A Fire, A Wind Storm and A Helluva MessWednesday 15th – Monday 20th July 2009
Benicassim Festival, Benicassim, Spain
DAY 3: Friday: Who’s On First?
Our first night being relatively sensible we were up at a reasonable hour the next day. Our daytime ritual soon become set in stone: supermercado for food and booze – the latter which we were going through at an astonishing rate due to strapping it under our skirts in water bottles and sneaking it into the festival – then the beach for a sleep and a tan. Good friends were staying in various blocks nearby so our biggest decision to make each day was where to go and lie down. It’s a hard life. Once on the shuttle to the festival excitement began to peak as tonight offered up Kings of Leon and Paul Weller amongst others. Little did we know Mother Nature had other plans.
Entering was a breeze due to already having our wristbands and even the bar queues weren’t that long. The worrying sight was the tall flames licking at the fence bordering main stage as we made our way to Paul Weller. Everyone could see them and they were very close, so normally some heed of warning and mass evacuation would follow. However we were in Spain on holiday at a festival so our carefree attitude had somewhat overtaken and we all decided to ignore the impending doom and carry on watching. It was then the wind started it pick up, forcing an early set finish from Mr Weller and prompting organisers to take down the fabric screens that hung either side of the stage. Kings of Leon were up next so we began the mad mission to the front, ducking and weaving, eventually making it almost to the barrier. And it was there we stood in a cramped and swaying mass mob for the next hour and a half. At first there was nothing – no movement on stage, no information, no nothing. As time drew on and Kings of Leon’s start time came and went the crowd grew restless and began numerous chants, songs and booing. We then started to receive messages about technical difficulties which were endlessly repeated as Kings of Leon’s end of set time grew nearer and the next acts start time – Maximo Park – grew closer.
At last a timid voice announced over the PA that the next band would now be taking to the stage, however our definitions of ‘next’ seemed to differ. The last act the crowd had seen was Paul Weller, meaning the next act should have been Kings of Leon. The promoter’s definition of next turned out to be Australian act Tom Tom Club, the band due to play after Maximo Park. A barrage of booing and flying objects ensued followed by a mass exodus. Not only had we stood there for an hour and a half sans music, but the 2 acts we’d come to see were not presented. No explanation was given and the poor Tom Tom Club were led out like lambs to the slaughter.
It was as we wandered aimlessly through the restless crowd wondering what to do that the winds came. Thankfully the fire had been contained as what followed was nothing short of a tornado. Dust, sand and rubbish flew everywhere as the campsite was swept away and people scattered hurriedly to return to the safety of Oropresa. A general air of disbelief was present on the ride home with disappointed faces all around. There was nothing left to do but go home and make our own party. The remainder of the night is a blur of beer, sangria, dancing in our abode, walks to the beach, other house parties, stops at a few kids playgrounds - finally ending in the daylight hours with 6 girls, 6 headaches, a long lie in and one god damn messy apartment.
Our first night being relatively sensible we were up at a reasonable hour the next day. Our daytime ritual soon become set in stone: supermercado for food and booze – the latter which we were going through at an astonishing rate due to strapping it under our skirts in water bottles and sneaking it into the festival – then the beach for a sleep and a tan. Good friends were staying in various blocks nearby so our biggest decision to make each day was where to go and lie down. It’s a hard life. Once on the shuttle to the festival excitement began to peak as tonight offered up Kings of Leon and Paul Weller amongst others. Little did we know Mother Nature had other plans.
Entering was a breeze due to already having our wristbands and even the bar queues weren’t that long. The worrying sight was the tall flames licking at the fence bordering main stage as we made our way to Paul Weller. Everyone could see them and they were very close, so normally some heed of warning and mass evacuation would follow. However we were in Spain on holiday at a festival so our carefree attitude had somewhat overtaken and we all decided to ignore the impending doom and carry on watching. It was then the wind started it pick up, forcing an early set finish from Mr Weller and prompting organisers to take down the fabric screens that hung either side of the stage. Kings of Leon were up next so we began the mad mission to the front, ducking and weaving, eventually making it almost to the barrier. And it was there we stood in a cramped and swaying mass mob for the next hour and a half. At first there was nothing – no movement on stage, no information, no nothing. As time drew on and Kings of Leon’s start time came and went the crowd grew restless and began numerous chants, songs and booing. We then started to receive messages about technical difficulties which were endlessly repeated as Kings of Leon’s end of set time grew nearer and the next acts start time – Maximo Park – grew closer.
At last a timid voice announced over the PA that the next band would now be taking to the stage, however our definitions of ‘next’ seemed to differ. The last act the crowd had seen was Paul Weller, meaning the next act should have been Kings of Leon. The promoter’s definition of next turned out to be Australian act Tom Tom Club, the band due to play after Maximo Park. A barrage of booing and flying objects ensued followed by a mass exodus. Not only had we stood there for an hour and a half sans music, but the 2 acts we’d come to see were not presented. No explanation was given and the poor Tom Tom Club were led out like lambs to the slaughter.
It was as we wandered aimlessly through the restless crowd wondering what to do that the winds came. Thankfully the fire had been contained as what followed was nothing short of a tornado. Dust, sand and rubbish flew everywhere as the campsite was swept away and people scattered hurriedly to return to the safety of Oropresa. A general air of disbelief was present on the ride home with disappointed faces all around. There was nothing left to do but go home and make our own party. The remainder of the night is a blur of beer, sangria, dancing in our abode, walks to the beach, other house parties, stops at a few kids playgrounds - finally ending in the daylight hours with 6 girls, 6 headaches, a long lie in and one god damn messy apartment.
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