Reminiscent of a cheery village fete, this one - held on the field of Chipping Sodbury Rugby Club, it comprised a stage at one end, a huge marquee full of beer barrels at the other, and 1200 punters baking in the sun in the middle, having picnics.
Security consisted of a string of warning tape looped around the site, plus a couple of squiffy Rotarians, so what would have happened in the event of a full-scale invasion by marauding hordes of Chipping Sodbury lager-boys is anyone's guess.
Strange crowd for a beer festival too, there were lots of oddly shaped chaps with no beards... women! That's what they were! And those little people were children! A very good natured crowd, but when we went on after the obligatory covers duo, it soon became apparent that the occasional "polite ripple" was all the feedback we were likely to get. Stage invasions were limited to an unusually persistent bee and a number of footballs kicked by small boys.
"It's like this every year," confirmed the sound guys afterwards; "they only wake up during the last ten minutes of the last band in the evening, then they can't believe it's all finished..."
Nevertheless we enjoyed it immensely, due in no small part to the excellent sound - well done That Man for reaching the Holy Grail of sound engineering: making the fiddle sound like a fiddle, only louder, rather than the dreaded VileDin...
After our set came the Tug'o'War, where a team from the Rugby Club who clearly took it very seriously were soundly thrashed by a team calling themselves the 'Powder Puffs'. Twice. Which doesn't bode well for them next season...
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