We’re open! Half an hour late but after sweating for six days to get the bloomin place ready in time it’s quite a relief. At this point I’m sure I should feel ecstatic but I actually feel a bit sick and tired. Could have been the sausage sandwich I ate for brekky. Being vegetarian it didn’t go down too well. Ho hum. It’ll pass after the third pint of sambucca…

Look - a piano!

continued...

We’re about to open the main music fields (the campsite opened at 9am) at midday and there’s a steady trickle of people queuing up to get in from the campsites but this was never gonna be a T In The Park with 80,000 banging the gates to get in and see some bands/drink some beer. In fact it's quite a mellow feel on the whole site – an above average number of crusties (although I bet they’re the type who wash their dreadlocks out on Mondays and go back to their jobs in the city) drifting about and loads of kids as expected (3500 at the latest count!)

We sent our man off to meet Chuck Berry and his entourage at the airport and he’s got a bloody puncture so he’d best get it changed quick and not leave old Chucky waiting in Pret A Manger at Gatwick. So far Chuck's manager has changed his hotel plans approximately 15 times so we still have very expensive suites on hold that he may just blow out in the end. It’s all good fun though.

I’m looking forward to seeing Miss Odd Kidd, Cocknbullkid, my teenage rock n roll kids Kitty, Daisy and Lewis and my favourite DJ Andrew Weatherall playing a rock n roll set on the main stage before Mr Berry duck walks down the red carpet.

Right I’m off for a yogic massage and an ayurvedic sherry …if such things exist. If not I’m gonna settle for a Winehouse – a new cocktail I’ve concocted for my wife’s Bollyood Bar – every spirit known to man topped off with a splash of vino tinto! That’s how you get to look like Amy so don’t blame me when your hair beehives overnight.

See ya later!