The V Festival That Was... [Festival Fever]

The V Festival That Was...

Posted on August 21, 2007 10:28 AM
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THE FIRST INSTALLMENT
By Katie Spain

My V-Fest cherry was well and truly bitten, stolen, crushed and devoured over the weekend. Somehow however, I've come out feeling like I missed something - the 'Big Bang' just wasn't there.

After a day and night's worth of thinking time, I've come up with the answer - I came out wanting more because I didn't camp. Simple as that.

Sure, the idea of a weekend sleeping in a humid tent with semi-human mates doesn't appeal to anyone. But each year, festival after smelly festival, people do it. Blimey, I was even given a VIP camping pass this year - (I stress the singular). Okay, so sharing a tent alone is better than sharing a tent with a sweaty stranger but where's the fun in THAT? I had mates there but they headed down to Chelmsford on Friday afternoon. They tanked up on vodka before they even pitched their makeshift home and were bosom buddies with the drug dealers in the tent next to theirs by midnight. (The friendship was short lived... dealing on the eve of a festival is apparently noisy business… throwing up half your stock at 4am isn't a quiet affair either.)

So, all things considered, I made the decision to trek there and back - four times in two days. At least I managed to shower.

The main reason for "Piking" (as the vodka consumers called it) was the equipment factor. I was there to work... and work I did. Capturing atmosphere is a tall order when you’re surrounded by hairy pits. It's important to note that I'm pint sized - protecting a tent and expensive video gear whilst single-handedly attempting to watch The Killers is a feat fit for a burly person.

Despite the obvious, fun was had - and lots of it. It was messy, it was sweaty and I came out smelling like beer (I didn't even touch the stuff) but that's half the fun.

The VIP hospitality section was over-rated. The loos soon rivalled any festival ‘porta-poo’ and the booze wasn't free. Okay, okay... that's your one and only flash in the diva pan. In all seriousness, the park benches and tables were a nice little respite but the real action happened in the main section. VIP means nothing at a festival - mud gets into all nooks and crannies, no matter how important you supposedly are.

Rain threatened to drench us on Saturday but by the time Just Jack hit the main V-Stage, the sun had belted it into the middle of next week. I've never been a huge fan but after a live brush with Jack, I've been persuaded. Don't you just love it when that happens? The crowd bounced, the first of the blow up beach balls were flicked skyward and a pair of wayward Frisbees thwacked their first victims. 'Glory Days' reminded us why this North Londoner is worthy of the opening slot. The bass line slaps our sleep deprived faces and whips us into festival mode. These are tunes you hear all over the city of London - on the radio, in High Street dressing rooms and on dance floors city-wide. You know what, they sound even better under the open sky.

By the time 'Starz In Their Eyes' hit our ears people were skanking in the non-existent aisles. I didn't know it at the time but Just Jack was to be my festival highlight. Sometimes the best acts don't come last.

Missed out? Tickets for the 2008 V Festival are up for grabs, Next year, you'll find me in the camping section.