Bestival is the sunny festival, the last gasp of joy at the end of the summer. It's where people cavort in the woods and roll around on the grass. And it's colourful! This year it was all brown - we couldn't get away from it. A big, soupy, stanky danky city of mud...and we were on a hill. Spare a thought for the dressing up tent who got wiped out by a 15ft wide angry mudslide. And we were in Jimmy and boy, I've never been more relieved to be holed up in there. Whilst others fought their ways through the profligate rain and squelch we felt cocooned and surrounded by a more desirable kind of brown.
The freezer remained largely unopened for the weekend but those hot choc machines worked their little butts off. Floating Islands, Jazz It Ups and Jamaican hot chocolates fairly flew off the shelf and it was all we could do to get that milk steamed and that chocolate melted to feed the need.
HIGHLIGHTS: Roni Size getting the slightly dejected crowd buzzing again on Sunday afternoon, the skiffle band in the Polka tent playing Ring of Fire to a delighted, chanting crowd, the outfits that the Choc Star team kept changing into, the chick pea curry at Vicente's stall (it tasted like real food!), John, my high-heeled wellies, Winehouse's gorgeous sailor boy back up singer belting out Killing Me Softly on Saturday night.