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Pemberton Festival
By ruth | August 6, 2008
This year was the inaugural Pemberton Festival, and since I’d never been to a music festival, and Pemberton is pretty, we booked tickets.
You could check in early at the Hyatt in Vancouver, so Dave did, but he couldn’t check in for me wihout my being there -but they gave him my camping wristband anyway, strangely. He picked me up from work at 4, and despite what you may have read in the papers, the roads were perfectly clear all the way up. We stopped at Whistler to check me in -and discovered that we’d lost my camping wristband.
At this point Dave got quite panicky, but we went and asked nicely - and were stonewalled. Apparently the campsite was sold out, they couldn’t risk overcrowding, and they couldn’t take the security risk of not knowing exactly who and how many people were in the campground. Later events proved this to be utterly ridiculous, but at the time they appeared fairly reasonable. So, trying not to hyperventilate, we went back to the car to tripe- and quadruple-search for the wristband - and found it. It had slipped down the side of the passenger seat. Phew.
On we drove to Pemberton, marvelling at the empty roads and the smoothness of the journey. We arrived at the airport parking area at 7:45pm, and were directed into a queue of cars. We had no idea what we were queuing for. Hours later we reached a point where we were directed to park. We then joined a long disorderly line of people with all their camping stuff waiting to go through security. After a long wait the line started moving - apparently security had given up and we went straight through, to join a disorderly throng waiting for shuttle buses. The buses did not turn up, and when the odd one did it was mobbed by thousands (I am not over-stating) of people.
Many hours later, after deciding to camp at the airport (where there was no running water) to avoid violence, then changing our minds because more buses were coming, and being told that buses would run all night, then being told that the next bus would be the last one, and fighting tooth and nail to get on it, and making some friends in the process (strange as that may sound), we finally arrived at the festival campground at 2am. Six and a quarter hours of queuing, and we felt like refugees from some natural disaster.
They’d marked out neat little 10′ by 10′ camping areas at the campsite, and you were supposed to check in and be told which was yours. By the time we arrived they’d given up, there was no one giving directions, and everyone just pitched their tents wherever they found a space. Our new friends gave us some of their booze they hadn’t had to smuggle in, to help calm us all down; we pitched our tents surprisingly well given the circumstances; and we went to bed at about 3:30am.
We were awake again by 8am, when the neighbours started playing music -as was their right, since the noise curfew was 3am to 8am. The view from the campsite was stupendous, and (except as the topic of much aggrieved conversation for the next few days) the tribulations of the previous night were all but forgotten. We went in search of breakfast and coffee, and found the ‘General Store’ tent, which sold all manner of snacks and convenience foods, including bread, bacon and ketchup; but no coffee worthy of the name. Dave made bacon butties, which we offered to our new friends, but only Shane took us up on them. They were very tasty. Bellies full of piggy goodness, we headed for the festival site in search of decent coffee.
No one checked our wristbands on the way in to the festival.
I am writing this nearly two weeks later, so my memory is a little vague. I know that the day was very hot, and Dave wanted iced tea. The nice lady at the coffee stand didn’t sell iced tea, but she sold tea, and she sold ice, so it all turned out well.
We wandered back to the tent via some of the stalls, found our new friends and went in search of beer. The beer tent opened at lunchtime so we queued up; we needed another wristband showing that we were legal drinking age. Stupidly, I hadn’t brought ID - I thought it would be quite obvious that I was over 19. But rules are rules, and I was denied my red wristband - until the nice lady decided to be even nicer, and asked me quick-fire what year I was born, and believed me. The guy who clipped on my wristband afterwards empathized, saying ‘This country has such a backwards attitude to alcohol…” I think I was very lucky, because the following day when it was much busier, they were insisting on two forms of picture ID, even from men with white beards.
So, we drank beer - $7 for a 330 ml can of Molson Canadian or Coors Light poured into a plastic cup, which is pretty shocking from several perspectives - and waited for the music to begin. It soon did. I have only vague memories from that first day. Metric seemed pretty good; we paid vague attention to them. We ate fast food and we drank more beer, and at some point after visiting the Bacardi dance tent we lost the others.
It had been dry and sunny in BC for weeks and weeks, and the festival site soon turned into a dust bowl. Asthmatics had real problems; there was no point washing anything, because dust covered it within minutes of getting it clean; people were wandering around with bandannas covering their faces; and I saw kids wearing industrial dust masks.
Musical highlight of the Friday was Interpol; we left the beer area and set up our picnic blanket nearer the stage and big screens for them. We’d wondered if they’d be any good live. They really were. And there was a corker of a sunset while they were on, which I enjoyed.
Because I’m very nice, I stuck around for at least half of Nine Inch Nails - I am definitely not a fan. I can see that they’re very good at what they do, but I don’t see the appeal. We spent some time being soothed by the ‘light art’ Cubatron before going back to the tent. Nobody checked our wristbands…
Thank goodness for ear plugs; we were woken by the sun beating on the tent rather than the noisy neighbouring campers.
Saturday wasn’t as sunny but was just as hot, despite some fun rain showers that sent people running for cover, leaving their litter behind. We set up camp with the others next to the fence in the beer garden; Shane and Ian managed to smuggle in five camping chairs and we had our blanket. We got very settled in and relaxed while various bands I hadn’t heard of played forgettable music. The Canadians were very excited about the Tragically Hip, who are huge here but not anywhere else. We didn’t think that much of them.
I was most excited about the Flaming Lips - I anticipated a spectacle, so we went right up to the area next to the stage - not the front of the front, but still the front. If you see what I mean. First thing we saw was a bunch of people dressed up as Teletubbies. I could only really see them on the big screen, because I’m short, but tall Dave took photos. There was a drummer wearing a Cymru shirt, and a guitarist in a skeleton costume. Then the lead singer (I can’t be bothered to look up his name) appeared inside a giant plastic hamster ball, and zorb-surfed the crowd. Spectacle, as expected.
Next, plumes of red and yellow confetti shot into the sky and floated down past the fluffy clouds and craggy mountains, and big while balloons started floating around, and streamers appeared, and it was a party.
The music is not to everyone’s taste, and lots of people were just holding out for Tom Petty; and the show was msot definitely more about show than music; but it was lots of fun, and I enjoyed singing along to ‘Yoshimi Battles the Pink Robot’.
We left to get some beer at the end, and found ourselves moving very much against the tide; despite the 45 minute wait, people were streaming forwards to find a place to watch Tom Petty. I had no idea he was so popular. We said hi to the others and had a beer, then went back to the front. I hadn’t intended to go to the proper by-the-stage bit, because I hate crowds, but there seemed to be lots of space, so we did. We hung back though, near the exit, and once the crazy woman who’d brough a small child in a stroller into the crowd saw sense and left, it was all relatively civilised.
Tom Petty fans - who knew there were so many? And so very fanatic? They knew all the words to every song! Personally I’d been a bit lukewarm about seeing him, but I’m glad we did. He’s an authentic rock god. Charisma and presence and talent and lots of rock. And the crowd was completely pumped.
We stayed to the end, and then headed back to the tent to socialise with the others until the small hours.
We woke to rainfall. I got up to go to the loo and saw a scene of dishevelled wetness. Hmm, glad we put everything under cover before going to bed…
There was only really one band we wanted to see on Sunday - Vampire Weekend. The headliners were Jay-Z, which would have been mildly entertaining, and Coldplay, who are dreary, so we decided to cut our losses and leave early, to avoid another shuttle debacle, beat the traffic, and get home for an early night.
We still had to wait 30 minutes for a shuttle, despite leaving at 10am, but apart from that it all went smoothly. We were home and very glad to have a decent shower by mid afternoon.
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