Days after my return from Shambala and I am still finding decorative gems in unusual places, like the back of
my left calf. How these globules of colour got there, well that’s for me to know, but they certainly serve as
small reminders of the eclectic life that lay within the festival grounds…
It began with the usual tent
pitching and friendly chitchat to next-tent neighbours but the vibe was
different to other festivals I’ve been to. A blend of hippy, reggae, family-friendliness
was in the air. Lightly roaming the grounds I saw two toddler girls jovially
chasing each other in their knickers, lovers picnicking by the lake and the ‘Shambarber’ offering bleaching of the
backside. An usual mix but it all seemed quite magical.
In need of a decent cuppa I
slumped onto a chair in The Hurly Burly,
a large tee-pee with a raised counter of treats. The mug of tea turned out to
be more than decent and was accompanied by a wedge of really (and I mean really) good Victoria sponge cake. As I
shoved the last bite into my gob the seven servery girls sprang onto the train-track
backed platform and began to dance. Probably the most memorable tea-time
session I’ve ever had.
A wander and a half later and for
the night before the real entertainment begins I’m pleasantly surprised to be
bouncing along to feel-good group Ska’d
For Life in Chai Wallahs. This is
decidedly the best venue of the weekend in terms of atmosphere and music. The
team of ska-jazzers play a cover of ‘Don’t
Worry Be Happy’ to much delight and the gathered Shamballans are all smiles.
The easy-going mood has been set and as Friday rolls up we’re all ready for a
full day of fun.
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| The Mayflys |
I catch The Mayflys, who have won their stage spot here in Chai Wallahs. The
foursome’s tunes are ultra catchy (e.g. ‘Don’t Mind If I Don’t’) and the sweet
yet powerful voice belonging to lead singer Aurelie is captivating. Her French
accent oozes out to make their songs sound really unique. Halfway through a Daft Punk medley the sound cuts out and
our disappointment testifies how much we were enjoying them. Perhaps that’s
what happens when you run a festival on 100% waste, vegetable oil, wind, sun
and pedal power. But the 2011 ‘A Greener
Festival’ winners manage to get the show back on the road eventually and we
jig along to the rest of The Mayflys’ set.
I head to the Shambala stage
(main stage) to see The Boxettes, a
five-piece a capella girl group. Their rich harmonies and beatboxing are novel
at first but their songs lack excitement and after a couple of numbers I’m more
interested in lunch. I lounge on my picnic mat at the back of the crowd and am satiated
by a succulent ‘moo pie’ from the Bristol based Pieminister.
I fancy chilling out and Sankofa’s
seems a fitting tent for laid back entertainment. Village Well are on
the bill. The trio fuse folk-violin with Indian tabla to create a mishmash of
sound that doesn't quite work. The tabla player scowls at the feedback from the
speakers but the sound team don't manage to rectify it. Chirpy Iraqi violinist,
Zirak Hamad, gets us singing along though and the floating branches, perched
birds and stars above us keep us on board.
Saturday morning now
and I'm in front of a big red breakfast bus by the lake. Swarms of bees
are buzzing around the honey intended for toast. I take a perch with my hot
choccy on a nearby table and next thing I know the man across from me jumps up,
stung by one of the little buzzers. So does the hot chocolate - onto my lap...
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| The Wonderful Sound of the Cinema Organ |
I retreat to Chai Wallahs where 7-piece jazzy fizzlers
The Wonderful Sound Of The Cinema Organ are drawing in lots of
passers-by. Vocals similar to those of Maroon 5's Adam Levine, and their flips
from ska to reggae are stupefying. Clearly a group of seriously talented
musicians.
Later on I stroll past a mobile police rave
van on the way to see Bev Lee Harling, whose cover of 'Every Little
Thing She Does' caught my ear on Hype Machine. She stands tall and proud
behind her kitchen sink percussion, taking hold of an electric drill. This is
totally unnecessary in the piece she goes on to play and I'm disappointed
by her emphasis on the gimmicky side of the music. The typewriter she plays in
her next tune thankfully adds to the rhythm and her later mimicry of a guiro by
scraping a knife against a cheese grater comes off pretty well. More dulcet
ukele plucking next time please Bevsta!
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| Shambala's Saturday fancy dress parade |
A late
afternoon siesta sees me inside my tent. Minutes later, I am roused by the
crescendo of crowd that has crept up on me. I pop my head out like a suspicious
meerkat to see multi-coloured balloons, Day of the Dead samba players and
middle-aged women frolicking past in fluorescent lycra. All in the spirit of Shambala’s
‘Celebration’ themed fancy dress parade.
As Saturday
night begins to fall I’m jiving here, Dosey Doeing there and generally
guffawing like there’s no tomorrow. Urban Folk Quartet are the agents of
this full-throttled merriment with their multi-cultural approach to the folk genre.
I’ve never seen so many fancy dress fanatics in one tent, let alone that many linking
arms and spinning about.
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| In The Enchanted Woodland |
We approach
late evening and The Enchanted Woods are calling to me. I glide to the
lake and cross over a bridge into Shambala’s forest. Colours and shapes whizz
past the corners of my eyes. I spot a giant, pink jellyfish, a glowing peacock,
and metallic sculptures’ reflections in the surrounding water. The creative
masterpieces evoke an excited hubbub of voices from my fellow woodland pixies.
Time for a sit down, so I head to Sankofa’s where Chartwell
Dutiro is hypnotizing the gathered Shamballans with dreamy Shona music from
Zimbabwe. He looks like a chief and certainly has the command of our ears. My
eyelids flap up and down drowsily with the repetitious melodies of the mbira.
“I’m not going to give you words, just a melody,” he says as we join in with
the vocals. Gently lullabied, I drift back to my tent and into slumber.
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| Chartwell Dutiro, mbira in hand |
I awake, and
after half a waffle bathed in maple syrup it’s time for some spoken word. Shoes
off, I tiptoe into the Wondering Word teepee to contemplate “historian
witchdoctor” and octopus admirer Al Cummins. The sounds coming out of
his mouth muddle me. But his secular blessing stays with me; “May your
headphones not be tangled”.
Spring in my
step, I mosey towards the full-bodied sound of folk trio Lau, who are
playing the main stage. “We’ve chosen a good place to inhabit this weekend,
weather-wise” they exclaim as I attempt to cover my ivory shoulders from the
sun.
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| Wandering Word tent |
The gathered Shamballans huddle together to watch the first strike of a flaming arrow pierce the teepee’s casing. Fireworks spritz into the air above us and the flames blaze stronger, warming our skin. As this year’s whirl of creativity in the English countryside nears its end I fondly anticipate the bubbles, glitter and nipple tassels that will grace me with their presence next year.
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| View from The Meadow |
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Photography by Sophie Ellis
23rd-26th August 2012
Shambala
