DJ Woof enters the tent and heads for the steps to rise to the occasion. At the top of the steps, on the stage the lights have dropped to black, a hush has descended across the crowd but the expectation is palpable. He boots up his laptop, launches the software and queues the set. With just the glow from the screen lighting his face and the bluebone logo on the laptop announcing his presence, DJ Woof is about to smash it!
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After a late night, DJ Woof is ‘sleeping it off’.
Crowds gather at the main Dance tent, they have all heard the rumours – after the disappointment of a headliner cancelling, DJ Woof is going to step into the breach! As he walks towards the gig of a lifetime, the set list is playing around in his head. ‘The crowds, look at the crowds!’
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Read MorePat the dog? It’s not Pat the dog, it’s Max or should I say DJ Woof!
Max’s impromptu set as a DJ at the campsite, dispelling the rain and bringing out the sun has catapulted him into the limelight. It’s early evening and Max (sorry, DJ Woof) has wandered into the Chai tent for a little refreshment before retiring. However, his fame on the decks has travelled far and wide across the site and he is now a household (should that be tenthold) name. What started off as a quiet drink quickly develops into a late night session. Ah, the trials and tribulations of fame…
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Read MoreIt’s raining cats and dogs!
With the rain pouring down, just like on any other self-respecting English festival, an unperturbed Max makes the best of a bad deal. He sets up a deck, pulls together a playlist and a passing stream of wet people stop and start to gather. Pretty soon the rain has been dispelled, the sun is out and DJ Woof is born!
Read More‘I think it’s raining’ Max overheard some passerby say whilst relaxing in his kennel. ‘To be expected’ he pondered, ‘I mean, you can’t come all this way into the English countryside and expect it NOT to rain. Can you?’. ‘I expect its only drizzle’. ‘It’ll stop soon’. ‘It’s only a shower’…
Ever prepared, Max starts to erect a canopy (he originally bought it for the sun but needs must ‘n’all). A table soon makes an appearance, just outside the entrance…
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Read MoreAmongst a forest of tents and flags, Max makes his way through, to find The Perfect Pitch.
“Here’s some space. And there’s a Diner nearby too. I’ll be able to get a bite to eat!’
Little does he realize that convenient is just a pseudonym for ‘stays open all day and all night and plays extremely bad music, extremely loud!’.
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Read MoreAs Max tramps through the Dance Village on his way to finding somewhere to pitch a tent, he passes through the hordes who have started, even if the festival hasn’t! One of the Dance tents stands ready in anticipation but it looks like they’re down a headliner!
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Read MoreThe queue has slowly brought Max to the entrance, where he is channeled into one of the tagging lanes.
‘Where would you like it, Sir?’
‘My left paw please’
‘Here’s your lanyard and mini-programme. Enjoy your festival!’
‘I intend to’
An over-zealous attendant gets carried away and Max ends up with four wristbands for the price of one!
‘I am not a number…’
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Read MoreAs Max makes his way through field after field, with cart in tow he is followed by someone who is looking to shake off the drudgery of daily life (well, it’s not much fun eating grass all day long, fattening yourself up for someone else’s pot, is it?). He eventually meets with others on a similar pilgrimage and being agile of paw (and a little less loaded down with refreshment), weaves a path through the beginnings of what will be the queue.
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