High & Dry festival 2009

The Peats Ridge Festival had been cancelled for the year. Rumours had been circulating as to why this happened – no volunteers, too many tickets sold, the property owners had pulled the plug, the list goes on – but we’ll stick with the wet weather one. All our hopes of barefoot bliss had been lost… until about six hours later when another rumour gained momentum – a new festival was being frantically organised in its place. Thank f**k, I thought, because I took the whole week off work and I ain’t sitting at the wharf for yet another New Year’s fireworks.

The next day it had been confirmed, and with just over a week to organise it, the Highandry Festival was born. They described it as “three days of music and party mayhem to bring in the new year with style, this is the event that had to happen, giving a venue to all those displaced party people without a proper party to call their own.”

The venue was only an hour away from the Peats Ridge site. We drove four hours from the North Coast, over about seven rickety old bridges I swear were built by the convicts, and followed some little white traffic signs put there by our very thoughtful organisers. They informed us of dips, awesome rally corners, and just to generally SLOW THE F**K DOWN! Through all the dirt my driver was lovingly destroying our supposed ‘off road tyres’, we spotted two teepees in a sunken valley and realised we had finally arrived.

We were lucky enough to be camping with the drummers circle next to the river, so we picked our slice of prime real estate under the shade of the poplar trees and set up camp. Now, if anyone has ever been camping with our mate Chris from The Drop, they’ll know that it’s not called camping when he does it – it’s advanced hanging out. He’d arrived a day early and had kitchen (complete with blender, stove and sink) lounge room, dining room and swimming pool all set up for our arrival. He’d also gone ahead and slashed away most of the blackberry bushes that occasionally sliced our ankles up. We also had our beautiful friend Kevin staying at the camp. Kevin was the amazing-composting-sawdust-eco-toilet man who seemed to be constantly working in order to keep our bowels happy. Love you Kevin.

The Highandry opening was at 10am on the 30th. The didgeridoos started the day of, and we were taught a few traditional Aboriginal dances in between learning the rules and fire escape plans for the week. (Basically, the plan was that if there was a fire we were all f**ked anyway, so we’d just all meet in front of the Jollywood stage and have a chat.) In the short amount of time they had to organise the festival, they had a pretty impressive lineup for us. There were over 60 acts on six different stages, with everything from cabaret and stand-up comedians, to lullabies and blow your mind drum n bass.

The Jollywood stage had an awesome array of talent: Fuji Collective, Rica Tetas, Ras Gong Guerrillas, The Drop, and Mr Bamboo were some that I was lucky enough to see. But you can’t forget Lee Roy Lee who sang us to sleepy bliss on a hot ass day under the shade of the marquee, or the band I never caught the name of that played everything from Kenny G to Mr Bungle, fronted by a Ron Jerome look-a-like sporting a yellow PVC g-string and matching kiddies’ floaties. I figured they were either the Space Cowboys or the Crooked Fiddle Band – both names seemed to fit.

The Dub Shack was a chill out haven found next to the beach, which played Rasta beats and dubstep while we cooled off in the creek. It was an awesome spot for chillaxin’ and a midday paddle, or midnight hip-hop battles and some carpeted stomping with The Sniffer Dogs and Altifari.

The Solar Dome looked like a giant golf ball and had me tripping on what looked like the birth of a tadpole projected on its walls. They played an eclectic range of techno from progressive house to tribal beats and some postwar French café music that had us prancing around like drunk mosquitoes until the wee hours of the morning.

Next to that was the Comical Sanguine Northwood Fiasco – a tiny stage that gave us really bad magic tricks, scary skeleton dudes, balloon twisters, fire breathers, cabaret, and a kid that could twist himself into knots I can’t even do with a piece of string.

What I thought was a bunch of truckers making camp and drinking kegs on the first night, actually turned out to be the Dog n Duck stage. It was a well-lit party tent and played great sets of ska, reggae, hip-hop and much more. You felt like you were at your much older and heaps cool cousin’s house party while the folks were out of town. Perfect for last dance on your travels from the golf ball to your camp.

Sadly, the main campsite was a little too sunny in the mornings. Those lucky enough to camp in the shade on the edges could sleep in til about nine, but those in the middle got sweated out by about seven. One guy described it to me as the Nylon Valley of Death, as the majority of campers had been squeezed in like tinned sardines.

At the edge of the Nylon Valley of Death was the Ginger Bread House and massage teepees. It was an elaborately decorated chill out complete with couches, board games, super 8 films, open mike stage and comedians. Every night they put out huge bowls of lollies and nuts, cakes and freshly baked cookies to satisfy the many stimulated taste buds that happened to float by.

The best chai tea award went to the kid at the Tantric Turtle Gypsy Café. Not only does this pre-pubescent ball of energy make a wicked cup of chai, but he showed us some card tricks, taught us to milk a cow, and then managed to sell us a piece of every cake and biscuit they had to offer- and we weren’t even hungry! He’s the next Tim Shaw from Demtel I swear.

The Highandry organisers had thought of everything. We had tyre swings, mud baths, pet shop, body art salon, stalls, great coffee and Jake the Bush Tucker man. He gave us a 2 hour lesson on how to survive in the outback…. Basically don’t eat anything – most of it can kill you. His family had driven 500kms from WA when they found out that Peats Ridge had been cancelled, but they came anyway. A good thing they did cause now I know how to fish without a rod or bait, and skin an eel.

The Drummers Circle was found past the statue of Buddha, under the poplar trees by the river- an awesome breezy spot where they stopped drumming only to eat and sleep. The beats kept your hips shaking, and smiles beaming, but also sent me to a colourful sleep every night. The talent that would grace our little corner never stopped, with a different musician pulling up a chair and influencing a new rhythm or tune every time.

New Years Eve was a magical night – dress ups and masks filled the valley, stars were in full bloom, and the musical feast was delicious. Hermitude brought us in for the New Year on the Jollywood stage and the long party got started. The stages were positioned at perfect distances from each other, so there was no obvious overlapping of styles at any point. As a token to the organisers, I wasn’t aware of one mishap all weekend. For a first time festival, the Highandry team did an awesome job. I think I would’ve had just as much fun watching all the headliners of Peats as I did watching Rapaport on the hill. To the team who put this awesome festival together, THANK YOU SO MUCH!! It was the ultimate end to a strange year, and the beginning of what is already turning out to be an epic one. Highandry… much love!! x x

- Tori