Twas the third day of Wilderness when all through the festival grounds, not a creature was stirring, not even a mouse. On Saturday morning, Storm Antoni dumps a deluge of rain on Cornbury Park that turns every surface to mud. Typically, on each one of the four days that it runs, Wilderness is awake by 8am with revellers engaging in morning yoga or a cheeky barre class. Others stumble bleary-eyed in search of a coffee after an evening spent in the hedonistic late-night area The Valley. But not this morning. Instead, a downpour of near biblical proportions threatens to keep campers firmly ensconced in their tents.
As rumbling tummies eventually force festival-goers out into the cold rain, though, it becomes clear that even torrential conditions can’t dampen the spirit of this festival. Despite Wilderness often being mocked as the UK’s most middle-class, bougie festival – which, to be fair, it is – the sense of community that radiates throughout every area is palpable. People share umbrellas, and offer up spare rain ponchos to one another. Music, comedy and activities keep people shuttling from tent to tent, while the bartenders and food vendors work hard to keep the libations flowing through each cloudburst.
Perhaps, as Arlo Parks says during her heartfelt set on the Wilderness stage, a rained-out festival in the UK is “sacred”. After all, it is a quintessentially British experience to trudge through mud and dance in the rain. Some regular attendees say it is unusual for Wilderness to be as wet as it has been this year, but still, complaints are few and far between. Instead, “keep calm and carry on” becomes a mantra throughout the day.
On Friday night, before the heavens open, The Chemical Brothers send feet thumping with their serious club beats set to impressively trippy visuals. It is a rather amusing scene to see toddlers bouncing happily on the shoulders of their parents who bop along to the electronic feast. When the worst of the rain passes the following day, Parks leads the crowd in emotional sing-alongs to her songs “Eugene” and “Black Dog”, before Christine and the Queens mesmerises us with his theatrics. Sliding from one side of the stage to the other, he changes between black trousers and a voluminous red skirt to a blazer with huge angel wings on the back, all the while topless except for some nipple tape. The French star’s erotic energy delights captivated audiences.
Afterwards, the sky above lights up with a dazzling drone display that touches on “themes of nature and cosmic unity” – or so I’m told. It is undoubtedly a spectacle to behold: a giant stag gazes down at us and bows its head, as a frog leaps from a lily pad towards a star. Executed by Skymagic, the company who put on the incredible drone display at the late Queen Elizabeth II’s platinum jubilee celebrations last year, the show stops people in their tracks.
Finally, come Sunday, the sun comes out – as if rewarding us for soldiering on through the rain. It is, in a word, glorious. Over at the Atrium, the Wilderness Orchestra leads a teary-eyed audience in a rousing rendition of “Nothing Compares 2 U” in memory of Sinead O’Connor, who died days earlier. Meanwhile, on the Playing Fields, the annual Wilderness cricket tournament sees players in fancy dress recreating the recent 2023 Ashes series. The England team comprises King Charles III, a Just Stop Oil protester, and Penny Mordaunt’s memorable coronation look. Meanwhile, Australia’s cohort features a young boy in a kangaroo suit, a budget Kylie Minogue, and a Foster’s beer can playing to win. Oh, and who can forget the streakers? Penises, breasts and bums galore run laps around the cricket ground at regular intervals, sending spectators into peals of laughter and cheering.
The weather is rubbish and the festival is expensive (a bottle of Veuve Clicquot is £110 and a palm reading is £60) so it’s a true testament to the joys of Wilderness that almost everyone I speak to still plans to return next year. Rain or shine.
