Have you ever fancied going to a festival? Kendal Calling perhaps? Clare did. Who’s Clare you might ask? Clare is a good friend of mine who decided that right at the top of her bucket list should be a festival experience, minus camping. Kendal Calling, held in Lowther Deer Park, was to be the festival of choice. Being the good friends that we are, we decided to help Clare notch one off the list. After all, a weekend in the Lake District B&B, accompanied with good music and friends didn’t sound too much of a bad deal. Go on, then!
However, when Kendal Calling didn’t sell day tickets and decided that weekend ticket holders weren’t entitled to exit and re-enter the festival, camping became our only option. Discussing it in our local, we mulled it over; three nights of camping, how hard could it really be? Turns out, hard. Very hard indeed for our GHD, rollers and shower loving selves. Oh, how our future selves would have laughed, then laughed some more. I’m talking deep, uncontrollable belly laughs at our pure naivety and blind optimism.
Arriving at the Kendal Calling drop off point, we were right to be a little concerned at the impending trek to the campsite. Loaded up, we struggled with the elegance of obese camels in the midday sun to find the perfect place to pitch our tent. Hot, bothered, narked but pitch found successfully, our thoughts and sentiments were echoed with the arrival of Lynsey and Liz and those words of greeting, “Please don’t laugh, or I may want to smack you in the face.” Priceless.
Pitched perfectly, we headed into the arena. Now, every time I mention the arena, I don’t mean that in a Hunger Games way. This arena was a magical land of music and wonder: carousels, big wheels, fantastical houses, numerous tents filled with music, bars…I could have pitched a tent there quite happily… with the help of Clare (tent pitcher extraordinaire).
Naturally, as fans of The Charlatans, the first thing to do was to find Tim’s diner, the aptly named Tim Peaks. It was to become our home away from home, or shelter away from tent, and little did we know then, our shelter from the upcoming torrential rain. Oh yes, that bad boy was in waiting.
The sun was shining, the festival cider was flowing and, naturally, tattoos became an imminent option. The immortal words, “I didn’t think I was that pissed, but clearly I am,” echoed from Clare’s lips. However, it was too late and the Tim Burgess mega fan club was born. One for one and one for all, or something like that.
Giddy from our new tattoos, we decided to bask in the sun’s warmth and enjoy a drink, or two, whilst we waited for the first act. Have you noticed our gorgeous sunflowers? There’s a story behind those! We had dreams of prancing around in beautiful floral crowns and luckily, we found beautiful floral crowns. However, age is a cruel, cruel thing and I swear, the rose pink floral crown I found, seemed to wither when placed on my head. When Hospice at Home were selling sunflowers for their charity, it seemed fated. Festival clobber secured, we awaited Public Enemy.
It tickles me how we sat on the grassy mount in pretty dresses and floral brooches, all prim and proper, waiting for …Public Enemy! Before they came on, we’d been dancing to Roots Manuva, Jay-Z and the Beastie Boys. Clearly, we were hip hop fans.
New converts to the church of hip hop, our group decided to split when Basement Jaxx came on. For me, I’m more excited about seeing bands that I’m currently listening to. I know, I know, Basement Jaxx have had countless hits but….
Theme Park! A band with twins! Twins! As if I need to say more. I absolutely adore their song ‘Two Hours’ and getting to see them live right in front of me, well I just don’t think Basement Jaxx could compete.
After seeing all the bands we could, we ended our night in the fabulous warmth of Tim Peaks for a nightcap of tea and coffee, with a dash of 70s disco hits. Rock and roll.
Part two to follow…