Festival Coverage: Beacons 2014 - Day One
- Written by Georga Felcey
Beacons, annual arts and music festival cushioned in hills, sheep and more hills, this year proved its greatness with festival goers enduring the remains of a hurricane and still managing to make it a huge success.
Nestled in the Yorkshire Dales just like Emmerdale, the site is a quick taxi ride from Skipton station and surrounded by postcard views. Everyone is smiling and despite the looming grey clouds there are overwhelming feelings of excitement, involvement and fun. Walking past ‘Campling Plus’ I cast an envious gaze over the luxurious ‘glamping’ style tipis, particularly as it starts to spit, but as I get closer to the general camping the buzz starts to reach me and I pitch up next to some rowdy guys playing unknown but alluring beats through some dodgy speakers and head out to see my first act of the weekend, Sheffield two piece Nai Harvest.
Welcomed with the warmth of bodies to the well packed Noisey tent, they play through a stream of their best songs including ‘Buttercups’, ‘Rush’ and ‘Hold Open My Head’, kicking the festival off with their bouncy and melodic guitar. For the last song a topless happy man joins the duo onstage to sing a line and have a quick, well received dance before he is ushered away by security and Nai Harvest leave the stage to enjoy the rest of the festival.
I spotted the Churros Van a mile off and despite the fantastic range of food vendors which included the amazing Bundobust, Red’s True BBQ and Dough Boys Pizza, my first stop is at Senor Churros for a fix of piped donut goodness. Despite better judgement regarding the waist line, I head to another food stall, this time, I go for Haloumi Bites and I am punished with a Wasp sting that burns as much as the molten, freshly fried cheese. Itchy and painful leg, there is only one thing I can think of to cure it before I head off to catch DZ Deathrays…A milkshake, and guess what, Beacons can provide.
The Australian thrash pop power duo bash out an impressive set of rain inducing, thunderous riffs including those of catchy favourite, ’Gina works at Hearts’ to an upbeat crowd of hardy Beaconers as the showers turn into downpours. I dash back to the campsite to grab a jumper and my tent is home to a puddle, a big tent sized puddle. Everything is soaked, and I am now ‘that person’ who's pretty, pop-up tent is not up to scratch. Sadly this was the end of my Weekend at Beacons as I had to retreat home to sleep, left my purse somewhere along the way and was inflicted with a terrible cold, but the rest of the festival went on, powering through the storms with barely a hiccup.
Congratulations to all those who survived the mighty Beacons, as sadly I did not and will have to try again next year just like a sorry X-factor contestant.