Woodford, Day 0.5

It's raining.

Did you really expect me to write anything different?

We're set up in a beautiful gully with a whole other bunch of musos and PeggyHiss, our 7 foot python. The water is literally streaming from the sky. The mountains are wreathed with ever-shifting mist and the valley is thick, green and dripping. At night, it sounds like a jungle, like something out of Avatar (minus the poisonous air and blue people, though this is Woodford, so the blue people are most likely here somewhere). At the moment I love it, but that may change once I work my way through the 10 T-shirts and 10 pairs of socks. Wellies are my best friend at the moment.

It's great getting here early. One gets to settle in before the mayhem and madness. We've already done our poster runs with Cloudstreet, so there's not a toilet wall or tent post that isn't papered.

The only downside to the rain for me is that my fingers are perpetually soggy, and my guitar callouses have literally fallen off. It's going to be fun playing later on. Might have to resort to the old superglue trick if they stay soft like this.

So, tonight we have the secret Troubadour gig. Andrew Claremont, Cloudstreet, Penelope Swales, Ange Takats, Kristina Olsen, Never the Twain... It's a great line up. Wine, Water and Merry!

And the gigs are lining up nicely! Sarah is playing with the Fruit Tingles (so far) and I've been asked to guest in the show, 'Game On', with Martin Pearson, Fiona Scott Norman, John Thompson, and hosted by the erudite Sandy McCutcheon (he told me to say that). I think I'm out of my depth...

Paul, reporting from Moistford.

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