I think I've been to my fair share of music festivals. But when I went to my first literary festival at Hay-on-Wye a few weeks ago, it was a new, and very pleasurable, experience indeed. There were so many reasons why Hay is so wonderful. Here's just a few:
1) Book shops - Clearly books are what Hay Festival is all about. And of course they have books for sale at the festival site, but the real treasure troves are found in Hay village: it's not called the secondhand bookshop capital of the world for nothing. There are so many bookshops, stalls and even just boxes stashed inside the doorway of other shops or buildings that it's overwhelming. When I first arrived and had stepped inside my second store, I felt a little dizzy looking at the floor-to-ceiling rows of books. My eyes couldn't move fast enough, and my poor little brain certainly couldn't process all the information fast enough. The situation wasn't helped by the fact that I had the relentless pangs of hunger stalking me. Once I had remedied the hunger issue, I addressed the bookshop challenge afresh, with the verve of an explorer setting off on an expedition. It was wonderful. I found so many oddities and interesting pages. Yet I was strict with myself and only ending up buying four books (and one was a present). My favourite shops were the outdoor shelves by the castle where the books had a slight weather-worn tinge, which only enhanced their charm, and the Hay Cinema Bookshop. This giant of a shop (as the name suggests, located in the converted cinema) swallowed me whole. I literally got lost in it. Towering shelves of books on every subject surrounded me. There are steps up to various floors and half levels between floors to add to the confusion. At one point when I found myself down another dead end, I thought I'd have to find some comfy tomes and bed down for the night. It's worth noting that despite spending a lot of my time in Hay exploring the secondhand bookshops, I barely scratched the surface. Next time I'll equip myself better for such a challenge.
2) The queues - As the stereotype goes, we British are pretty nifty at queuing. If that is the case, then Hay Festival has got to be the crown jewel in the queuing calendar. When queuing for events, there was the obligatory velvet rope to indicate the general direction of the line. But then it disappeared. It was replaced by a painted line on the ground, and in some cases, no markings at all. But lo and behold, everyone queued perfectly. We all happily followed the orderly line in the fashion it was meant. It would've been easy to jump the queue in some stretches but that's not the spirit of Hay.
3) The facilities - The toilets were nothing like festival toilets: not a port-a-loo in sight. They were mobile buildings with running water, flushing and mirrors. It's a very different crowd. The inverse to these were the water points dotted around the site. You could take your trusty bottle and replenish it with fresh drinking water. As an aquaphile, I was as happy as a fish in water.
4) Welsh cakes - The beautiful, doughy, yet crispy edged discs of joy. Flat, sugar coated bites of raisin filled goodness griddled to perfection. For sale at several locations at the side of the road. AT THE SIDE OF THE ROAD. Like me, do you struggle without a handy snack? Fear not! The five minute trek betwixt the festival and the village is enhanced by kindly people offering a sugar rush for pennies. I've never done one, but I imagine it's like the pitstop stations on a marathon route.
5) Frank Turner - This man's music has soundtracked my life, through good and bad, over almost the past decade and being part of the crowd at his shows is one of the most life-affirming things you can do. Frank had just released a book about life on the road as a travelling musician. Hay was offering the chance to see him play and talk about his book (honestly, his music shows are heavily laden with story-telling anyway). It was a no-brainer. I've been to a lot of Frank Turner shows, but this was a new, if slightly surreal experience. The music took place in a kind of lecture theatre and so, accordingly, everyone was politely sat down. Things soon took a turn for the rowdy when a few odd woohs escaped into the auditorium. The crowd was looking around to see who would start the standing. It didn't take long. I mean, there was no mosh pit, but the guy I was with, who had worked there all week, said it was most certainly the liveliest he'd seen it.
6) David Crystal - A linguist, writer, lecturer and all round very clever man. I first came across David Crystal in my reading list at college. His books helped me to success in my A Levels and on to university. They also gave me much more enjoyment than anyone should have the right to have when picking apart the workings of English, and language in general. In short, he's a hero of mine. So I had to go see him, and his son Ben, talk about their new dictionary of Shakespeare. They were so entertaining and brilliantly insightful. But the real charm came from their stage shenanigans, where despite working together, that father-son repartee was clear for all to see. I left very happy and with a renewed love of language.
7) A poet for hire - On the cobbled streets of Hay, outside the castle sat a young man dandily dressed hawking his wares. His wares were poems, typed up for you then and there on a tiny antique typewriter. What's not to love? Seems normal in Hay.
8) The countryside - Hay-on-Wye is positioned on the River Wye. It sits just on the Welsh side of the Wales / England border and at the North tip of the Brecon Beacons. In short, it's blessed by a sublime, lush landscape of rolling hills. Driving to and from the village is a sensory treat itself. Even arriving amidst black storm clouds hovering over the mountains made it breathtakingly beautiful.
9) Honesty boxes - Honesty plays a big part of life in Hay. I guess there's just no point in being underhand here. Many of the book shops and some of the hidden treasure troves of bric-a-brac 'shops' are just left to fend for themselves. Customers are invited to browse and if they find something that interests them to the point of purchase, then they are trusted to deposit the required funds in a box on their departure. The whole process is beautiful in its simplicity, nonchalance and honour.
10) Enthusiasm - Everyone at Hay Festival is there because they are enthusiastic. Enthusiastic about books, writers and reading. You can feel the positivity in the air. We were all united in a common love, and a common purpose for that moment in time: to celebrate our love of reading and maybe to discover new loves. Every person I spoke to (and I spoke to quite a few people - enthusiastic people are keen to share their enthusiasm) was helpful and friendly. People were keen to pass on recommendations and reviews of speakers they'd seen or books they'd read. The kids that were there in their droves ran about with a spark that was shining so brightly, even for sugar-addled youngsters. I think it was the magical spirit of Hay. Everyone was happy to be there. I hasten to add it wasn't cult-like in its positivity; I'm the first person to recoil at the slightest idea of organised happiness. The topics discussed didn't shy away from important issues and the arguments in life. It was just that Hay provides a forum for all. It was just the right mix of enthusiasm and cynicism, with tasty Welsh cakes thrown in for good measure.
