Its Sunday morning and I am packing up the van ... Its raining, and the forecast is not good ... Do I put the Wellies in or not? In the end I decide against, but as a compromise put the umbrella in - Half right!
The trip up to Buntingford was only memorable for the spray and lack of speed on the M25, due to the water rather than an excess of traffic. However once at Buntingford finding the site proved a little more complex.. minor roads, many not much wider than the van and visibility down to less than 100m. Oh! and all the signs the organisers had thoughtfully put out were rain sodden and folded by the wind. Anyway we finally found the site at around 2:30pm and turned into the entrance. We followed the signs for the stage and headed down hill to the gate.
This was at the bottom of a hollow between two fields (one on each side of a little valley). Already the gate was akin to a wallow, and they were putting straw down to assist the walking; A quick chat to the stewards, and I decided that if it was bad this early it would be worse after the show, so spurning the offer of a tractor tow, we turned around and slowly slipped and spun our way back up the hill to about half way... it might have been better in hind sight to go all the way - further to carry the gear, but we would have got out easier.
By the time we were back at the gate my trainers were full of mud and it was working its way up my trousers - should have rolled them up as I got out of the van, another lesson ... Then it was onto the site, and a quick tour around before finding a cup of tea to warm up. It may have been the hottest April on record, but for this weekend we were back in single figure temperatures, and with everything soaked by the rain and buffeted by the wind it did not feel much above freezing.
We missed Jay and Rhayn arriving in BH2, but there was agricultural assistance employed, however not long after BH1 arrived, wheels spinning and plumes of mud out the back, Nic at the wheel with a big grin - enough of a run up and some serious tacking across the slope brought him right up to the main tent - getting around to the stage entrance did involve some manual intervention from yours truly! Bob, Hev and Gary too, were next to arrive bearing a new set of New Rocks for Liz (miss Whiplash eat your heart out). Not long after Stan and Andy tentatively edged up the hill.
The full compliment now in-situ, the waiting begins, made difficult by the rain as we would usually peruse the concession stalls, check out the site and bands, sit in the sun and generally chill. Unfortunately the only money changing hands was with the hot drinks seller. Steph though was smiling all over as she got to wear Liz's (now) spare New Rocks!!
Due to the amount of space back stage, it was only possible to get one set of kit unloaded, and one on stage at once, so as soon as Chris Jagger was set up on stage we started unloading and getting things ready for the stage, including building the drum rack - proved interesting in the corridor behind the stage. We timed it just right to get unloaded in a lull between storms, however once we were inside the heavens opened and torrential rain fell.
We all huddled together to keep warm, apart from the nicotine addicts that were under a brolly outside . Towards the end of Chris's set, we started to notice the condensation that would all of a sudden rain down on the stage and all things around about... this was caused by the squally wind rattling the sides and roof of the marquee. So a big rush to cover the instruments to try and save them from the worst of the showers. the wind was also playing havoc with the Kilts, a brave face was show by all and when the bell went we were all hands to the pump.
. Careful when you are outside the stage door... you never know who is watching!
The equipment changeover was frantic, but we were soon ready to go, just the line checks to go through. Then we ran into sound problems ... the water must have affected some of the mics and leads... The Kick drum mic was not capable of raising a fart never mind getting it into the monitors. this is not so bad out front, as Nic is capable of compensating and raising the level, however it does mean that the monitors are not passing the time signature back to the band. the other issue was with Jays guitar feed, which sounded like he was playing in a tin can, or that his cab was akin to a radiogram (crackles and scratches not withstanding). After 20 frustrating minutes the sound engineers on stage had done the best they could in the circumstances and the band had to play through it.
Cabbage train gave the front of house sound man (hiding under an umbrella at his desk) an opportunity to sort his levels out and by the time we were through
Witch in Wedlock things had settled down. Next up
Billy Boy got the mosh pit heaving.
Gravel Walk caught a few of the bar flys out at the start of the third movement, and the pace continued through
Blackleg Miner before slowing down for the first movement of Ostara.
Barbara Allen and
Bigger gun brought it back up to "frenetic" before the sing-a-long
Sitting Pretty.
Haslam's Bits and
Vivaldi then brought the main performance to an end. It did not take much persuading for the crowd to convince the organisers to go for an encore, and the band came back for the traditional
Twmbarlwm.As the last notes died down the mad panic of the change over happened all over again. This time the rack had to come down followed by all the back line, at the same time the crew for the Nimmo brothers were trying to get their kit on stage - complete mayhem, but it worked. Once we had all the gear off the stage we then had to pack it all away, before edging the van as close to the tent flap as possible and loading quickly through the rain.
After we were all packed up we gratefully accepted the offer of a tractor to escort us to the gate, which was just as well, as by now the dip by the gate was a hippo's paradise. I'm sure that when it dries out all manner of debris will be found at the bottom! With a knowing smile Steph and I went back to the van on the other side (also follows by Gay, Hev and Bob, who had done the same as us). However after slipping and sliding towards the gate there came a point where the mud was too deep and there was no grass left for any grip. At this point it was eat humble pie and wait for a tow. Gary however had other ideas and after moving a section of fencing slightly to get some grip succeeded in escaping via a manoeuvre that would not have been amiss on "Dukes of Hazzard" or "the Great Escape " - pun not intended - but he almost had all 4 wheels of his car in the air at once. this got him around the mud puddle and away.
It was not long before rescue was on hand and we were soon at the gate.. Quick farewells in the rain beside the road and we were off home. The next day however brought the realisation of the mud home ... our trousers were covered to the knees and the shoes were unrecognisable. The washing machine has still to recover!
Well done all the organisers for coping in the adverse conditions!
to the people of Mayfest....
The full compliment now in-situ, the waiting begins, made difficult by the rain as we would usually peruse the concession stalls, check out the site and bands, sit in the sun and generally chill. Unfortunately the only money changing hands was with the hot drinks seller. Steph though was smiling all over as she got to wear Liz's (now) spare New Rocks!!
Cabbage train gave the front of house sound man (hiding under an umbrella at his desk) an opportunity to sort his levels out and by the time we were through Witch in Wedlock things had settled down. Next up Billy Boy got the mosh pit heaving.
