I went to Secret Garden Party last weekend (21st – 24th July) and had a pretty good time. Secret Garden Party is a fairly small but excellent music/art festival in Huntingdon, near Cambridge. The lineup included Blondie, Leftfield, I am Kloot, Guillemots, Alabama 3 and Joana and The Wolf.
I went on my own and didn’t end up lying naked, face down in a ditch (as predicted). Neither did I end up sitting alone in a big field, sobbing (although it was a near run thing).
The idea was to climb over the fence as the festival was sold out and I didn’t want to pay silly ebay prices. This idea quickly disappeared when I saw the height of the fence. Luckily, I was able to buy a ticket off of a girl I shared a cab with from the train station. She also advised me that security was very strict – they would be checking bags – and that glass bottles and spirits would not be allowed. This didn’t bode well for me, as I was carrying 2 bottles of Scotch and a massive hunting knife. Please note – I didn’t have the knife because I’m a mad knifeman or anything, but because Ray Mears and Crocodile Dundee reckon you need one to survive in the woods. Anyway – wisely I decided to drink as much of one bottle in the cab and stash it at the bottom of my bag – along with the knife – and hope for the best. The other bottle I decided to stuff down my pants. What I didn’t realise is that there would be a massive walk after the cab ride to actually get to the main doors. I do like a nice countryside amble but not with a heavy rucksack, half a bottle of Scotch inside me and another bottle of Scotch stuffed down my pants, aggravating my cock and balls.
As luck would have it, security let me straight through. Possibly because I was very drunk and appeared to have a huge erection.
I stayed up until dawn every day, going to bed at about 7am, and getting up again 2 hours later at 9am (this is normal behaviour for me at festivals). I saw lots of bands and DJs and did a lot of dancing. The highlights were Joana and The Wolf, Molotov Jukebox and Leftfield.
Some of the DJs were brilliant, although I can’t remember their names, and played some obscure Doors tracks, ska, hiphop, drum & base etc.
Attire was pretty much anything goes. Lots of masks, face paint and animal outfits, although lots of girls just wore bikinis (which I thoroughly approve of).
I’d heard rumours that Secret Garden Party is a total drugs binge, and I’m glad to say that these rumours were true. Across 2 days I had 12 Es, a bag of speed and quite a bit of ketamine. And I still managed to survive, unlike certain female singers I could mention who died on the same weekend…
There was lots to see and do there. I particularly liked the “healing area”. They grabbed a drunk man who was staggering past, so that they could help him. He was promptly sick, fell over and started pissing and shitting himself. God bless those healing hands…