WOMADALAIDE

Being the stingy, griping English tourists that we are, we ovoid the $320 festival ticket price and enjoy the festival for free, that is between Brads offerings and some sneaky fencepionage and infiltration. Ok not supporting the world music cause with money but definitely in presence, dancing like no ones watching, except they definitely were! A funny crowd at the Womadelaide, strangest festival crowd we’ve ever met, mostly middle aged, upper class, very conservative and reserved, there simply to appreciate the music, in their own way. Each to their own, but if you ask me I'm sure they could afford to loose a few inhibitions!

Easy to feel like the raucous English crowd at times, but I wouldn't want to change the way we have fun, and those with they’re heads properly screwed 'off' soon follow suite.  

Upon 'alternative' entry one day, I land from a high jump to find myself not inside the festival but inside a bloody ZOO! Now I know this may sound highly exciting and dangerous but before I let the truth fall second to fantastical fictions I must confess, I landed inside of the English part of the zoo! Bollocks! not cornered by kangaroos and snakes but surrounded by life stock and rabbits. Great, a Yorkshire-man in the middle of an Australian zoo in the middle of the English farm animal section, I reckon if I hung around any longer I may be mistaken for an exhibition myself!

The festival leaves a good impression, we see loads of amazing music, Staff Benda Bilili  play all three days, seeing the band pre festival made the experience so much more. The love and hope these guys emanate on and off stage is extraordinary, surreal considering the hardships they have and are facing as we read in the news of some of the issues facing the people of Kinshasa and the democratic republic of the Congo, though I guess love and hope is an important message as any.

Chic, who the hell is Chic? Well we found out first hand who Chic was, disco innovators and responsible for almost every disco number you've ever heard! Though you do get the impression the man behind it alls somewhat bitter about his back seat approach to creating hits. “Funny, I've had seven number ones in Australia and I've never been here!” Funky enough to keep us groovin for hours, sober as a judge, before we'd figured a ploy to smuggle our booze in as well as ourselves, half pints (or 'pots') are bad enough as a general serving never mind at inflated festival price! It doesn't take long to figure out a little import.

One night were walking through the food stalls when we spot a queue ten times longer than any other, bustling with eager punters. Intrigued we head to the front to see what everyone's queueing for, doughnuts! Everyone’s queueing for doughnuts, we like doughnuts as much as the next person but this is a little weird, we pass. The queue endures for the duration of the festival, one night Jaimie even encounters a girl scoffing one in the ladies toilets, another girl spotted her and a full blown discussion broke out, “Are those the Byron bay doughnuts, oh my god they are so amazing”. On the last night we give in to intrigue and decide to get a bite of the hysteria and . . . they're just doughnuts, hot, doughy, sugary and very lovely but doughnuts none the less, obviously these people have never been to Blackpool!

Tinariwen were also on the bill, a group of Saharan desert rockers. Enchanting music, we manage to meet the group after their gig. Again, Jaimie pulling out French phrases I had no idea she knew and myself cowering sheepishly behind her, trying in vein, mumbling something about French cuisine no doubt. They don't attempt any English but one look in the eye from these guys says a thousand words. On the way out I bump into the prolific dub producer Mad Professor who, amongst other chit chat, offers me some parenting advice, unnecessary but why not!