Cropredy

 August 11 - 14 2022

Meet on the ledge

It was a spur of the moment decision, back in January; we saw an advert for the Cropredy Festival in the Saturday paper, and decided to book. We’d been to the Cambridge folk festival a couple of times, but only day visits, so this would be our first full-on festival experience. As a bonus, it is held only about 40 minutes away from Stratford, just north of Banbury.

The festival has been run since 1979 by the legendary folk-rock band Fairport Convention, growing over the years to encompass a lot of genres other than folk music. As the weekend drew closer, we could see it was going to be one of the hottest of the year – unusually for a festival, we didn’t pack our wellies!

On arrival at 11.00am, we were directed to pitch in field 7a; there being about 10 camping fields, some for tents and small campervans, others for larger units. The initial impressions were good; it was well organised, volunteers were friendly and helpful, and there seemed to be plenty of (clean and smart) toilets in the field. The music didn’t start until 4pm on the first day, so we had plenty of time to get organised before taking the 10-minute walk to the arena, which was visible and audible from our pitch. After a long, but swiftly moving, queue for our wristbands (for entrance/exit over the 3 days), we were in the arena in time for the first act.

All set up in the field

The stage and arena were visible from our van

The field was sloping, so even further back (as we were) there was a good view of the stage and screens. Both sides were lined with every manner of food stall, from Nepalese, through Jamaican, Mexican, and Chinese, to yer basic fish’n’chips, and the huge beer tent run by Hook Norton brewery. The rear of the field was full of children’s activities, for this is very much a family festival. It was not uncommon to see 3 generations of a family together. Although we were sharing the field with about 20,000 others, everyone was very respectful of other people’s space, and we never felt hemmed in. With the afternoon heat now over 30 degrees, Ruth retreated to the van for a while, returning after sunset; the ageing hippy of the family felt that there was too much good music to miss…

The first evening gave a good indication of the mix of music; Fairport Convention opened the show with a short acoustic set; we had reggae from Edward II, ethereal Celtic music from Clannad, with the beautiful voice of Moya Brennan, and rounded off by the veteran record producer Trevor Horn and his band recreating a string of 80’s hits with which he had been involved.

The next morning, we walked along the Oxford canal, which cuts through the festival grounds, into the village of Cropredy. The canal was lined with boats, many of which were the homes of craftspeople; John entered into the festival spirit by buying a leather wristband. 

Along the Oxford canal

The village embraces the festival; houses were decorated with scarecrows for the village scarecrow festival, the school and community centre were selling breakfasts, the two pubs were busy, with live music, and there was generally a welcoming feeling. Over the years the festival has raised money for many local charities, including the purchase of a new bell for the village church – appropriately named The Festival Bell.

Turin Brakes on stage

Over the next two days the temperature was due to hit 35 degrees, so on both days we went to the arena about 2pm, even though the music started at midday. Again, Ruth retreated to the van during the heat of the late afternoon. The variety of music was incredible; the passionate singer-songwriter Martyn Joseph, Irish jigs from the great accordion player Sharon Shannon and her band, bawdy humour from The Bar Steward Sons of Val Doonican, 70s prog-rock from Steve Hackett and Genesis Revisited, indie rock from Turin Brakes, and the American hippy rockers The Slambovian Circus of Dreams. As is normal, Fairport Convention closed the festival on Saturday night. At the end of the rousing set, the thousands in the arena joined in with the traditional closing number “Meet on the ledge”, the sound carrying over the moonlit fields.

Anticipating a rush, we were up and away early on Sunday, and home by 9.30am! Would we do it again? Definitely.

 

Meet on the ledge, we’re gonna meet on the ledge,

When my time is up, I’m gonna see all my friends….