Beat Herder

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Main stage at Beat Herder

Excitingly, I won tickets to a festival in Lancashire called Beat Herder.  I had never heard of Beat Herder before, but free is always good, and my festival calendar was looking a little bare this year. 

 

The Boyfriend’s reaction was rather more muted.  When asked if he was free and up for going, his first question was if this clashed with any sort of football.  Once every four years, getting even the most active and music loving man out of the house becomes a serious effort.  Having established there was no relevant football, we agreed he would come and I accepted the tickets.  The week before the festival, he had a lot of work to do in the evenings, which he decided to tackle by sitting watching Family Guy re-runs.

Working Men's Club
  Funnily enough, he was still writing the report he needed to do at 1am the day before the festival.

 

The night we were meant to go, I had all the camping stuff out on the floor and was just packing it up when he announced that we couldn’t possibly go to the festival until Murray had finished playing tennis.  “When will that be?” I asked, and instead of saying something comforting like “an hour or two” he said “whenever they’re done.”  This year, one of the tennis matches lasted ten hours.  I was not reassured.  It doesn’t help that I hate tennis even more than football.  At least stuff happens in football.  Entertaining goal celebrations, fouls, disallowed goals, blatant elbows to the face and interestingly bad decisions.  You don’t get any of that in tennis.

Working Men's Club
  I can’t care that Murray is Scottish, and I’m sorry to the millions of people who disagree with me, but fundamentally, tennis for me is like watching two guys glue a leaf to a windshield wiper and take bets on what side of the screen it will fall off.  No amount of patriotism makes up for the fact that they stand almost still and grunt at each other, and nobody does a little dance with their shirts over their head when they do well.

 

So when The Boyfriend FINALLY announced that he might consider going to a festival now, he was surprised to find me in what could loosely be termed A Bit of a Bad Mood.

 

Still, we wrestled the tent into the car and headed off into the wilds of rural Lancashire.  And we stood in an epic queue to collect me free tickets, which had mysteriously been deposited under the name Suzie.

me
  And then we wrestled the tent up on a steep slope.  And finally, we made it onto the actual festival arena.

 

Beat Herder is absolutely lovely.  It is tiny, even by the standards of boutique festivals, but there are loads of little tents with stages in them.  The main stage looks like the third stage at any larger festival, but no other festival has a fake working man’s club set up with cover bands and comedy in a tent, and I have never been to a nightclub under some trees before. There was also a whole tent with rugs on the floor and shisha pipes.  I didn’t have any myself, but they smelled fantastic.  It’s just that I am asthmatic and a wuss. The focus is more dance and less indie, which is new territory for me, but worked really well in the setting.

 

We saw a couple of bands and then danced under the trees for a while.

Working Men's Club - it's a Northern Thing!
  Iain relented and decided that actually, there were worse things than being henpecked into going to a festival, especially when it was close by and free.  More places should have amazing DJs under trees.  I am, of course, far too young and far too boring to have gone to the original raves, but this is a little like what I imagine  they would have been like.  Tired and (finally) happy, we went to bed. 

 

We were woken up at about half past five in the morning by a bunch of people sitting in a corner giggling outside our tent.  Not that we minded.  It’s a festival after all, and once upon a time I was nineteen and didn’t need to sleep either.  But we are sleepy and getting to be adults now.  Iain looked over at me and suggested that we drive home to get some sleep, and I agreed.

 

 

londonstudent says:
I so agree with you about tennis - except that the absence of shirt-lifting celebrations is for me the only plus point!
Posted on: Jul 05, 2010
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Main stage at Beat Herder
Main stage at Beat Herder
Working Mens Club
Working Men's Club
Working Mens Club
Working Men's Club
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Working Mens Club - its a Northe…
Working Men's Club - it's a North…
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