As the weight of my rucksack settled on my hips and shoulder, a wave of anxiety started to build in my throat. Clipping the straps around my chest and stomach, I forced the panicked thoughts away and followed the crowd towards the entrance gates at Curraghmore Estate in Co Waterford. What’s the big deal?, I hear you say. You’re going to a music and arts festival, you should be happy and excited. A three-day, four-night music festival surrounded by nature and fellow live music fans. Isn’t this what you’ve always wanted?
Yes, but also no. Despite counting music as one of the grounding loves of my life, and having now made it to my 30s, I had up to this moment successfully avoided ever camping at a festival.
Why? Well, because I am the sort of person who retires to bed with an eye mask and ear plugs every night. I am a light sleeper and have a bladder the size of an acorn. I don’t love small talk and I get tired from being around people for too long. At parties, I burn bright and fast. I hate day two at weddings. Ahead of an unpredictable event like, say, camping, my anxious brain can run through every calamity and disaster that could possibly befall me.
But here I was, determined to give it a shot anyway, to ignore my fears and see what happened because the teeny part of my brain that still allows for rational thought told me to just go for it.
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I booked the tickets for the All Together Now (ATN) festival on a whim last October, convincing my boyfriend (also not a natural camper) to come with me. I enlisted my brother, a festival stalwart, and his girlfriend, to join us. I knew my brother would help with the decisions that were keeping me up at night; where was the best place to pitch the tent; how to get along with strangers; and how to keep going when all my energy was spent.
ATN takes place in west Waterford in the beautiful grounds of Curraghmore, and it is about a 35-minute drive from where I live. This was important because it helped me to know that I could get home if I really wanted or needed to. I brought with me a decent blackout sleep mask, wax ear plugs (Quies are the best) and a healthy dose of acceptance: it’s true you won’t get as much sleep as at home, but accepting that is half the battle. My brother warned me that my fellow campers wouldn’t be as quiet as I would like, but they were the people who would look out for your stuff when you’re not there and could become your festival buddies who you have a few cans with.
He was right, we met a lovely group of people who kept an eye on our stuff, helped us put up our marquee, and were generally very sound people to share a space with. As for other essentials, I needed something to help me relax, so I brought a book. It helped me to fall asleep and also to relax in the afternoon if I decided to recharge before the evening’s revelry. I know most people would consider this a waste of good rucksack space, but you do what you have to do to make yourself comfortable.
We were lucky that we arrived early on Thursday afternoon so we had our pick of spots to camp in. We decided to camp far away from the music and toilets. A plan that was good for sleeping, but not necessarily for the owners of small bladders. This brings me to my next vital purchase: get a camping toilet like The Big Whizzer – yes, that probably sounds gross, but it was neat and compact and I was able to clean it after every use. It made much more sense than pitching our tent near the toilets – the smell at certain times of the day in that general area was vile.
What was the festival itself like? It was brilliantly exhausting. What a joy it was to dance in fields, in tents and in wooded groves with strangers, old friends and new acquaintances. On the Friday night, my boyfriend and I decided to go with the flow and hop from stage to stage, just taking it all in. We rocked out with Post-Party at the Well and listened to the sultry, silky voice of Rachel Mae Hannon at the Hidden Sounds stage among the trees. This was probably my favourite stage all weekend. From there we danced to the funky sounds of Elyika at the Global Roots stage – these guys know how to get an audience dancing – and then back to Big Sleep in the Well. Jorja Smith killed it on the main stage.
I was gutted when Róisín Murphy announced that due to illness she could no longer perform as Saturday night’s headline act, but her last-minute replacement, King Kong Company, made up for it and more. Speaking of Irish acts, several incredibly talented Irish bands were a cornerstone of the festival for me. NewDad, Sprints, And he, the fool, The Mary Wallopers, to mention a few, were standouts. The political ideas in their songs, their stage craft, their energy, and the fact that a number of these acts have women fronting them, gives you hope for the future of Irish music.
Beyond the music, the Greencrafts village was a particular delight. Workshops and demos gave festivalgoers a chance to participate and create with some of the country’s most skilled craftspeople. Bet Murphy of Willow Wonder blew me away with her dancing woven willow rabbit.
Festivalgoers themselves were a source of magic. The clothes, the hats, the make-up and the uniquely designed totems to help identify themselves to their friends became part of the fun when we were walking through the campsite. Shout-out to the girl in the strawberry hat – you were like a fairy in the woods.
If I had any criticisms, it would be about the food: consider this a plea to organisers to encourage more plant-based food trucks at the festival. Thank you to the Crazy Vegetable who kept me fed for most of the weekend. Oh, and please bring Bulmers back. Rockshore cider is a sin against apples.
Overall, I fared reasonably well over the weekend. I did struggle at times with sleep and the crowds late at night were a lot to handle moving from stage to stage. Each morning after breakfast I walked back to my tent and read my book and napped for another 40 or so minutes, which helped a lot. The poor weather on Sunday made it harder to push on, but I kept thinking that Monday was around the corner and there were so many acts left to see. Did I see everything I had planned? No. Did it matter? No. Sometimes you can stand in sideways rain and sway to the music clutching a watery cider, and at other times returning to your tent is what you need to do to recharge your internal battery.
[ All Together Now 2024: The weekend in picturesOpens in new window ]
Now that it’s all written down, it sounds like an ocean full of worry over nothing, but if describing my experience encourages even one shy or anxious person to try camping at a festival, then writing this article will have been worth it. Go on, step outside of your comfort zone, and unravel the narrative you have held for years about yourself.
