No Direction Home

We're back from our first festival of the season, No Direction Home.

Held in the grounds of the grand Welbeck Abbey, in the heart of Sherwood Forest.

The weather was mostly freezing cold with the occasional torrential downpour.

Looking at the way the boys are wrapped up you'd be forgiven for thinking it was the depths of winter. Man, was it cold!

Under my trusty fake fur coat lies almost every item of clothing I packed, a mind blowing seven layers in all. 

At least Gilbert guaranteed us a warm & dry bed for the night.

In addition to the three stages offering an eclectic mix of folk, psychedelia and rock music, there were literature, story telling & comedy tents and a Post Office enabling you to send postcards to your festival  mates, hand-delivered by posties on bicycles.

 There was random art to discover...

a  Papier-mâché  menagerie,

Felt magpies in the oak trees,

Yarn bombing,

 and saucy tent silhouettes.

Classes in everything from circus skills and pottery to butchery, cheese and butter making and costume design.

A retro cinema showing everything from old school kids' films, black & white classics, art house to the downright curious,

On Sunday afternoon the sun made an unexpected appearance and the layers were abandoned.

After a few ciders we played with the singing pillars in the forest:

Once you've paid for your tickets all the classes, films, crafts and entertainment are free, you can even take your own food and beer into the festival. Not bad for £89. 

Only four weeks until the next one, I can't wait.
Off to catch up with all I've missed in Blogland before the footie kicks off.
C'mon England.