Various Artists

As I lay in a hungover state yesterday, the familiar head pounding and light headedness dragged me back to similar memories of last weekend. Whilst spending your weekend constantly on the verge of throwing up may not be on everyone’s 'to-do list', it’s definitely something I’d recommend doing if it’s as much fun as Creamfields 2013 was.


Friday

I generally spent the first day of the festival looking around the site and getting a feel for the place. This one was no different, and I had plenty of time to get a good look at the £5 burgers and other outrageously priced necessity, be it food or wellies; this, of course, being as good an excuse as any for getting out of bed too late to get to the festival at a decent time, and by the time I did get there, the queue was absolutely massive (the One Direction 'This Is Us' premier couldn't touch it).

Despite various people telling me that this would be a weekend filled with class A drugs and absolute knob heads; I was pleasantly surprised to find that everyone around me was incredibly pleasant and clearly there just to have a good time, cue the exchange of travelling anecdotes and cheaper by the dozen ales. When I eventually got in, I was told to make my way to Green camp, where I already had a few mates perched. Apparently competition for camping spots was cutthroat and I should “get a f****ing move on”. My friends had conveniently placed themselves as far away from the entrance as possible, probably in an attempt to annoy me. Note for next year – get there on time, and take a trolley to carry things - the only way to avoid an early onset of arthritis and having to fork out inordinate amounts of dosh for a rental, makeshift, wheelbarrow.


Saturday

Saturday definitely felt like the biggest day and despite the constant threat of the British summer actually happening, I went out with the intention of having one hell of a day. The morning (yes, morning!) was spent trying to find some cheap food and generally wondering why the festival recommended 24 cans of beer, which could clearly only last one night.

Saturday brought some pretty huge names to the festival, and there was plenty to see. I definitely should have bought a planner, because I had absolutely no idea what time anyone was on. There were a few highlight performances for me. Borgore completely tore up the North Stage. Annie Mac also treated the party-going crowd to an electrifying set. Knife Party rekindled the South Stage before Avicii completely set it alight with their iconic tune Levels. I then went to mosh to The Prodigy. I’ve previously heard Keith Flint say The Prodigy play their best sets when they start in the light and end in the dark, but anyone would have a tough time beating this set with Flint & co. banging out tune after tune to the pleasure of the crowd.

Eric Prydz finished the night off for me before I crashed half in half out of my tent at around 02:30. Pathetic, I know. Note for next year – Get a planner...try and stay awake.


Sunday

Today saw me burn through the last of the £100 I took to the festival, leaving me to finish off the evening disappointingly sober. With various performances taking place in the pavilions, I was expecting a pretty dull sound experience, but the quality of the sound was absolutely superb, with the tents holding it all in almost flawlessly.

The sound of the South Stage was occasionally marred by the bass overflow from the pavilion next to it. However, thankfully, the weather gods decided to give us a blinder of a day, which is a vast improvement on last year’s washout. The likes of Chuckie, Eddie Halliwell and Otto Knows really brought the day to life with their indoor sets whereas Steve Angello got the crowd excited in the fresh air, with an intense display of pyrotechnics.

Paul Van Dyk gave the Cream stage an energetic set while everyone was wondering where David Guetta was (busy ticking chart-topping popstars off his collaboration list perhaps?) The screen displays finally told us he’d had flight delays, leaving a large amount of the crowd to go and try and get in on Tiesto’s set. While Guetta did eventually turn up, the evening was completely stolen by a Tiesto, who was on top form, the highlight of which being him playing some hardstyle, which was clearly welcomed by the crowd.

Sunday evening was interesting to say the least, with a few (I use the word few loosely) naked people walking around, while small parts of green camp were set on fire. To top the night off, a spontaneous rave occurred at the burger shack, which carried on until 5 in the morning (where all else fails, DIY raves never do). Note for next year – Find more burger shack raves. They’re awesome.

So as Monday morning (stroke afternoon) approached - does anyone remember what happened post burger shack rave? No, didn't think so - herds of inebriated, though impressively sun kissed bodies piled up at the festival gates, all aching to get back home (or in my case...just aching). The designated coaches finished off the festival feeling belting out tunes from the weekends best artists, whilst passengers sunk into their seats, partied-out, though gloriously satisfied. I want to say that Creamfields 2013 was a festival to remember, but everyone knows that the better it is, the less you recall; one thing's for sure, for those poor souls that had to endure all that pop-tart madness of other festivals that weekend (that we shall not name), Creamfields was definitely the cream of the crop, but then again, you wouldn't remember that now would you?

Words by Levi Lewis-Olding/Taylor Parris