Greyrocks took an eight-day holiday from their not-really-a-holiday in order to join the sell-out crowd of 25,000 at the 50th anniversary celebration festival in Cropredy - North Oxfordshire.
Just before leaving Paleo we celebrated our wedding anniversary and spent time locating, checking and packing kit for the trip.
We had a late night flight to Gatwick on a beautifully sunny Sunday. We took the noon bus bearing a wheelie bag just under the hold limit with tent, airbed, pump, sleeping bag, waterproofs and two flags, whilst we had our own things in cabin bags. We were ripped off taking a taxi from Chania bus station to the Nea Hora beach, but otherwise had a jolly time with a beach afternoon, pleasant light meals and a bargain run to the airport. There we found no sign of the reported passport chaos, managed to secure a screw-top bottle of wine and lurked in a Finnish gate area for some peace and space. The flight was full but made up time and we were in the North Terminal Premier Inn by 2 am(local). It was not even too cold! Next day we took a long and slow train journey through countryside to Reading, changed platforms at the well-designed station, and then took a fast and flash train to Oxford, Things were looking promising! Oxford station has changed in thirty years, but we got out eventually and walked to a cheapish nearby hotel for our three night stay.
Within an hour we were out again for a stroll and it became clear this was going to be a wet stay! To be fair if we were to have three wet days during the week better in Oxford with a hotel than what was in prospect! It stayed dry whilst we enjoyed the first feature:- a photographic exhibition near the station celebrating Oxford's incomers from abroad. Then we went shopping, which we thought we understood, but we weren't taking account of the major upheaval to Queen Street and Westgate! Buses diverted and shops closed or moved! Primark, for example, used to be huge, but is a shadow of its former self, Millets which we needed for camping things gone, and so on! Then the rain began and barely stopped for the three days! So we enjoyed a couple of pubs, the covered market and then made it to Café Rouge for dinner. Next day we bought day tickets for the buses, sheltered from the downpour by going to see Dunkirk, at the cinema with six other punters then walked extensively wearing our waterproofs and ended up chez Wanda and Moz for a jolly supper with them and Mary. The forecast for the Wednesday was dire so we decided we needed wellington boots, nor had we yet bought the essential folding festival chairs, so we finally gave up on finding these in the city centre and took a bus to a shopping centre in Cowley. Soulless and depressing but it delivered all we wanted including a special offer on the chairs! It is said that a month's rain fell on that day in Oxford. We were drenched and so it was pub-hopping again before visiting Ruth's "cousin" Mary - about to turn 80 - and an expert on the city, then eating at a good Italian on George Street! Next morning at breakfast there was a group from Barcelona who were on their way to Cropredy!
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| The Backpackers' Field |
With a sell-out and those not attending the festival proper, but out in the village enjoying the "fringe" - particularly the free bands at the two pubs - it was not a village for the socialphobic! And so many dogs - probably the least pleasing aspect of the organisation!
This clip from ITV News is a overview.
The boat presence is a feature much loved by Ruth particularly and our Corralejo friends Pete and Val had told us they would be there from well ahead to secure mooring for Tadpole, so on Thursday afternoon we took ourselves to The Red Lion and they met us there, had a pint or two and then took us for a viewing of their beautiful summer home in its key spot! There is a photo lurking in the Facebook world and plenty of Fuerte friends have seen it! They also brought us up to speed with the programme at the two pubs and meant we could meet them again and enjoy two excellent bands:
Dylan Rhythm Band
Meanwhile - on the main stage this is what was on offer:
We watched - to some extent all of the bands on Thursday and the highlights were:
Trevor Horn Band, with big sounds and many numbers (such as both Frankie Goes to Hollywood hits) in which he had played a part!
and The Divine Comedy with a theatrical act that started with Napoleonic uniforms. We had seen them on Jools and are fond of some singles, but this was strong and pleasingly political! Bob heard a middle class voice say "Well it's too intellectual for me!"
On Friday we were mostly in the pubs with some good sunshine at times. At The Brasenose we found ourselves on the Dave Swarbrick memorial bench. We returned to the arena for the evening to see Richard Thompson. He gave his all with not only this magnificent set but supporting others across the festival. An under-rated genius of song-writing and guitar, and the programme related that B.B. King had once asked for his autograph!
And -demoted from headlining when it came to the night - Petula Clark:- there to commemorate 1967! Opinions differ about her current voice quality, but we enjoyed her set more than we had expected, she had a great band, a real presence and she is 84! Unfortunately she was not given the respect she deserves by the "youngsters" (under 50!) near us!
By Saturday the weather was looking a bit threatening, but we were in the arena for the start of the music and heard "Whispering" Bob Harris perform the opening and give anecdotes about the early days of Fairport! There then followed the very folkie bit - which Ruth had insisted upon seeing as it involved Morris dancers! (We had a brief encounter earlier on the village green with the famous Adderbury side - followed by her circa 1976!) At 1250 there was what apparently happens every year when there was mass white kerchief waving!
Then it was down to both pubs where there were huge numbers, but with our own chairs we were comfortable enough and the music was glorious! As the drizzle started we took a late lunch/early supper in the Red Lion restaurant, re-met the Barcelona group, said "Farewell - see you in the Blue Rock in the autumn!" to Pete and Val, and Ruth left her purse behind! Her rushed return from the tent to retrieve it (intact) accounted in part for us not seeing Marillion and only the end of Dougie MacLean, who did seem good!
The high spot of the whole festival has to be the three-hour set covering all 50 years of Fairport! Folk joined and left the stage and there were new faces and voices, such as Chris While, doing a lovely Sandy Denny stand-in. Watch this here!It all ended - of course - with "Meet on the Ledge" at midnight, lots of singing and hand-holding, and Greyrocks donating the chairs to some boat-people!
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| This could be the Last Time! |
On Sunday morning we packed away the damp and mud-caked tent, left the unused wellies for the Scouts who clear the site and set off for the bus stop from which there would only be two buses, We were hailed by a taxi driver and therefore did a deal involving also a single stranger and thus were at the railway station three hours before our designated train. We went through a farce to buy an Observer and walked to the centre of Banbury, asked some bikers about pubs and had a very pleasant morning in The Cherwell with English breakfast and later our last real ale. A warm hotel room with a duvet and a toilet has never been so welcome as the one we entered later that day on the top floor of the Premier Inn at Gatwick! In anticipation Bob had sneakily been to the airport M&S and bought a bottle of prosecco. Later we dropped off the bag and went for a meal at the hotel, An easy early morning flight took us back to Chania, where it was hot, dry and cheap!
A wonderful little break for a very special occasion but UK in August? No, Ta!
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