goes down has to come back up again. Remember my legs hadn't really recovered from the previous weekend (I saw small children running up and down quite happily); a bit more thought and planning would have improved our weekend a lot. 

So, there are lessons to be learned for another time, whether at festivals or on holiday, but I haven't been put off. I like the wildness, and back to nature vibe of staying in the tent, even when it's erected in manicured parkland, and I'm eager to try it on a slightly wilder campsite.

If you'd like to read about the actual festivals rather than my mishaps with a tent, follow the links below

Timber 

ALSO

ALSO 2022

We were barely home from Timber festival when an exciting email dropped in my in-box - an invitation to ALSO festival, being held the next weekend! Would I be interested in press tickets? Ooh, YES, PLEASE! 

I've mentioned ALSO before as my kind of festival; not loud music and dancing till dawm, or at least not JUST that, but a mix of informative talks, music, and (for those wanting to do more than sit back in a field) activities. Numbers are kept to 2000; small enough to feel intimate, large enough to get that festival vibe.

 So, offered the opportunity, how could I refuse?After all, my blog and lifestyle are all about making the most of opportunities regardless of my age, and this is a festival I've been wanting to attend for some years.

Last Friday found us then, car loaded with camping equipment, heading south to Compton Verney, in Warwickshire. The site is possibly the loveliest place ever for a festival - 50 acres of parkland re-shaped and 'landscaped' in the eighteenth century by Capability Brown, and then gradually over the years being allowed to decline into something less formal. The deliberately designed flat areas by the lake are perfect for a main stage, smaller marquees, and food stalls, while paths lead off to the Lake and Woodland stages, a waterside Rum Shack, and the lake itself, home for the weekend to swimmers and paddle-boarders.

I'd started out with a plan - who I wanted to see/hear, which workshops I might like to join in - but I soon drifted away from it in favour of going-with-the-flow, and dropping in on talks or musical performances as they caught my attention. I think the only part of my plan that I stuck to was watching a food prep demonstration from Kathy Slack entitled 'Glut'. An enthusiastic gardener she understands the way home-grown produce varies between famine and feast, and in her book From The Veg Patch conjures up delicious, new ways to use common vegetables when faced with a flood of them. 

Professor Anil Seth

Other than that I wandered in and out of several fascinating talks - Professor Anil Seth talking about how we perceive the world and the difference between 'consciousness' as seen in animals and 'intelligence' as found in computers: sports psychologist, Dr Peter Olusoga, applying his training techniques to everyday life, and Dr Alex George in his 'Live Well Every Day' event talking about mental health, lack of adequate provision through the NHS, and his campaign to improve things. Sometimes I found myself nodding wisely in agreement, sometimes I disagreed with the speaker, but they all made me think. 

Dr Peter Olusoga

Jeffrey Boakye presented a different sort of talk, taking the audience on a history of Black Britain through songs. Stop and really listen to the words, and you'll realise some of the hardships the Black communities face. I missed the beginning of this event, but wished I hadn't.  

Juno Dawson

Wandering past the Lake stage I spotted Juno Dawson, known to me as a YA author, but now presenting her first novel for adult-readers, Her Majesty's Royal Coven, and discussing the similarities between witch hunts and the attacks faced by the LGBTQ community. 

I approached the musical acts in much the same drop in, drop out way. The first on Friday evening was singer/songwriter Luke Jackson,  followed by James Graydon who 'coached' the actors for Bohemian Rhapsody, but after those I rather lost track. There were certainly 'rockier' sounds from Keg and Manor, and Ciaran Lavery tempted us back down to the Main stage when we'd already decided to turn in for the night!   Joining in with the ALSO choir or the Charleston dance ceilidh I left for others with better voices an more energy.

The weather was amazing. Just perfect for lounging around, sipping a non-alcoholic Seedlip spritzer, or eating buffalo-milk ice cream. 

With both bacon cobs and fresh fruit for breakfast, organic lamb burgers sprinkled with pomegranate seeds, and Trinidadian street food from Heart and Soul BBQ, the food was great. If you wanted something more formal there were Ukrainian, Syrian, and Balearic cookery demonstrations/dining experiences to indulge in with tables set out beneath the trees. 

There are probably more things I wish I'd done than things I did. Certainly one of those feasts. An event or experience that clashed with something else. A talk about doughnut economics, because it's something I've heard about but never made sense of. I didn't go swimming in the lake, or try paddle boarding. I didn't learn to make a (non-alcoholic) Bloody Mary or go on a foraging walk. Sometimes there's not just enough time for everything, but I think the feeling of 'didn't get to see everything' is a better one to leave with than 'seen/done it all'; it tempts you back another time.

I have to, out of fairness, mention that it wasn't totally idyllic. We pitched our tent too high on the surrounding slopes. It gave us a great overall view, but left us with a trudge down to the festival area and back uphill at the end of the day or if we'd forgotten anything, and quite a way to go to the toilets in the middle of the night.  And those toilets, though very nice proper flushing loos, weren't really numerous enough and got blocked too quickly. The first could be avoided with a little fore-knowledge; the second happen anywhere with 'off mains' facilities. 

To any readers who maybe think festivals aren't for them, I'd say, give it a go. Stretch your mind a little. Try something new. Come away inspired. 

The way to the woods

Next year's event will be held 14-16 July, and super-earlybird tickets are already on sale here

Timber 2022

I'm still recovering from a weekend of music and activities at Timber Festival on the wonderful Feanedock site in the National Forest. This is the fourth year (with a gap in 2020) that the festival has taken place here and it's a fitting setting for a celebration of woods and outdoors, as not so long ago this area was given over to open-cast mining; now through landscaping and the planting of trees, it's returning to nature. 

With a mix of woodland and open glades, it divides naturally into a series of linked but separate spaces for stages, food vendors, well-being activities, woodland crafts, and campfire discussions. 

Smoke Fairies

Despite all my scribblings in the programme, I didn't find time to everything I would have liked to do. We were there nice and early on Friday to catch Smoke Fairies kicking off the show on the Eyrie stage, and caught lots of incredible acts here and on the bigger Nightingale stage, lying back in the afternoon sun, eating dairy-free ice cream, and letting the music wash over me.

 Favourites? 

Smoke Fairies, atmospheric and haunting. 

The Rajasthan Heritage Brass Band, full of life, Bollywood rhythms, and joyous exuberance.  

Lunatraktors' modern protest songs and clog dancing.

Josienne Clarke silhouetted by the sun

 Josienne Clarke, despite her claims that all her songs seemed a bit melancholy, I loved their gentle sound

Ceitidh Mac on the
beautifully-sited Eyrie stage

In between there was Ivan Campo (an Indie folk trio, not the Spanish footballer), Kabantu, Mishra, Ceitidh Mac, and Haiku Salut, Unfortunately, Holy Moly and the Crackers due to close the festival on Sunday evening, and who I've been trying to catch for years, had to cancel at the last minute (but I might not have still been awake by then). By the way, dancing - whether ceilidh or bollywood - I left to others.

In and among this, I found time to  make wildflower seed balls with the National Memorial Arboretum; I dropped in and out (that's the beauty of an outdoor festival) of various talks and discussions, as wide ranging as Simon Armitage reading from his new book, The Owl and the Nightingale, and Steve Guy, aka The Hungry Guy, showing how to make your own vinegar. The most interesting I found were Louisa Ziane on the amount of waste in food production, and how Toast ale came into being to use up unwanted bread, and Dr Jack Matthews' Beginners Guide to Pebbles about the geology of  pebbles you might find in Charnwood Forest Geopark. 

In another wooded clearing, the Canopy, I watched Lives of Clay a story told through dance and music, mingling of the myths of Parvati and Shiva with a story of a modern Indian woman 

  

There were some slight disappointments - rain showers which found their way into the tent; Holy Moly and the Crackers couldn't perform as I've mentioned above, and Janet Ellis also had to cancel her Wilderness Tracks session; various glitches and injury plagued Timeless performance in a huge hour glass, and it never really seemed dark enough for the Gloaming Light Trail and the Unfurl Giants to be seen at their best.
 

But mainly it was a weekend of blissed out lazing in the sun.

Next year Timber will run from Friday 7th to Sunday 9th July, and Early Bird tickets are on sale now - see here 

I was asked along to Timber, and my ticket paid for, by the organisers Wild Rumpus, though I made a donation to the pay-it-forward scheme which aims to raise fund for free tickets for carers. Views are, of course, my own.

Missing Out - on festivals

 Today is the first day of Timber Festival and I'm a bit downhearted that I didn't feel confident enough to go in some capacity - either volunteer or general public.

I've been twice before as a 'pioneer' - in 2018 and 2019 - blogging about the festival before and after, and tweeting during it - and absolutely loved the experience. Last year I'd intended volunteering (after all seems only fair that having had two free years I should give something back) but I hadn't got that far before Covid stepped in and cancelled everything. Last year though, everyone was missing out so there seemed a certain solidarity about not being able to go. Some of the events went online, and I had a private mini-festival at home.

This year, feels different. The festival is going ahead - and is even sold out - but I didn't dare think of going. I'm not young anymore (over 60) and, although I'm now double vaccinated, after over a year hardly going anywhere to go somewhere with people around feels risky and incredibly strange. I need more time to acclimatise to the 'new normal'.

I do wish I'd been brave enough to go though.

It's made me realise how quickly I've come to love festivals of this nature - not a young person's music festival, but one for all ages which seeks to educate and enlighten as well as entertain. Curious Arts Festival in 2016 my was first experience - a mix of bookish chat during the daytime, and comedy and music at night, held in the grounds of Pylewell Park in Hampshire. And after Timber, I'd discovered others. Also festival in Warwickshire which describes itself as an 'ideas' festival but which also has a range of experiences from yoga to wild swimming you can join in with, and The Good Life Experience in North Wales (another one which I joined online last year) are at the top of my festival 'bucket list', but although both are going ahead this year in one form or another, I've decided to sit things out for a while. 

I miss the excitement. I miss waking to the dawn chorus and sun shining through the tent. I miss festival food, and listening to, or trying, new things that I wouldn't bother with at home. I almost even miss rolling out of bed because the pitch wasn't quite as level as I thought, or overhearing late night conversations from the next-door tent. 

Hopefully next year will be easier for planning ahead because I have so much more I want to do before I get too old!

New Year's Resolutions - at last

 I always say I like the New Year to get settled before I commit to making resolutions. Well, this year I might have left things later than usual, but there are still ten months and some days left, so plenty of time :)

Instead of the usual 'de-clutter' and 'do something arty' resolutions with which I start so many years, I'm going to be re-hashing my 60 Things idea from a few years back. Doing something (anything) new in the middle of a pandemic seems tricky but it IS possible. Anyway, restrictions are starting to ease, and trying or learning something new is always good for us - it stretches the brain, expands our horizons, and gives us something to do while we're holed up at home.

In part I've gone about this the wrong way round - doing a few new things and then deciding to turn them into a resolution, but doing something different throughout January and February was good for me, so extending for a year seems like an excellent idea.

First up, I took part in Veganuary, trying to cut meat and cheese from my diet for a month (I gave myself a 'pass' on milk as I didn't want to cancel my doorstep delivery). Then I decided that, months after everyone else, it was time to set up a sourdough culture and bake bread. And lastly I stumbled upon the concept of online escape rooms, played with family members from the lockdown safety of our own living rooms. 

Going forward I have lots of hopes for new places to visit, new festivals to attend, but until the end of March we'll all stick be stuck at home, so I'm looking for ideas to tide me through, and re-visiting something I talked about doing last year.

Back in Autumn I joined in with The Good Life Experience At Home - a festival that should have taken place at Hawarden Castle but ended up online - and with my activity pack for the weekend I received a preview of The Good Life Handbook. It contains fourteen activities for fourteen weekends, ideas ranging from fungi foraging to darning, from making a slingshot to making herbal teas (the full-sized Handbook contains more). I'm not intending to do all of them, nor confine myself to these suggestions, but it seems like a useful starting point and a spring-board for other ideas. 

More on this as the year progresses with a complete list here

From The Jam - at Rock City, Nottingham

Another week, another gig night!

I'm starting, gradually, to get back into the normal swing of things, so the other Sunday we were off to Nottingham's Rock City  to see a band, or perhaps more accurately part of a band, from my youth. The Jam split in the early 80s, but Bruce Foxton (from the original Jam line up) and Russell Hastings keep their sound going.

looking through the sound booth

If you follow thus blog very closely (does anyone?) you'll know that, despite all the gigs I go out to, I've only been to Rock City once before and that was years ago (to see Frank Turner). On that occasion though I'd found myself a great place to stand - just behind the sound booth - and that's where I headed this time. It's not as close to the stage as some folks no doubt like to get but it's a little elevated so you can see over everyone in front.

The Vapors

Opening the night were another band from back in the good old days - The Vapors (Turning Japanese) - and the audience seemed mainly folks of my age who'd remember both groups from way back when. It made for a quieter evening than usual - less bouncing around in the mosh pit, more nodding along to the tunes :)

It was good night though. I never got to see The Jam live but this felt very close, and their sound hasn't grown old.

Deaf Havana - The Venue, Derby

 I seem to have been caught up in one of those periods of life when there's so much happening that there isn't time to blog about it - which is basically an excuse for not having posted pics of a Deaf Havana gig at Derby's The Venue from about a fortnight ago. Here they are ...

If you've not heard of Deaf Havana, they're a rock band from King's Lynn in Norfolk, which somehow doesn't seem like the obvious place to form a rock band but apparently there's little else to do in Norfolk. Anyway, I've been listening to them for a long time, originally due to my youngest daughter discovering them, and in a roundabout way it was because of them that we first visited King's Lynn and Hunstanton while holidaying in Norfolk.

It's taking some time for me to get back to 'normal' after this last year, and it's been ages since I went out to a gig (Skinny Lister back in April). We'd bought tickets in advance and to be honest if we hadn't I might have bailed on going out. Deaf Havana are loud and noisy, but with a lot of angst and anguish in their lyrics - maybe not the kind of songs I want to hear at the moment. But ... all sorts of people say going out, listening to music, hanging out in a crowd are good for lifting your mood, and after all the tickets were already paid for, so I went along - and, guess what? All those people are right. 

I've seen them play once before at Nottingham's Rough Trade, but this was their first appearance in Derby for (I think they said) seven years. I remember the Rough Trade gig as packed solid, and hot. The Venue's a bigger venue (sorry), and, although there was probably a bigger crowd, it didn't feel as full. Unlike Rough Trade where a lot of punters seemed there out of curiosity, this was definitely a room full of fans ready to sing along all night. As you'd possibly expect, these were mainly youngsters but I wasn't the only 'oldie' there. 

It was a good night, and in retrospect I'm glad I went. I need to get back into the habit of going back out to gigs but for now I'm off to Norfolk soon, and I'll no doubt be heading round by Hunstanton to visit Boston Square and the pier.

So Many Festivals, So Little Time

Once summer actually arrives there's never quite enough time to do everything you'd like to. It's certainly the case with festivals. There are so many out there - inspiring, fun-filled and delightful - but, with only a certain number of weekends for them to take place on, some are bound to clash.

Here are some I wish I could go to, if it weren't for other plans ...

Tangled Roots - photo credit; Camilla Arnhold

First, this weekend, is a new festival  - Tangled Roots at Radford Mill Farm in Somerset. It describes itself as a 'Contemporary Folk, Roots and Acoustic Festival' with music ranging from India Electric Co with their award-winning contemporary folk, to French gypsy jazz from Petites Annonces, a cappella, acoustic soul, roots Americana, and traditional Spanish music and dance from Flamenco Loco. As well as performances on stage, there'll be a choir workshop, a chance to try flamenco dancing yourself, campfire story-telling from Noah and the Whale's Matt Owens, and impromptu acoustic sessions around the site, or at evening by the campfire, that everyone can join in with.
It's location sounds idyllic - an organic farm with a stream running through the festival site

I already have tickets for a local festival this weekend - no, not Download, although that's not far from here, but a quieter affair, Wildside run by Derbyshire Wildlife Trust - but maybe next year I'll head south to Somerset ...


Also Festival, at Compton Verney, Warwickshire, is another fab-sounding event. It's a much bigger affair than Tangled Roots, offering over 200 experiences over the weekend 5th -7th July.










There will be talks and discussions to stretch your mind, music and comedy to entertain, food to keep you going, and a wide range of activities to take part in, from light sabre workshops to wild swimming.



 Where would I start? Well, what attracts me is the mix of informative talks, and hands-on experiences, so I'd maybe head to hear Margaret Macmillan on The Uses and Abuses of History, or James Wallman talk about Time and How To Spend It (as relevant to a person of my advancing near-retirement years as to younger folks), then make a flower crown, and join a foraging walk, though checking out the wide range of food on offer, from Tibetan curries to pizza, seems like a 'must' too.

This year though, Timber Festival falls on the same weekend, and I'll be covering that.

photo credit; Michael Bowles

Heading down to Cornwall later in July, you'll find another festival of ideas, Port Eliot. Running 25th - 28th July this year, this is timed awkwardly for me as it falls close to, some years actually on, a family birthday.

photo credit; Sarah Louise Bennett

 There are several stages showcasing different musical styles, so there's bound to be something for everyone, though I'd probably give the late night pop dungeon a miss :) I'd head instead to the estate's Church, the oldest in Cornwall, for some quieter acoustic sounds.

The church. photo credit; Linday Melbourne

Around the grounds you'll find a wide range of activities from river-based activities like wild swimming, mud baths, and canoeing, to star-gazing, yoga sessions, and Viking tournament games.

photo credit; Louise Roberts

The literary line-up boasts novelists, journalists, and comedians; there'll be cookery demonstrations to inspire your meal-times; and the drawing room of the house will play host to an exhibition celebrating fifty years in the fashion industry for designer Zandra Rhodes.
 An event mixing art, fashion and books with music and comedy, set on the riverside Port Eliot estate in a romantic landscape designed by Repton, sounds like another one I should catch sometime (and preferably before I'm too old to enjoy a few nights under canvas)


Looking further ahead, I've spotted another festival clash - Derby's own street festival Feste takes place the same late September weekend as Deepdale Festival in north Norfolk. Sometimes I feel a time machine is the only answer to doing everything I'd love to!