Old Magick

Breakfast on the sun-kissed balcony then a repeat of the hot 10k to the abandoned hoverport. I won't lie. There were casualties. I swallowed a fly at one point. I don't know why. Perhaps I'll die. And I drowned about a 100 thunder flies and one pair of Bluetooth headphones. Horrible way to go - drowning in sweat.

The hoverport was nicely desolate. As Sobriquey would say, you could picture the hovercraft taking off and flying up into the air like the hovercraft that would bring in the wounded in MASH.

After lunch on the SKB there was just time for a Mochaccino by the harbour and then it was over to the pub that was hosting the final leg of the weekend's music. This was in a tiny upstairs room in the hottest pub in Kent. Steven James Adams played alone with his guitar. Stuff from the Broken Family Band right through to his new LP (which was probably pictured in these very pages sometime over the last few months). His tiny kids were playing on the floor in front of him. It was a sweet concert. At the end, to get away from the massive artist/audience divide, he unplugged and moved to the other side of the room.

It's been a great little festival - lots of bands that I would have to paid to see separately - let alone together. And the audience always contained people from the other bands. Nice.

Then it was put into the sunshine and along the harbour wall to have fish and chips and pale ale (the signature drink of the weekend) for the gentlemen, glass of Prosecco for the ladies while the sun set. Slowly.