Since camping at all but the first Witnness events, and attending the Sunday night of the first Oxegen in 2004, it's been the better part of a decade since my last music festival (Slane isn't a festival) and, much like buses, this year I've been to two! The Longitude festival was held in Marley Park, not far from where I live and work, and the Electric Picnic celebrated it's tenth anniversary in Stradbally, Co Laois.
I wore the same work boots I had with me at Punchestown many moons ago, they were given to me as a health and safety requirement in a temporary warehouse job I took a lifetime ago, during a three week break between semesters during my Grad Dip in UL and the only positive from that job. Regrettably I had to retire my musical companions as the sole of the right boot finally conceded defeat on Sunday afternoon when it cracked, and the metal plate between it and the in sole of the boot snapped back, rendering the boot useless. They've served me well these past years, and I hope to replace them with a similar pair as soon as possible.
Among other firsts at the EP was my first yoga class. Waking early on Sunday morning (well, earlier than I had planned) and unable to regain a state of slumber, I walked first around the campsite and then on to the main concert site. Wandering around in the ealry morning, with little of the guests for company and precious few stalls open, I did feel an odd sense of serenity. While passing a tent for some local businesses in Cloughjordan, Co Tipperary, I noticed an sign for a free yoga class starting at 11, seeing as it was 10:40 or so, I resolved to try it out. The instructor began by asking was it anyone's first time, and happily I wasn't alone in making my debut. Of the class of about 30, I'd estimate there were eight others attempting this for the first time. The instructor took us through some basic breathing exercises, and then into some simple movements, before some intermediate poses, including one developed at the EP by her and a partner. While I didn't really get the breathing correct during the class, I found the movements and poses relatively easy to complete. I've been attending the local gym regularly after work and my warmup includes some similar stretches.
While the art, comedy and spoken word attractions were the big differences from the Oxegen and Witnness festivals of old, it's the little changes that struck me the most. Whereas in festivals past, facilities were kept to a minimum, there's been a mass growth in the cottage industry of offerings to festival attendees, offering everything from massages to phone recharging to ATMs (incidentally the only queue longer than the ladies toilets was for the ATMs!). Londis had a pop-up shop at the campsite in Stradbally, and the Irish Time's Ticket supplement was given away for free on each day with reviews of the previous day's events.
Ep has a reputation for being more family-friendly and I did find this the case with many young children in attendance, which did give a more relaxed atmosphere to proceedings. There were many infants as well, with one girl passing us pushing a buggy carrying a child that had not yet seen his first Christmas! One downside of this was that many remained in attendance in the main arean after the sun had passed below the horizon and night had set in. While there's nothing wrong with this in theory, in practise this meant a child could disappear without notice and be left alone in the dark, in a field with more than 30,000 people, (many of whom in were in later stages of intoxication) and with mobile phone coverage at a premium. I can only imagine what this would do to a parent.
What I had noticed at Longitude and moreso at EP was the reappearance of symbols of 60's flower child idealism, girls wearing flowers in their hair, beaded hairbands and CND-branded clothing. What troubled me was the flowers and beads were plastic and mass-manufactured, instead of real and hand woven, and clothes bearing the symbols of peace and tolerance were made and sold by fashion houses with more eyes on the bottom line than anything the icons they stood for. I wondered did these children of children of the cultural decade ,and the pivot of change that followed it, believe in what they wore, or did they just want others to think they did?
I doubt this will be my last festival, or that another nine harvests will be reaped before I attend another, but I cannot imagine myself camping again. While not unable to function without the creature comforts of home, the simple fact is that, in my fourth decade, the recovery time is longer, the stiffness less bearable and the cold night air more penetrating. C'est la vie.
