Last time I went to Portmeirion was on a family holiday when I was 7. We stayed in “The Village” [setting of the cult 70s show The Prisoner] and my Dad amused /embarrassed the family all weekend by jumping around quoting lines from the series, thinking he was Patrick Mc Gowan. I also remember a place filled with charm and the topsy turvy layout of its colourful Mediterranean-style houses. My Dad didn’t come along on this visit, but apart from that, not much had changed.
Three hours after leaving Manchester and a long journey through north Wales and Snowdonia that took us up and down hills and along winding country roads, we arrived. By this time it was dark, so entering the festival site, with its dense trees, a rumble of music and a few dots of light, was like stumbling upon a mystical forest.
Putting up a tent in the dark was the largest challenge of the weekend in this very well organised festival. Transfer from park and ride to site was seamless as was the short trek to the camp site on arrival. Soon we were in our new home for the weekend drinking vodka and cloudy lemonade and sticking sparkly gems on our faces.
The main festival site is about a 10 minute walk from the camp site. After weeks of anticipation, Friday night had arrived and the dance tent was at the forefront of my mind: repetitive electronic beats, bright lights and a busy dance floor. I was ready to rave!
Before fully immersing ourselves into dance floor dedication, we embarked on an obligatory mini bar crawl around the main arena to add even more merriment to our already very merry feelings.
We swung into the Grand Marnier hut and grabbed a Grand Marnier and ginger, which was served in a rather delightful red bauble shaped glass with a red LED ice cube. We danced around to party starter tracks: Born Slippy by Underworld and Needin’ You by David Morales. Red beads and aviator sunglasses were handed out to us on silver serving dishes by bar tenders who suddenly joined us on the dance floor, gyrating around on the wooden beamed floor wearing tight white shirts with red ties. Festival Number 6 was getting better by the second. When we finally wobbled out of the Grand Marnier bar, we looked a little like Hawaiian gangsters.
Next stop was the VIP area. White sofas dotted around under a white canopy and decent toilets in portable huts with wood effect interiors, mirrors and sinks. I was beginning to feel more and more at home here every minute.
After wearing out the dance floor in the VIP area, it was over to the Studio 6 tent, where the Content DJ duo was warming up the room nicely with some delicious, whirling tech house. As the crowd got thicker, cheers and hands rose up in between each track and the air began to feel more and more electric.
At 11pm Andrew Weatherall appeared at the helm of the decks, looking like a fantasy character from the Hobbit with his long, two pronged thick beard. This truly legendary musical maestro soon set the room alive with a set of warm, infectiously deep techno. It felt like time stood still in there. It really was some of the best music I have heard in a long, long time. It was almost as if the music enveloped us all and posted us off to a far-away place.
In true first night festival fashion I’d left my programme in the tent, which will hopefully excuse me from my largest faux pas of the weekend. When someone eventually told us Frankie Knuckles was already DJing in the Late Night Pavilion and was about to finish, we posted ourselves back to planet earth and made a short, sharp trek across the field to watch yet another seminal composer of electronica work his magic.
And Frankie was a sight to behold. The crowd were buoyant, in a rhythmic Chicago house medley of house music, grins and cheers. Before I knew it I was at the front of the crowd smiling like a loon at one of the biggest legends in house music. An amazing end to an amazing evening!
The next morning, the sun came out to play. A short stroll down to the pretty village of Portmeirion accompanied by a breathtaking view of Cardigan Bay, nestled at the bottom of the welsh hills. This was a truly beautiful sight capable of alleviating any hangover.
The rest of the weekend was equally fantastical and included exploring the woods and finding secret discos and visiting numerous bars, cafes and enjoying an abundance of nice toilets too! Also included was a fantastic performance from Nile Rogers and Chic on Stage Number 6, the welsh male voice choir belting out New Order in the Central Plaza gardens in the village and a superb final disco set from Low Life in the Belvedere Castle Gardens.
Festival number 6 is an uber-chilled event with a naughty edge for grown up kids. A total must.
Words: Anna Wharton
