Despite having had plenty of practice over the years, I still like to be well prepared before setting off for a festival. For a few days before departure, my map library – yes, I have a room so designated – serves as a loading bay and is filled up in readiness with all the necessaries. No last minute packing for me, and anyway, it heightens the anticipation. Yet I still worry that I’ve missed an essential. Here’s the list so far.
Airbed / inflater
Sleeping bag / pillows
Spongebag / Drugs inc inhalers and antihistamines
Table / Chairs / Gazebo / Windbreaks / Mallet
Celery Salt
Worcestershire Sauce
Tomato Juice
Peppermill
Stolichnaya
TICKET !!!!! never forgotten it yet, but I live in fear
Lyrics for singarounds
Kilts (three)
x Shirts, where x = y+3z ; y being the number of days ; z being the number of ceilidhs
Shreddies
Kecks – long and short
Wellies / dancing shoes / boots
Tumblers
Hipflasks (three)
Mug / teabags
Highland Park
Old Pulteney
Talisker
Laphraoig
Oban
Scapa
Jim Beam
Penderyn
Waterproofs
Flagpoles / flags
Help me out. Have I missed anything?
Is that your malt needs per festival or across the whole gamut? Good choices but I’d favour a speyside (the Macallan?) over the 2nd best orcadian mentioned. And ditch the Jim Beam.
Pillows? Airbed? What they?
Forgotten: packet of, um, moistened wipes for a sticky mouth. Or anything else they could come in handy for.
See you at Shrewsbury.
An accurate observation that reflects that, by and large, I don’t lean to Speysides. If I think on, I’ll bring Tomintoul to Shrewsbury.
The Jim Beam is there for the longer drink, mixed with coke. I once found my uncle putting ginger ale in one of my single malts. His head has only recently been removed from the town gates.
Caming kettle and gas stove?
I would replace the tea bags with coffee and a Bialetti, but the principle is the same. Oh, and wet wipes, neglect not the wet wipes.
Tent?
Three of us once drove to the south of France for a camping holiday, not realising that the main tent was safely tucked up in our friend Aladair’s house in Kilmarnock. We spent ten days sleeping head to foot in a two man tent, much to the mirth of the Germans in the neigbouring mega-tent.
Which festival are you heading for?
Set off for Sidmouth on Thursday next week. I get back with mere sleeping bag washing time before heading to Cropredy. Shrewsbury closes off August nicely.
The tent is not an omission. I have a long wheelbase Landrover and sleep in the back of that. Seeing as that is what everything else is being stowed in, I figure I don’t need to put it on the list. If I ever forget to take the Landrover, I am in big trouble.
Trampoline.
Never had you down as a Julian Cope fan, H.
Marmite?
Articulated lorry, by the look of your list.
Lentils, wallpaper….
Underpants and socks? I presume you go al fresco beneath a kilt but there are shorts on the list.
Think of the women & children – one gust of wind and they could be scarred for life.
Ah, sorry. The inclusion of ‘shreddies’ on the list did not refer to a breakfast cereal.
That’s a relief!
and I definitely do not go commando with the kilts. Just think of the plastic camping furniture.
Further, I have actually been assaulted by women – at folk festivals for crying out loud – for wearing a kilt, so I take no risks. I find a pair of cycling shorts underneath keeps everything out of mischief.
Worcestershire sauce? No wonder the acid is brown.
Spare bra, one size larger than usual in case of warm weather.
Will you please stop this!! I’m not made of stone!
Thanks for that Ruby. Not sure when it will come in useful, but I shall park that somewhere in mind just in case (while the Mooche tries not to).
I think you may be getting your birds-who-write-about-boobs mixed up. 😀
pLeAsE!!!
Ah, but you were looking, weren’t you?
are you going there to listen to music or get pissed out of your mind?
If it’s Cropredy, then maybe. However, my festivals have become much healthier affairs since I started singing and dancing. I need all my wits about me if I going to attempt all 18 verses of Lord Bateman. Similarly, I am told that a tall man in a kilt is considered quite a catch in the ceilidh tent – less so, a big bald bloke leering at you and trampling all over your feet while he strips the willow. So, I drink in moderation nowadays, so to enjoy them the more. The single malts are very much there for sipping not glugging – a perfect example of quality not quantity. They give two further advantages – not having to drink the poorly kept festival beers on offer and you have to go to the gents much less frequently, which is a blessing when you have pole position just in front of the stage.
But I do like a good bloody Mary.
When I were a lad all I ever took to outdoor musical capers were in order…
Myself.
My current girlfriend.
A ticket.
A large sleeping bag.
Weed, acid and speed.
A pressing need to get down and boogie.
Everything else is surplus to requirement.
Only one ticket? Did you hide your girlfriend up your jumper?
I’ve always been attracted to women who are sentient and to be trusted with complex tasks such as taking care of their own tickets. Anyway they could always bunk over the fence if their fluffy little brains were so full of thoughts of kittens and chocolate that they just plain forgot.
I see. I bet they took twelve pairs of shoes, though, including stilletos, and a hair drier, even though there is no electricity.
My girlfriends of yore were not the hair drying, stiletto wearing sort Tigg. More the skipping through the flower strewn meadows in a pair of Doc Martins type.
Just back from Chagstock (Night Out to follow), where our usually distinctive Devon flag was lost in a sea of similar. Fortunately we were the only ones also flying the black and red, so tent finding was a cinch.
Three things to add to the list: a bottle of that antibacterial gel stuff, your own supply of toilet paper, and more cash than you thought you needed
Just back from Folk by the Oak (Night Out to follow). One day, no camping, sleep in my own bed tonight. A much better way of doing things by my age.
Chuck some wet wipes in. They’re always useful.
Interesting. This is the most consistent advice, yet I’ve never found a need. As KidD rightly points out, a personal supply of bog roll is essential.