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Well we’d heard nothing but good reports about this little festival, the second of two held each year. One, in Spring at the start of the season, and this one at the end of another summer with patchy weather! Now on their 16th festival the organisers have perfected a great weekend.

We needn’t have worried about the weather, just as was case with the spring one, the whole weekend was scorchingly hot and remained warm all night. What we had to worry about was the traffic getting there. I’d recommend planning to arrive early on the Friday as the M5 was atrocious and we added nearly two hours to our journey time, getting there long after the sun had set.

Even so the moonlight was bright and it was easy to pitch the tent and helpful friends took time out from the bar to direct us to where everyone had camped together. It’s always nice to spend a festival in a group and the efestivals community is always friendly to newbies, like we have been at many of the festivals this year. Virtual friends on the forums have become good friends in real life now.

After erecting the tent we got our wristbands and headed in to a festival unlike any other we’d been to this year. It reminded me more of a folk festival in set up and in fact the line up boasted a few folk acts. That’s not to say the audience was a particularly folk one, there was a good mix of families, young and old, alternative types, bearded folkies and festival die hards and with easy access I was pleased to see a few wheelchair bound folks able to enjoy the festival too, with us instead of in those enclosures many bigger festivals offer.

There were about 50 ales on offer, plus a well stocked main bar and despite forgetting to bring my own tankard, I could hire one for a £1 deposit. A great idea, which greatly reduced litter in the marquee, the Chill Out stage and the courtyard in the centre. Unfortunately it took me two days of using the same glass before I cottoned on to the fact I could exchange it for a fresh one each time I ordered.

We’d heard the food was a bit limited, but with hearty breakfasts, yummy rolls, jacket potatoes, and crepes on offer I have to say it was nowhere near as limited as some festivals this year. Our daughter had food she was prepared to eat and so everything was rosy.

The first act that we caught were Blue Horses, though we didn’t actually manage more than a cursory glance, they sounded excellent. The festival’s heart is as I mentioned a courtyard, with plenty of chairs and it was here we banded together making a central meeting point where we welcomed new people and old friends and were able to strike out to the bars and the Chill Out stage.

Next up after a slight delay, were The Peatbog Faeries, finally we got to see them and I wasn’t disappointed! A glorious set that went on for hours was a great dancing session with pipes and fiddles and a wealth of great tunes. They went down a storm in the hot marquee and everyone left with a grin, despite the real ale bar closing well before they finished.

Not that it mattered, the main bar, a traditional wooden enclave had two excellent beers on offer in The Priory – much fun trying to order that I called it Pirate most of the night and others mistook the name too and Directors. The heat however meant the coolers couldn’t cope with the lagers and they fobbed heavily delaying the throngs at the bar from quick service.

Back out in the buzzing courtyard, jugglers and light poi were the order of the day and I met so many new friends I just couldn’t remember all of them the next day, when re-introductions were necessary! Best of all, the Chill Out stage, described to me as the disco, had Andy Skank laying down some great ska and reggae until about 2am when Dr Matt took over with world music and rootsy stuff until silly o’clock – I can’t remember it finishing or getting back to the tent.

I was awoken the next day by some seriously loud planes landing at the nearby airport before snoozing until a more sensible hour, it was only a short wander to get coffee and a bite to eat and because the site is a proper campsite open all year around, the toilet facilities, showers and drinking water points were close by and excellent throughout.

We were soon back in the courtyard again, before having a wander through the various stalls, a nice variety of ‘tat’ (as we jokingly refer to it before traders get angry with me) was on offer and meant I was able to focus my eyes and get my brain working again. We chilled in the scorching sunshine, until early afternoon when thankfully cloud cover made the day easier to bear and after an ale or two wandered into the marquee to listen to some traditional folk tunes and the tales around them by folk legend Martin Carthy.

To be honest nasal tales of woe don’t rock my boat, so I slid off to the Chill Out stage, to sit in the decorated dark cool room, watching the mirrorball splash light over the paintings of mushrooms and abstract art on the walls while David Wyatt sang and played some truly beautifully crafted songs. It fortified me greatly and I was refreshed and ready to get my groove on when the wonderful Three Wheel Drive entertained us with some delicious bluesy tunes and a few excellent covers.

Sweating, but happy I ventured back out to the courtyard to see the festival in full swing and a multitude of festie people, dogs and children making merry in the sun drenched square. Inside the long wooden tables were full of frenetic conversations, out of the sun, and some impromptu singing and guitars, drums and mandolins were again starting to play. Vaguely in the back of my mind I remembered donning a left handed acoustic guitar the night before and joining in on a few songs but the memory was very hazey.

Taking time out after a flourishing display of Flamenco Dancers and during the hour of sound checks to relax back at the tent, sup a few cans we’d brought for the tent, they aren’t allowed in the Festival proper, we talked and ate and watched the kids play water fights. I tried to work out how to push my daughter on one of the swings at the nearby climbing frame but clearly my timing had gone awry! However, it’s the time spent like this that makes a festival for many.

Re-charged we went back through the large building, full of a multitude of rooms, lots of solid wooden tables and benches, to the courtyard again. There we enjoyed the delights of the main stage again, the heat had resulted in the sides being taken off the marquee affording a better view for many, and with the collective fun of Fat Digester and the hugely talented and recommended T & Latouche’s funky reggae we were loving it.

I ventured back to the Chill Out stage to catch a gloriously beautiful female singer (I know not who, I think it was Virginia Mcnaughton) do a soul touching version of Jeff Buckley’s The Siren and for a while I was in heaven. Which meant I missed the announcement coinciding on the main stage that the Ozrics had (surprise, surprise) been stuck in traffic at Coventry and only one of them was here, T & Latouche would play an extended set – fantastic more dancing – while they hoped the rest of the Ozrics and their kit could get to us. Otherwise we’d get a solo DJ set instead.

I didn’t find out until I headed into the courtyard, where rumours abounded, including the fantastical suggestion that Gong had turned up and would be re-instated as headliners after cancelling their tour, which left me reeling. So I went off to investigate. Heading outside I saw a taxi arrive and Jon and the missing Ozrics step out, happy returned to our party to impart the good news.

Sure enough they glided onto the hot little stage, they played forever, they were totally fantastic as ever, though to a few they clearly weren’t their cup of tea, and a few bemused faced people sauntered off to the other stage to catch the more traditional sounds of Billy and the Low Ground. I know because my daughter had decided to fall asleep, so I kept nipping out from the frenetic dancing at the front to check she was okay.

This also meant I got to catch the Ozrics from various vantages, something I’ve rarely managed and even from the back they were mesmerizing, more so, to see the whirling front third of the audience in full swing. I also noted that the real ale bar had again closed early, this time with no beer or cider left for the next day.

Once again the main bar was in full flow though, and it also had two sets of musicians jamming well into the night, after Ozrics finally climaxed and we went in search of more aural pleasure. DJ AJ and Talisman & Herb, kept the tunes dropping in the Chill Out stage. But I left all that to take daughter back to her bed, and then sit out in the barmy evening to hear them from the tent. Much later I found the comfort of my sleeping bag, and much later still the rest of our encampment tumbled home.

Sunday was hot right from the off, too hot to stay in the tent, and shade was sought, some finding it under the ancient trees, some under awnings and some beside their tents or vehicles. Thirsty, I went down to the courtyard to swelter and drink beer that was the temperature of warm tea in minutes. More circus skills, casualties of the night before, and Dante Ferrera (who sounded like the guy who did the theme to BlackAdder) and his various instruments from Lute to Hurdy Gurdy kept us entertained with songs from bygone ages.

Sunday, though the most organised day, also has the least on, with only three acts programmed and only the main marquee open. The East of England Singers reminded us it was Sunday with their choral tunes as we baked in the heat. Before Jerry Cahill came on to nearly comatose the crowd with the most chilled out guitar playing I’d ever heard. It was certainly Sunday as many of the crowd crashed out on the carpeted floor of the marquee.

The last act, was a revelation, Skilda a Celtic band, with wondrous lyrics from their female singer in a Clannad style, glorious fiddle playing, keyboards to float away on, and pipes to jig to all wrapped with foot tapping drums and bass. They kept the crowd there enthralled for an hour or two.

I enjoyed them immensely, but bizarrely the organizers closed the bar before they came on, so I heeded my daughter’s requests to head back to the near deserted campsite to say goodbyes to those still there and cadge a can of beer or two. It meant I didn’t get a chance to say my goodbyes to some, enjoying the excellent Skilda. I hope those I never had the opportunity to say my goodbyes to read this because I’d like to say, thank you all for your fantastic company and see you in the same place in eight month’s time for the start of the festival season. No doubt the weather will again be glorious!

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