As I write, this house is literally pulsating with the sound of Lionel Ritchie’s All Night Long…

No, we haven’t gone mad, this party pleaser is emanating from the nearby campsite at Punchestown, where 100,000 Oxegen-goers have started to gather…

Yes, for the second time this year, its Festival time at Punchestown, but the two events could not be further poles apart.

It all started when 34 year old Somerset Farmer Michael Eavis organised the first Glastonbury festival – with Marc Bolan headlining and free milk for every festival goer. Glastonbury was by no means the first or biggest rock festival to grace Britain’s fields, but it was arguably the event that kick-started the UK, and in turn, Ireland’s love affair with outdoor music extravaganzas.
I was too young to make it to Feile (the legendary Trip to Tipp) but the stories I hear mostly involve dodgy campsites, and even dodgier camper vans all set against a soundtrack of great Irish legends like Christy Moore, The Saw Doctors, and The Stunning.
It was to be some years later that festivals began again in earnest. Witness (now Oxegen) originated in Fairyhouse Racecourse but eventually moved to Punchestown in 2004 to replace ‘Creamfields’, a dance extravaganza.
And that’s when my love affair with festivals began…
Living practically in the shadow of the Punchestown Grandstand, we’d been to Creamfields, but by then, I was thankfully starting to tire of the dance culture – a girl’s got to grow up sometime, and Oxegen was a welcome release from bottled water and sweat-soaked tents.
The first year kicked off with a great line up, The Cure, Muse and The Darkness, and since then, its been rare that living next door to Oxegen hasn’t meant access to some fantastic bands. In 2006 being heavily pregnant didn’t mean I couldnt enjoy theChilli Peppers, though 50,000 over-enthusiastic moshers meant I had to make a premature escape from the Artic Monkeys. In 2007 we had Muse, and in 2008 Snow Patrol and REM.
In 2009, the memories are a bit blurry. My youngest child had been born in May, and by July, this Mammy badly needed a night out. As I said the details are sketchy but it did involve some contraband vodka, toppling over during the Killers and finally needing to be hosed off before I could present myself to my mother in law who was babysitting… I’d say it was a great night…
But then everyone has their festival moment. Of course I’m told I’m too old to go – but trust me, I’m by no means the oldest you’ll see wading through the mud, bravely clutching two pints and a burger. And yes, there probably are better festivals – only this year thanks to Alan Bennett and his blog http://www.wherethemoodtakesme.com/ I learned of several others that I wouldnt mind visiting but for now, well, this one is next door and no matter how wet, how weary, how (ahem) tired and emotional I get, my bed is never any further than 25 minutes from the main stage. Now, not even Kate Moss could say that!

Yes, I’ll be there again this year. Its not about the hardship, the rain, the portaloos, its about the memories, about the craic and the cameraderie. As Joni Mitchell wrote in her classic ballad ‘Woodstock’
‘And I feel to be a cog in something turning’
May I never be too old…