Feeling the heft of my backpack sinking into my hips and shoulder, a surge of apprehension began to rise within me. Fastening the buckles across my torso, I wrestled away the fear that threatened to consume me, blending with the throng making its way towards the Curraghmore Estate entrance gates in Co Waterford. You might wonder what the fuss is all about. After all, it’s a music and arts festival, a venue that should inspire joy and anticipation. A sprawling three-day, four-night event enveloped in nature, and teeming with fellow live music enthusiasts. Isn’t this what I’ve always wished for?
True, but it’s not that simple. Although music is a constant companion in my life and I’ve managed to hit my 30s, till this point I had artfully evaded the prospect of camping at such an event.
Why so? Because I’m the type who prefers an eye mask and ear plugs every evening for a peaceful sleep. I’m a light sleeper, can’t hold in a lot of liquid, dislike small talk, and get drained from prolonged social interactions. At social gatherings, I am like a flamboyant yet fleeting burst of energy. I loathe the second day of weddings. Any unpredictable situation, for instance camping, can send my worried mind spinning through endless scenarios of potential catastrophes and adversities.
Despite it all, there I was, steadfast in my determination to face my trepidations and discover what could possibly unfold if I chose to override that gnawing sense of fear. The diminishing rational side of my consciousness encouraged me to let loose, take a chance and just dive right in.
On a spontaneous surge of boldness last October, I scored tickets to the All Together Now (ATN) festival, managed to persuade my boyfriend (who also doesn’t quite have a camper’s spirit) to tag along. I also roped in my brother, a seasoned festival-goer, and his girlfriend, for the mission. My brother was to be a guiding force helping me make choices that would keep me awake at night; such as identifying the optimal spot for the tent, socialising gracefully with strangers, and keeping up my spirits when all reserves of energy had been exhausted.
The ATN festival is held at the scenic Curraghmore location in western Waterford, a convenient 35-minute commute from my home. The proximity of the location gave me the comfort of knowing that I could return home if required. A few essentials accompanied me during my festival journey, including a good quality sleep eyepatch, wax earplugs – with Quies being my top pick, and a crucial attitude of tolerance, understanding that I may not get a lot of sleep, but making peace with that thought was half the ordeal.
My elder brother gently cautioned me that my co-campers might not always maintain silence, yet he also mentioned that they would safeguard my belongings when I was absent, potentially becoming buddies with whom I could enjoy a few drinks. His words resonated truthfully as we made the acquaintance of a delightfully friendly group of people who dutifully watched over our belongings, assisted us in setting up our canopy, and overall proved to be remarkably considerate individuals to share our space with.
One essential item I packed was a book to unwind with, aiding my relaxation and lulling me to sleep. It also became my source of respite during the late afternoon should I wish to refill my energy for evening festivities. While some may deem it as unnecessary baggage, I believe in doing whatever needed to ensure personal comfort.
We were fortunate to reach the venue on Thursday afternoon, allowing us to select our preferred camping location. We decided to set up camp at a considerable distance from the music scene and the facilities, a decision favourable for sleep quality but possibly unideal for those with a need for frequent bathroom visits. This experience guided me to my next indispensable acquisition, a camping loo like The Big Whizzer. Though it may not sound appealing, it was tidy, small, and easy to clean after each use. It was far more practical than pitching our tent near the foul-smelling communal toilets.
The festival was exceptionally energetic, offering great amusement, as dancing with both known faces and strangers was possible across fields, under tents and amidst the woodland. My partner and I made spontaneous decisions on the Friday evening, hopping between different stages, absorbing the ambience. We enjoyed a thrilling performance from Post-Party at the ‘Well’ and relished the velvety tones of Rachel Mae Hannon at the Hidden Sounds stage surrounded by trees, which I found to be the most enjoyable throughout the weekend. We later grooved to the rhythmic beats of Elyika at the Global Roots stage before returning to Big Sleep at the Well. Jorja Smith gave an outstanding performance on the main stage.
I was extremely disappointed when Róisín Murphy, scheduled to headline Saturday night, cancelled due to health issues. Nonetheless, her surprise replacement, King Kong Company, exceeded our expectations. Irish bands were a key highlight of the festival, displaying the depth of talent present in Ireland; NewDad, Sprints, And he, the fool, The Mary Wallopers were among the standout performers. The significance of their lyrics, stage presence, exuberance, and the female leaders in several of these bands indicate a promising future for Irish music.
The Greencrafts village, alongside the music, also provided engaging experiences. Attendees could join workshops and demonstrations led by the nation’s leading craftspersons. I was personally enchanted by Bet Murphy’s alluring willow rabbit creation.
Fellow attendees added to the enchantment of the event with their unique clothing, headwear, makeup, and customised totems that they used to locate their friends in the crowd. A special mention to the girl in the strawberry hat; you were a whimsical presence in the woodland.
In case I have any qualms, it would primarily concern the cuisine. I would implore the hosts to advocate for an increased presence of vegan food stalls at the festival. My deepest gratitude goes to the Mad Veggie for keeping me nourished throughout the duration of the gathering. Additionally, I wouldn’t mind seeing Bulmers make a comeback; consuming Rockshore cider feels like a sacrilege to apples.
Surprisingly, I managed to cope fairly well during the course of the weekend. Although I faced difficulties with sleep occasionally and the massive crowd during the twilight hours made navigation from one stage to another quite challenging. I found solace each morning by retreating to my tent post breakfast, immersing myself in a good book and taking a brief respite of around 40 minutes. This routine was incredibly beneficial. Unfortunately, the disagreeable weather conditions on Sunday made persevering a tad bit difficult, yet I continually kept reminding myself that Monday was imminent with several performances yet to be witnessed. Was I successful in attending all of the shows I had lined up? Certainly not. Did it bother me? Absolutely not. There were instances when I found joy standing in the pouring rain, swaying to the beats of the music, cradling a diluted cider, whereas at other times, retreating to my tent for recuperation seemed the best option.
Upon reflection, it may seem like I’m fretting unduly. But if my candid recount encourages at least one hesitant or apprehensive individual to give festival camping a shot, then penning down this account would have served its purpose. So go ahead, step outside your comfort sphere and challenge the long-held perceptions about yourself.