So it was with trepidation that I was talked into attending my first "real" festival. I'd been to a one day affair in Ireland before, but at three and a half days, Electric Picnic is a whole different kettle of fish. And by kettle of fish, I mean plastic bottles filled with Bucky. Buckfast is a tonic wine, allegedly made by monks, with medicinal qualities. Or at least, it's syrupy sickly sweet wine that has a large amount of caffeine in it, making it one of the preferred festival drinks. And Electric Picnic is a festival that involves sleeping in a tent for three nights in a muddy field in County Laois, tromping around in the filth and using port-a-loos. Over 30,000 people attend, including every single Irish person I know. Reputation has it that Electric Picnic is the best Irish festival due to its near complete lack of scumbags and less mainstream bands.
Preparing for Electric Picnic was more than half the battle. I had to buy a tent and a sleeping bag and a camping chair and hot pink Wellington boots with little white paw prints on them. I thought I should have the most cheerful boots possible to try and offset the inevitable look on my face. A few days before I found a list on the printer at work that one of my co-workers had forgotten about and started worrying about the possibility that I had missed something. I queried my pal Aoife, who sent me the following checklist in response:
Toilet roll
Baby wipes
Booze
Tent
Chair
Suncream (being optimistic)
Clothes
Sunglasses
Pink wellies with dog prints
Plastic bottles (for bringing spirits)
Bin bag (for your dignity)
Post-its to stick on your own head saying "I'm a total dickhead"
Needless to say, I found the experience exhausting. And loads of fun. Sort of like living in Ireland.
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