Last year was the first time in my life (I will be eight next week) I have ever missed the Big Chill, we did go to Shambala where Sapphi (now 4 years old) was traumatised by giant ants on fancy dress day, I was physically sick and Daddy managed to get lost in the children’s area. It was really good there but we were very happy when mum and dad told us we would be returning to The Big Chill again – and I think it is better, in the interests of daddy’s sanity, that we keep the amount of change in his life to a minimum. He can only cope with so much at his age.

Thursday

We camped in the Green field, the journey to which involved a lot of mud as it had been raining almost constantly in the weeks leading up to the festival. Sensibly we all wore wellington boots except for Daddy who wore sandals which, though designed for maximum comfort and efficiency by comfortable and efficient German hippies, completely lacked any facility whatsoever to repel mud. To be fair on the comfortable and efficient German hippies, mud repellence is probably not one of the first functional attributes you would consider when designing a sandal.

When our tent was up and Sapphi and I had spent 45 minutes or so jumping up and down screaming with excitement about it, we walked down to the main site, only to be greeted by a procession of 4,000 people impersonating Michael Jackson in his thriller video. I suppose it is one way to celebrate his contribution to music, but as tributes to recently deceased pop stars go, dressing up as a dis-entombed corpse is in questionable taste. They were led by the man from Mighty Boosh driving a jeep with a skull on it and a lot of them retained remnants of blood stained make up for the next three days, causing some disruption to the psychedelically enhanced.
Following the experience with people dressed as giant ants at Shambala last year, I was a bit worried Sapphi would react badly, but she was more concerned to understand where zombies live “in real life” – Los Angeles, obviously. We had churros, chocolate and listened to British Sea Power on the way back. Churros are called Farturros in Portugal, this one of the funniest facts I know. Daddy dreamt about gum boots (no one knows why he calls them that).

Friday

Walked round the site in the midday sun, a bit like on holiday when Daddy made us walk round Lisbon at noon “because we are English”. We stopped at a new food stall called Indian Summer where we had incredible south Indian fast food – bhel puri, masala dhosa, mango lassi – I really liked it, especially the lassie which despite the name didn’t taste of dog at all (luckily). Sapphi got the annual bubble gun at Sam’s Bubble Incorporated shop and we found a new children’s area with a Victorian funfair theme. It has lots of “wides” (as Sapphi calls them) and Victorian traditions such as getting people to pay for being scared witless or look at themselves in mirrors that distort their appearance.(in some cases for the better it has to be said). Thankfully some of the other Victorian traditions, child poverty, scabies, hysterical and misguided morality were not included.

It was great! We went on something called the Mushroom Wheel, not a TV game show for psilocybin fans (your chance to win the trip of a lifetime) but a wimp’s version of the big wheel – they had a big wheel too but it was much too big for me and Sapphi to go on, and for mummy and daddy too apparently.

Then we went up to the relocated Kids Zone, unfortunately it is not quite as big and not next to the Castle Stage any more so your parents can’t lie in the sun and watch music while they pretend to look after you. Also the rocking horses have gone (which presumably makes their excrement an even rarer commodity in Herefordshire this year). But there is still Club Mum (Sapphi did some pretend catering there) and best of all John Hegley has reformed the Popticians, whose legendary sets at Glastonbury in the early eighties are still referred to in hushed, reverential terms by music fans of a certain age.

I got my face painted, and asked for a dolphin – the lady had never done a dolphin before and I did get a bit worried at one point when the amount of blue being applied started to make me resemble a delinquent Ancient Briton whose head had been dipped in wode, but luckily it turned out really well.
Sapphi spent a lot of time shooting bubbles in obtuse directions, when challenged she claimed to be “cleaning the mud and killing wasps” but most of the bubbles seemed to travel directly into the mouth of a man trying to eat falafels. We can only pray that this is not an early manifestation of nascent anti Semitism.

Over to the big tent to see the Popticians who turned in one of the best sets of the festival. Their songs are almost exclusively about glasses and they did all the hits – Spare Pair, the awful experience of nearly losing your glasses, followed by the redemptive pleasure of discovering you have another set of spectacles and of course Living in a Mobile Home (which doesn’t actually involve glasses at all, although they are implicit). There was a lot of singing along involved and John Hegley did a few poems too. Daddy thought that some of these revealed deep seated hostility issues which may require clinical treatment at some point, notably those concerning his brother in law and people who wear contact lenses (daddy went particularly quiet during that one). We loved it, despite mummy’s heckling, and so did all the other children, but I think the parents may have been enjoying it even more, the crowds flowed out of the tent and across the field.

In the evening we saw Calexico, a sort of Tex Mex rock band from Arizona on the main stage, everyone cheered when they segued into Guns of Brixton and dad got a bit emotional when they played Alone Again Or (by Love) just as the full moon started to rise over the trees. I took advantage of his mood to get a sort of sawn-off tutu suit from the fabulous fairy shop – it wouldn’t be The Big Chill if we didn’t get something from there and Bubbles Inc. On the way back Mummy had an amazing Goan fish curry from the Goan fish curry stall (no confusion about their speciality), Daddy had Sambhar from Indian Summer and we hade more churros and chocolate (which helped ensure we met the government target of doing five unhealthy but fun things a day, I think we may even have exceeded it in fact).

Saturday

Woke up to find the toilets were full and so we all had showers – some girls were wearing underpants in the showers which seems counter productive and is something that “would never have happened at Stonehenge” according to dad (he really does need to get over the nineteen seventies) – the not taking off your pants bit not the toilets, they are palaces compared to Stonehenge in 1976.

We explained carefully to Sapphi why she couldn’t go into the boy’s showers – because I will laugh! she interjected with characteristically impeccable comic timing.

Dad had Bhel puri for breakfast (just like in Bombay but without the crowds) while Kathryn Williams played some really nice morning music. More lovely sunshine and no gum boots required today as the site dries up, this made dad very happy, in fact he is going round with his shirt off grinning like a Moonie on ecstasy.

There were some people walking round with a sign advertising free hugs, which was pretty irresponsible – have they not heard about swine flue? Then we saw a man in a dress carrying a massive flag pole with two flags, one showed Che Guevara and the other was an acid house smiley, illustrating the dichotomy of revolutionary thought – armed struggle or dance, which will bring capitalism down quicker, turns out to be neither of course. In the end the pointless greed and selfishness at its heart will cause it to consume itself, that’s what they told us at school anyway.

I wore my sawn-off tutu and Sapphi wore her flamenco outfit and we headed to the children’s zone, I got my face painted again and then we watched Pinocchio. It was performed by one man using a range of household utensils (scamp theatre). This stretched the boundaries of reality for me but Sapphi found talking cloths pegs completely normal and loved every minute.

We went down to the main stage and saw the Hypnotic Brass Ensemble, they were more hyperactive than hypnotic and daddy was worn out just watching them so we carried on across the site, past the giant silver zombie statue and a man busking called Lewis Floyd Henry he is a one man Jimi Hendrix Experience, and was playing the star spangled banner to quite a big crowd. We had to go over to the Rizla Arena because they played an old record (this happens nearly every time we go past) – it was called Push it, then they played Kiss by Prince so we had to stay even longer. There was a large group of men dressed as bumble bees dancing in a line on one of the podiums. It must have been some sort of protest about their imminent extinction I think. I love bees as long as they don’t come anywhere near me.

We finally got to the Victorian fun fair and I went on a mad whirling chair roundabout with mummy while Sapphi hit the mushroom wheel again. We walked slowly back and had some of the delicious French pancakes, Music from the Penguin Café Orchestra were on, although their appearance was notable for a complete absence of penguins. Sapphi did her spinning ballet dance to the track that starts with a ringing telephone. The music was beautiful.

Sam Sam the bubble man had a foam party in an inflatable swimming pool to celebrate twenty years in the bubble business, children went in first and then the adults, he stood in the middle directing events, wearing a suit. Whilst I can’t help thinking he may be alone in spending 20 years meddling with soap related novelty products, I do believe the country needs more people like Sam.

We watched Lamb on the main stage as the sun set, notable for the complete absence of sheep. The music sounded nice, especially the girl singing but the bass was very loud and distorted – a friend described it as oppressive even. Just like a right wing totalitarian dictatorship or Portishead (of course Lamb do not deserve to be linked with totalitarian oppression in any way, unlike the brain dead bureaucrats who are trying to kill the green gathering, presumably because they don’t like the colour).

Then came Spiritualised who played sort of psychedelic grunge gospel, they were really good but the singer had forgotten to take off his sunglasses. Justin Robertson came on next and turned in one of the best DJ sets of the festival inspiring a lot of wild techno dancing, not always a pretty sight but good fun. Quite a few people had balloons without strings – that can’t be much fun, but they seemed happy enough.

We saw a giant eyeball running through the crowd and then met up with the woman in full bridal dress Sapphi had seen staring at earlier. Her name is Jo Jo and she has been wearing the wedding gown to festivals for the last 6 years but still isn’t married. It is possible that her habit of wearing the dress on the first date is being misconstrued by prospective suitors.

Back to the tent while Orbital played (they look like miners lost in the fog). All round the camp site we keep hearing hissing noises; I suppose people are having problems with their air mattresses, the giggling shows they are taking it all in good spirit though.

Sunday

I got some rainbow eyelashes at fairylove.com shop and then went down to listen to Norman Jay. Taking advantage of the feel good mood and general loss of self consciousness induced by mass “mum and dad dancing” to Norman, they launched the biggest karaoke sing along ever – it was brilliant! “Love is in the air” for Ibiza veterans and “Brown Eyed Girl” for seventies veterans.

We saw a pirate of the Caribbean having a sword fight with a Roman gladiator, neither of them had American accents so they can’t have been real.

One last tour of the Victorian fun fair to go on the carousel and the hook a duck stall. I won a cuddly toy (we really need more of those, there are hardly any in our bedroom at home), and Sapphi won a frankly bizarre collection of pink plastic items – mobile phone, Barbie mirror, locket, hair clippers, cut-throat razor. I suppose this is an attempt to avoid gender stereotyping but

Sapphi just repeatedly slashed daddy with the razor while shouting “I am too busy to talk now” into the mobile phone, which doesn’t seem like the best way to build a more tolerant, egalitarean society if I am honest.

I met the pirate and got a picture with his boat. I had to make a donation – the money goes into a “magic” box on the boat where it magically “disappears”. Where is Jerry Sadowicz when we need him, daddy asked.

Tom Middleton was playing classics in the dance tent at least that is what he kept saying he was doing, which caused more embarrassing dancing by my parents. Thankfully we moved after a while to have fish and chips by the lake under the disturbing gaze of the giant silver zombie, whose head had turned round since Saturday.

A small riot started when a man with a loud hailer wearing a world war two German helmet announced “free lollies, get your free lollies here” as he was walking past an ice cream van, in the hilarity that ensued even the hardest working Jimi Hendrix impersonator at the festival, Lewis Floyd Henry, had to stop playing for a few minutes to laugh.

In the evening mummy and daddy had dhosas at Indian Summer (is it possible to actually “stalk” a restaurant? If it is I think they might be doing it) and then we walked up to the enchanted garden. This is like the festival was when we first came here, full of hidden surprises and art in the trees. We sat on some hammocks and swung them backwards and forwards as fast as possible to make sure we entered into the chilled spirit a bit more. I bounced a gigantic balloon up and down and we heard some lovely music on a little stage by Animat. There were coloured pyramids with people lying in them surrounded by newspapers (if that is where reading the Observer gets you – unconscious in a fake pyramid – what happens if your read the Daily Mail?). There was a tree full of disco balls and projectors beaming mutating pictures onto discs and trees, Sapphi, standing directly in front of a projector, said “what pictures?”

We walked back down and saw the fireworks as the giant zombie went up in flames, then we went to see David Byrne who was superb. He played Life During Wartime, almost all of Remain In Light and a really exciting song about someone who stole all his cigarettes. There was a ballet troupe dancing with him and he wore a tutu at one point, not that there is anything unusual in that – about 65% of the people at the Big Chill have worn a tutu at some point.
A complete Balkan brass band played in perfect unison whilst running full pelt through the crowd. Mummy and daddy managed to get us back to the tent without buying us any Churros, quite a feat even when we are half asleep.

Monday

The festival started in rain on Thursday and ended in rain on Monday morning, with perfect sunshine in between. How do they arrange that exactly, is it something to do with burning wicker zombies?

I said to daddy “I don’t want to go back to the real world; I want to stay in tent world. You can do whatever you like here and wear what you want”. Then a siren wailed in the distance across the site “is it a fire engine?” “No” said Sapphi “it’s a ambience”

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