Sat 22 Aug |
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If we weren't drunk we were tipsily hungover and on the road to getting drunk. So how we managed to thread rope through a 10 metre flag, then balance in the baking sun on a ladder, to get the damn thing attached to a pole I'm not sure. At one point the needle and thread came out as ingeniously we decided we'd ward of the wind lifting our beloved flag up into the clouds by sewing it around the pole, smarter than you'd think. Three hours after sunrise and our first tinny, the flag was erected! And inspite of two being on a ladder at a time all our bones had stayed intact. Time to chill out and see the lovely festivalgoers enjoy signing and decorating our flag. Forty minutes passed by during which the flag whooped and soared impressivley in the air. Festivallers danced in it, kids ran around trying to catch it, giggling proudly at their mums and dads - it really was quite beautiful :-). Until our conscious got the better of as did the health and safety police and we concurred that wind and heavy fabric attached to poles stuck in mud could be a tad dangerous. The wind and weight of the flag pole-vaulting a scaffolding pole through the air would have been just to scary to contemplate and wouldn't even have looked that great through blurry drunken peeps, the flag came down. Turning into a communal area where people could sit, draw on the flag and decorate it further the versatility of what had once been a heap of scrap materials amazed us. Having to vacate to appreciate the rest of the arts and music of offer we tied the flag to a nearby tent and let it be. Moor fest had so much on offer. The line ups covered every musical taste possible. Our very own R L Royle treat audiences of the shed stage to a dark and chilling sneak preview from her new book. Kids and grown ups alike were loving all the crafts and workshops and everyone danced and sang into the small hours, including some very sleepy kids in parents backpacks, safe in the slumber of their ear defenders (cute). The setting was perfect and the sense of community soaked the air. The size of the festival is ideal you run into people you may never see again but that become friends to share memories with for 72 hours. Many will remember the huge hot air ballon that captured our gaze as it looked like it was about to land right next to the arena before it was chased down the moors by a herd of cows. (No we weren't on acid). The pilot quite evidently perturbed by these Linford Christie like cows soon fired back up and away out of their reach. The whole weekend was loved up, happy commune stylee and convinced us this could well be the way you were meant to live your day-to-day life. Plus the toilets were so much more worthy than any other hippy commune we’ve been to. Returning to collect the flag before we left we found it covered it signatures, drawings, comments, oh yeah and who ever that bra belonged to we still have it but are a bit attached to it. It was fantastic to be taking home a reminder of experiencing a festival that truly competes musically and is in spirit what festivals were meant to be about…So, sadly but with fondness from the realms of reality, we salute you moorfest and say bring on next year! See the pictures |