The Other Summer of Baccara

 

A weekend outing to a local pop festival: We were there, hot, wet in the rain and as baffled as ever by the bizarre line up bingo we were taking part in. By that I mean I seldom seemed to see who I expected to see, program changes and happenstance simply conspire against the fragile plan. Neither did I expect to join in with a few thousand other mad folks in singing along to (a version of?)  70s euro pop divas, Baccara. They were received in truly heroic fashion by an eclectic mix of Scottish Ska devotees and as they might have said in the old days of music journalism, "the fans went wild". It's all true.

In the "luxury" toilets they actually had this stuff available for use, once a Twitter hit and now a real life trope and no doubt a shock to anybody indulging in substance abuse. That's all I really want to say about the toilets.

A Saturday morning hunt for coffee found me at the Churros van (the queue was the smallest). There was a lot going on; of course queue anxiety and shortage of coffee cup lids (I'm carrying them a long way back to the tent), some staff meltdowns inside and out of the van and the surreal experience of my part of the queue snaking across a Leslie Riddoch lecture in the marquee next door.

Our lovely tent: a reasonably sized base camp from which to explore the site. Of course we've all moved on from flashy tents and huge camper vans now. I does seem that the most desirable fashion accessory these days is a dog, preferably an exotic breed with a decent bark. It used to be hippie kids or unicycles but now it's dogs that rule as their owners struggle on. I suppose the other essentials are a gender confused friend, a talented acrobat who'll amuse bored audiences and somebody quite over weight who just dances to the point where they require an ambulance. A lot of festival attendance centres around people watching and spotting as much of the actual music is pretty dull to be honest.

My final study: an early morning tree set with a broken couch and various bits of old furniture and deck chairs. People just land there, have a drink and smoke, read a book and then move on. A metaphor for all of life itself. We'll probably be back for more of the same next year. Bollocks to Covid and the Tories etc. and who cares who is on the bill anyway.