Here’s a little festival secret that you’ll only know if you have kids…
There’s a magic moment that happens every night. Every parent will have experienced it. And I reckon most quietly hope it’s their turn every night.
It’s usually around 11pm. You’re back at the tent and, after many pre-bedtime laughs, munchies, hot chocolates, toilet trips, stories, jokes and maybe one or two over-tired tears, sleep is finally taking hold of your little ravers. The symphony of stimulation and campsite chaos is slowly fading out.
All systems go. One of you can return to the festival and enjoy it like you used to.
How you decide which parent gets to go on this side quest is unique to your relationship, but adventure awaits whoever gets the green light. Pack your bag with a few treats and head back into the action. For a few hours only, every musical, entertainment and culinary choice you make is yours.
This is the secret world of all family-friendly festivals across the land.
From sundown to sunup (or as long their energy levels will let them – maybe 2am at a push) A major contingent of the crowd is rolling solo.
You don’t realise this until you become one yourself. Then you see them everywhere.
Someone pausing to actually savour their burger because they’re not being hassled or nagged or having their chips pinched. Another one is smiling wryly at a performer’s blue language because this time their 3yo isn’t there to hear a certain word and repeat it numerously over the weekend. Over yonder you’ll see another solo soul, skanking hard to the DJ without fear they’re going to be told they’re doing an embarrassing dad dance. Well, not by their own kids anyway.
For a couple of rare hours, they are free to reconnect with that festival vibe they fell in love with years before they committed to parental levels.
At first you feel like you’re missing something. Like you’ve turned up to DJ without a USB. You’ve gone from the intense range of explorations and emotions with your kids, who are still acclimatising to the escapism and vivid colour and sensory explosion of festivals (something I’ve not acclimatised to yet myself after 40 years of them), to total peace and calm and a free schedule where you can do as you choose.
Maybe go for a dance down the silent disco. Maybe buy a bumper pot of churros and eat the lot, knowing that you’re not going to get them squabbled off you. Why not both? Maybe even with a cider.
Well that’s what I’m planning to do on this particular night in question.
Then I hit this circle around a campfire and hear guitar strumming and my plans suddenly change…
Wild Life
Rewind. It’s Friday night. August last summer. We’re at Into The Wild. A super cute family festival in the rolling hills of Sussex. It’s been running for 10 years. This is our first time, but not our first rodeo. Like their parents, my kids are certified festival veterans. But new ones are always the most exciting as there’s lots of new corners to explore, plans to make, things to check, people to see. And we were certainly busy.
You see Into The Wild is different to many current festivals in that it doesn’t prioritise massive line-ups or over-hyped artists to catch ticket sales. It’s a much more wholesome affair where workshops, classes and talks are on an equal billing with the music. There are all kinds of crafts and creative things to get involved in and any number of wellbeing and nature-focused side quests. Tracking and trailing lessons, jewellery making, yoga, pilates, sound therapy, shelter building, wood whittling, blacksmithery, leather craft, looming, foraging. There are also talks from all kinds of environmental organisaitons such as Greenpeace, WWF, The Twelve Step Fellowship and the Sussex Wildlife Trust. The list of interesting things to hear, see, do, learn and participate goes on and on. Including a whole range of spa treatments.
This inspiring itinerary is backed by an equally wholesome musical menu. A sweet range of acoustic, folk, world and electronic sounds await curious ears. Over the weekend we were treated a wide range of musical delights from the North African rhythms of Daraa Tribe to the fiery sharp tongued rap of Viktus. From the hypnotic Indian tablas of Ustad Noor Bakhsh to the soothing Welsh lilt of Bethan Lloyd. Meanwhile on the more DJ-focused side of things, there were sets from the likes of Fatboy Slim’s son Woody Cook, psy-trance/techno fusionista SuperCLAUD and eclectic broadcaster / deep digging selector Ellie Talebian and many, many others.
Due the gathering’s size and nature, acts who’d usually get an earlier slot at bigger events are billed much higher. One such act just a few hours before was Vagaband. A super tight bluesy ensemble with psychedelic and bluegrass tendencies playing in the woodland stage, they’re the level of band you might see warming up at a bigger event but here they’ve got a peak hour and they have the crowd rocking. I take my budding guitar player daughter right to the front of the crowd. Unlike busier, more intense events where it’s usually best not to take your kids so deep into the crowd so late in the day, this feels safe, fun and inclusive. She’s beaming ear to ear as she studies the guitar player’s licks close up. I look around and see big smiles and even bigger dance moves everywhere, from a crowd of all ages.
I know we’ve found somewhere special. Somewhere we can show our kids everything we’ve always loved about festivals but in a safe and meaningful way.
Fete Awaits
Rewind even further… We already knew we were in for a banger the second we carted our bags through a wooded lane (past a particularly sassy tap) and arrive on the campsite. We’re treated to such a stunning vista. The whole thing takes place in dip between converging fields and it’s awash with flags, tents and old vans and buses.
It’s a scene that could be from any point since my first festivals my parents took me to in the late 80s. No big garish fairground rides, no little roadmen with bumfluff moustaches trying to sell us dodgy bag, no big piles of cans and rubbish everywhere, no corporate sponsorship. We pause to soak it up and soon-to-be-neighbours greet us as we spy a perfect spot. They ask if we need a hand setting up (yet another sign we’re in the right place with the right people).
Over yonder we see the tip of a maypole and we’re urged by regulars to get down to the main area for the opening ceremony. We pitch up and mooch down.
We’re not disappointed as we arrive to a sea of costume and song. The theme is nature and the imminent late summer harvest for farmers. The vibe is a perfect balance of village fete, community carnival and free party. Travellers, grandparents, circus kids, smiley people of all backgrounds dancing away. No ominous visible presence of security and no big bars on site at all (it’s not a dry event, and there’s a really nice brewery on site, but the general message and tone of the event is one that encourages sobriety and wellness over overt hedonistic)
You could imagine early Glastonburys being like this. Or even pagan festivals hundreds of years before. People arrive with instruments – guitars, bongos, violins, pipes and whistles of all shapes and sizes and a fair few accordions – and just jam. No one is leading or instructing. It’s a natural moment of togetherness. And it’s not a one-off.
Fired Up
Fast forward. I still feel the same about the place hours later. Just dipping into my late night solo parent adventure, making a beeline to the dance stage for my churro / cider / bopping combo I’ve been looking forward to and I see a similar crowd gathering around the fire pit. A younger, ravier version of me would breeze past and consider it all a bit kum-by-yah but – tuned into the festival’s rural, traditionalist vibe – I pause and sit down. Suddenly the whole group of seemingly random festival goers break into song. There are no song sheets, there’s nothing on the timetable. I ask around and it’s evident that this isn’t rehearsed, this isn’t a band doing some type of immersive performance, it’s just how Into The Wild folk roll.
I lean into it. The DJs can wait (and I’d already bought my churros) Instruments come out of nowhere, including even a didgeridoo… From a man literally sitting next to me! By this point my mind is blown. Over 40 years of travelling to, participating in, dancing at and working for huge events around the world – right since I was a teeny little raver myself – and I’ve seldom experienced anything as simple and as timeless as this. In some way it’s the biggest festival cliché of all – guitars and bongos in a circle by a campfire is such a cheesy old stereotype! But yet I’d never actually taken the time to enjoy one and it sets the tone and scene for the whole weekend. I turn and talk to various people, many of them are like me, solo parents enjoying their own little late night missions. I learn how the festival has developed a ‘best kept secret’ status and how once you’ve popped your Into The Wild cherry, you’ll be coming back for more. I’m fascinated and hooked. I can’t wait until my family wake up so I can tell them everything I’ve learnt about the place.
Friends
The next two days are awash with these moments. We make friends with a family who’s kid is doing craft as my son. It’s their first ever time camping and they hadn’t packed certain essentials but were sorted out by their neighbours. I speak to a guitarist who’s teaching kids for free and he gives me tips on how I can help my kids develop as players. Our little ravers whittle mushrooms from blocks of wood and make play figures out of fir cones, nuts and bolts. We get involved in various conga lines, watch a girl hang from her hoop from just her hair and listen to a man talking about making drum skins. We eat loads of really nice food. Our campsite neighbours become part of our troupe, we share our supplies and tips on exciting things happening across the site. All throughout there’s a powerful sense of connection and appreciation.
This is the true essence of what a festival needs to be and how it builds a community and connects people.
It’s how my Dad describes the little folk festivals that I went to as a kid and how festivals were when he went to them as a young man in the 70s.
It’s how a lot of smaller, more community focused and folky festivals are today if you forage hard enough and look past the big commercial ones that dominate so much of electronic music culture and come with so many extra costs and queues and a crowd who are only really together because they like getting wavey and enjoy some of the same DJs.
Into The Wild is a reminder of what a festival truly is and has been since the earliest days of public gatherings. So many events these days are spectacles rather than communal gatherings. Events where your only participation is spending money and choosing which acts you’ll see on the mega-ramped stages.
Not to totally dismiss those type of mega events. They have their place and I’ve had many great memories at them – from the crowd perspective and from the stage as a DJ or festival worker – but when it comes to bringing the next generation through and showing them how things can be, and how so many different generations and people from all backgrounds can unify in such a way, you cannot get any better than a festival like this. Small, friendly and a schedule that doesn’t impose on you but merely helps you find your own fun and participation and gives you opportunities to do things, learn things and connect in a way that you haven’t before. And whether that’s with the full family during the day, or during one of those moments on a solo raving one, the whole thing is magic.
Now in its 12th year Into The Wild returns to the Chiddinglye Estate, Sussex, once again. August 28-31. Like so many others who’ve attended before, I’ve already promised my family I’ll take them again. I’m already quietly hoping I get a few solo magic moments, too…
Into The Wild Info & Tickets
