Festival Frisby

Sunday had the making of a much more relaxed day. Frankly, it had a lot to prove if it was to come up to Saturday's standards, and it happened to be an almost impossible task in the end.

The audience throughout the day appeared more lethargic during performances. Beginning with the usual airing of the omnibus episode of The Archers, and the appearance of Roy Bailey and Tony Benn MP in the afternoon, reaffirming that the audience might not be given anything too taxing on the brain.

I could easily have fallen asleep through some of Tony's stories of the great depression and his ranting on about the fortunes and misfortunes of a Labour government through the ages. My father, when he found out that I had spent the afternoon listening to Tony Benn, in disgust, said he would send me a membership form for the Conservative Party immediately!

Fighting off my Sunday lethargy, I was glad that I managed to swamp across to see a cracking performance by The Arlenes in the Club tent. I needed this. Their dynamism was almost too much for me by this stage, but I was grateful for Stephanie Arlene's vocals, which drove directly in to me, and I felt I was on the receiving end of a kick up the ass that would bolt me directly into Monday morning.

I had to be given this push, because as far as my Cambridge was concerned, my Monday morning had arrived. I knew something special was going to take place on the Main Stage, which I could not miss. Priory of Brion came on and rocked us to the absolute limit.

Like zombies being woken from one thousand years entombed, the audience came alive and loved every minute of Robert Plant. He appeared like the Pied Piper of Rock, playing out some classic covers, sounding rather unaviodably like Led Zeppelin, culminating in a scintillating rendition of "Season of the Witch". I had seen enough… my Cambridge hit its peak, and I could take no more. We were entertained in style again.