Why Peats Ridge Festival was my Skank Nirvana

I may still be picking the dirt out of my toenails but, check it out, I got to go to the spectacular spectacle of all things arty farty, musical, zen and environmentally sustainable - yet, in a refreshingly skankier, un-concdescending, un-preachy Tim Flannery-ish approach - hosted by the glorious Glenworth Valley on the Central Coast over 3 days, concluding in the early hours of the new year...(well, 11am, but that's pretty rough post NYE...)


Self-composting toilets that didn't compost, early morning yoga sessions, bare breasted Amazonian women and of course there was the mud...

My first Peats Ridge experience: roughing it to the max by camping out in the front seat of my rather restrictive Mitsubishi Mirage hatchback, awkwardly situated in the "no man's land" which turned out to be the drummer camping ground, and yet, I was livin' it up hardcore gallivanting from stage to stage, taking in all the bands

It's pretty funny, cos I wasn't officially allowed to interview anyone while I was up there I was allowed full photography type of access - you know, those types who wear their digital SLR's tightly round their necks darting around to all the best spots waving their AAA pass breezily in the crowd's faces - I was more the sheepish, apologetic type with a small canon digital..(i think..?)

and the results grace the proceeding pages...now the irony is that i am the absolute bloody WORST WORST WORST photographer you'll ever be snapped by...I develop a sudden onset of Parkinson's related symptoms whereby all my pics turn out hell blurry cos my hands inadvertently shakkkkkeee...Even my fellow mosh-ies took pity on me enough to have a go at a few snaps, such disdain they upheld for my snap-happy techniques...

It was weird: whilst I'd mapped out a mass itinerary for bands that I absolutely HAD to see (even though I missed a fair few of those..) so many people that I spoke with didn't really have any idea about the line-up - apart from the likes of headline acts: Blue King Brown, Sarah Blasko and Lamb - it was clear that maybe you do go to Peats Ridge for the "articles".

But there was so much else on offer for all and sundry: in particular it was all about that Bohemian Love Theatre (see more)

Even the token police presence seemed eager to join in on the theatrics...You could definitely feel the love in the air..

What was so redeeming the acceptance, the commonplace of that pseudo-gumboot footwear, known as the humble crocs (though, in my defence, they're not those ones with the crappy holes all over them) common attire for all the sloppy mud squelching necessary in getting from A to B (and even C or D, but don't even go to Z..) albeit facing a lot more of a slippery hazard...