White On

Never renowned for being on time we, that is me and her, my bestest friend Louise, Lard to my Mark, Daphne to my Celeste, rock up to the Folk Festival on Thursday about 8.15pm. My very lovely house has one major advantage, it is within a 5 minute walk of the site of this most exciting festival. We step out of the front door into a moving line of festival goers, wearing red wristbands and big smiles. At the corner of Cherry Hinton Road, people start smiling. We had forgotten how much people like us at the Folk Festival, one of the few places in the world where wheelchair users are embraced as part of the whole. Perhaps because in a field where a town is created for only a weekend, the inhabitants can make their own rules. This year we are even more excited than usual as we have free media tickets (thanks Neil!). The excitement from this alone is almost enough to do us serious damage but we manage to maintain a vague sense of decorum until our wristbands are on. And what wristbands they are too, blue! With the word 'pass' on them. How cool were we? Frankly? Not cool at all. Still, our mothers love us.

And then we're off. Whooping with excitement we charge into the main area and skid to a halt at the sight of all the people. Of course - the extra Thursday evening concert is only on at the club tent and main stage 2. We make various purchases including a programme, the 'How to' guide of the weekend and make a beeline for the crip enclosure by Main Stage 2. Two things at this stage do need to be said. Firstly, I know its not called Main Stage 2 any more - Louise wasn't sure if it ever was - but the Radio 2 stage? I'm sorry, I do like folk music, I own 3 pairs of sandals and on a bad day I appear to have a beard but I still don't really see myself as a Radio 2 person. And secondly, I know its not really an enclosure, and frankly in my opinion the wheelchair access at the Cambridge Folk Festival is the best I've ever seen, but when you are in there, looking out through the mesh it can feel that way a little. Plus its just easier to say than 'wheelchair viewing area' which doesn't make much sense anyway, as you aren't there to view wheelchairs, but to hopefully look at the stage. An improvement to the enclosure at Main Stage 2 was that the area for wheelchair users was clearly marked on the ground, so an important person (as this enclosure is also for the important festival goer) doesn't get in front of you. Well done Cambridge, and well done Unison for giving them the cash to do this.

So onto the music, that, after all, being the point of the whole affair. We arrived half way through Ezio, who despite being a folk like Cambridge performer, and my having lived here nearly ten years, I'd not managed to see. Sadly, this wasn't to be much different, but tickets have been bought for their next gig. However, the bits we heard were absolutely fab and certainly the audience appeared to have danced off all their socks. Louise and I are fans of the sort of folk which makes us jump up and down (in addition, in fact, to all other sorts of folk) and this appeared to hit the spot remarkably well. So having made it into the enclosure we poured ourselves a large gin to which the word tonic had been whispered and settled down for Eddi Reader. Who was pretty darn good. She did a mellow set, along with Boo Hewardine and another top guitarist who's name eludes me, and even sang 'Patience of Angels', a favourite of mine and graciously allowed me to howl along with her. What an Angel, indeed.