You may remember the lovely Eldon from such previous festival blog reviews as: Shambala 2018 and Boomtown Fair 2018. Well, he is one of my best friends, and a pure diamond human. He moved to Australia in December, and I’ve missed him dearly!
Eldon‘s a bloody good boy though, and a huge supporter of everything I’m doing with Where’s My Tent?. Before he left for Australia, he did his research, and found a festival that sounded right up his street. He managed to get tickets, and in early March he went to his first festival down under. AND he only went and wrote me a guest review of it! What a cutie!
In his own words and with his own unique style, here’s Eldon’s take on Golden Plains festival 2019…
[This post has been regulated by the fun police and is now appropriate for all audiences.] 😉
It’s the other side of the world and truly, truly upside down. Golden Plains festival, at the Supernatural Amphitheatre in Meredith, lives up to its name entirely.
I booked this festival before I left for Australia, and left for Australia with no idea what to expect from the country. There’s some pretext here around what I’ve learnt of differences between NSW and Victoria as States, which I wanted to touch on.
I was warned of Sydney lockout laws; no re-entry after 1 am and early final orders which have pushed the nightlife out of the CBD. I have been met by tight bouncer after tight bouncer. [Absolutely my bad the second time for walking into a club with a pint in my hand – what do you mean I can’t drink in the road?] But it’s apparent that the conversation around this runs a little deeper – there’s an election coming up, pill testing is actually being contested(!?), tougher new regulations will appear in under a month which include ‘user pays’ policing, which will push ticket prices of ‘high risk’ festivals through the roof.
There’s a worry about the future of music in Sydney, so, I’m keen to get to what Aussie’s call a ‘Doof’. [As a Pom, I have been pronouncing this word embarrassingly wrong since my arrival]. A Doof is an outdoor dance party, held in a remote country area or Bush, well out of the city. I want to imagine that a Doof is the romantic hero to this story. I’ve fallen into so many subreddits, closed FB groups and blogs about them, so if you’re reading this, in Sydney and can drive… hit me up, man’s got needs.
Golden Plains was recommended to me as one of the top 10 festivals in Australia and is based in Meredith, Victoria and has twice won awards as Australia’s Favourite Festival. I’m not sure it’s a Doof entirely, but Meredith, Victoria is officially the furthest away I’ve ever been. I am a liability and a risk to myself at the best of times and I understand that I may have consequentially unnerved a few friends back home by booking this. I have a poxy 7kg baggage allowance to fly into Melbourne and I don’t have my beloved festival Queen with me, [props WMT] but this weekend I learned that adventure starts at the furthest point you go to.
Welcome to Golden Plains, a supernatural event at the far side of the world. Where the elements, stars and people come together to celebrate an astronomical event. Well done on knowing to be there.
I’m hitting up GP with Pear, a good friend of mine from Uni who’s also on ‘a year, maybe two, maybe won’t come back because it’s so good here’ year abroad. We catch up in Melbourne and head to Brunswick for beers and to check out a store, Frothlyf which I was dying to get to based on a recommendation and was genuinely cool AF.
Pear and I organised the coach into GP, ‘The Supernatural Express’, and no, there was no thrill to be had here, except for a nice sticker they give you which says, “thank you for using the bus” #browniepoints. We get into Meredith and this is when the first time that I realised that this is actually a bit weird. We’re dropped in the very middle of the campsite. There was no security check, no slog to and from the car, no queue for wristbands [they’re posted out two weeks in advance] – we were literally dropped off and ready to go.
The campsite, Blue Gums, is so named because you’re camping in a forest of Blue Gum trees, these long, thin trees with all the bark constantly falling off in big sheets. Kinda eerie, kinda cool. Hammocks and gazebos are everywhere. [Aussie’s love a gazebo]. They’re tied to the trees, tents are tied to trees and then you realise the second thing that’s a bit weird, that you’re surrounded by cars, that they’re also in the trees. Why would I want to be camped down in a car park for?
But actually, this amalgamated forest car park hybrid works and was explained quite quickly with what I think is an another Aus mentality. Your stuff is accessible, there’s no hard slog from 3 miles away to carry your tent, which means, it’s NOT HARD TO TAKE YOUR TENT HOME.
In the run-up to the festival, you’re contacted by Aunty Meredith, your go-to for all things GP and it’s clear that this sense of community and respect is at the heart of this festival. I’m terrible at reading up on things before I do them, so was pleasantly surprised to learn a few things at GP which unfolded before me.
There are no brands or advertising at this festival. Ticket prices are a little dearer than other festivals, at A$400, to keep GP independent. There were so many wonderful craft beers and I loved it. The two bars, Eric’s and The Flamingo Bar, were wonderfully ‘pop up’, and the rest of the festival is BYO and drink what you like, as long as you don’t bring glass. Food came from smaller, nicer huts such as the Meredith Town Community Kitchen, who did a sterling A$3 (£1.60) egg barm and even fed people free at the end of the festival who needed sustenance after ‘burning the candle, perhaps’.
It’s made clear that there’s a ‘no dickhead’ policy at GP. It’s even in the terms and conditions. Now, after what a few exes have said, this had me worried. What is dickhead behaviour here?
“There has been a No Dickhead Policy since the early 90s. In part, it means looking after yourself and others. In part, it just means treating each other with respect.
If you are a dickhead, this festival isn’t for you. If you have a dickhead mate, please leave them at home. Dickheads, or people doing dickhead things, will usually find that someone firmly but politely lets them know that their dickhead behaviour is not admired or appreciated. The dickhead will usually realise they are being a dickhead and pull their head in. If not, they’ll need to leave.”
…I think the above just says to be nice to people…
Between some of the sets on the GP stage is a slot for ‘Housekeeping’. Who is this mystery band who scored not one, but four slots at GP? Why have I never heard of them? ‘Housekeeping’ is actually an MC’d tidy up of the amphitheatre. You are actively encouraged, and called out, through cheeky song and dance to pick up litter and tidy the camp, for the sake of volunteers and of people around you, who are ready to enjoy the space.
Inspired! *claps* I bloody love it. It was funny. It kept things nice and this is why we can have nice things. The entire festival was kept beautiful from start to finish, by the volunteer’s hard work, but also by this respectful attitude.
There is only one stage at GP, and this is to concentrate on the actual music. There are no “things on sticks” (flags etc) allowed in the amphitheatre before 1 am so that you can focus on the music. There are also 150-200 eclectic sofas dotted around the outer ring of the amphitheatre, [which again, inspired] and are brought by folks who return to the Plains year on year, to sit, chill and just focus on the music.
Imagine, just kicking back with your mates on your Mam’s settee – ‘bev in one hand, sunset over the field, the velvet sound of a guitar rings through a gorgeous stage – the year’s 2019 and life’s great. Pear and I got talking to this one crowd who even pimped their ride, adding upgrades, year on year to their three-seater; a bar top, secret compartments, a pull out bed.
The set times of bands also seemed to follow no curated order. Why was Four Tet scheduled at 5.20pm on Sunday? I don’t know, but I will talk about the music.
In Aus, events start with a ritual advocating for unity and reconciliation, recognising the original owners of the land. A Wadawurrung oversaw this, acknowledging the pain inflicted on Kulin Nations people over the last 230 years.
Saturday, was a bit of a blur … [This section has been moderated and removed by the fun police]… and then I look up and Beach House were this wonderful cacophony of light and sound, my new best friend 4eva, Lucy, was in tears that we got her close to the front, albeit it unable to take photos as my phone is now dead in a river somewhere. Beach House was awesome. I believe they even bought their own on stage speakers and lights to the set which just amplified everything more. I drowned in a sea of blue light and smoke, with electricity running around the ‘sup from the LED rings dotted throughout the trees and the lanterns swaying overhead.
Pear introduced me to the wonderful Amp Fiddler and I’m so happy that she did. His disco energy brought the sun back and set the afternoon up perfectly. Ugandan born, SK Simeon was one of my favourite performers of the weekend. His dancehall reggae was a party.
Now, Victoria is known for having four seasons a day. There was no way to prepare for this festival on 7kg baggage allowance from Sydney, where it’s still so effing hot in March, whereas GP was met with storm warnings. I do believe, however, that this was all part of a very particular timeline.
I said the stars lined up. They lined up at 5.20 pm Sunday with Four Tet. Everything synced when it was meant to.
It was gorgeous. Kieran Hebden stirs nothing short of witchcraft, mixing beats with the clouds in the sky to reveal the sun behind him, setting over the ‘sup, transporting everyone to this ‘place’.
It’s at this time in a festival where everyone is transported, it is a supernatural event after all. We were transported for seven hours by New Yorker Danny Krivit and Balearic icon DJ Harvey, who played a darker side of disco, which was everything. I want to do that again. The show was closed by Melbourne DJs Millú and Pjenné, who have been building a solid following over the last few years in the Melbourne underground scene and are now happily, and firmly on my radar. The show was incredible.
Phone and wallet are still lost in this great beyond, possibly the far side of the moon. Might’ve left part of my consciousness there also. Thank you, Aunty Meredith.
