Weekend sojourns have changed with the arrival of kids and, with a spirit of semi-adventure, we decided to elicit them on their maiden festival voyage this Summer at the all new Meraki festival in St Albans. Despite knowing many advocates of the camping ‘experience’, It is a whole shedload of hassle for the family project manager (i.e. me). In the 2 months pre-Meraki, I sourced torches, wood stoves, firelighters, a camping knife, water carriers, sleeping bags, blow up mattresses, sporks and all manner of sundry in which to ensure avoidance of a last-minute half day round trip to the Redbourn Nisa.

With expenditure now outweighing what it would cost for a family of 4 to stay in at least a 4* hotel for a weekend, I was lumbered with attempting to erect a Halfords tent on my own. Although happy with the tent per se, wish I had heeded the minimum 2-person assembly guidelines. Less than helpful were the coloured poles with the instructions being in black and white.

With the sleeping quarters erected and mattresses blown up the night before the festival commenced, I arrived home to be informed by my wife that ‘fires’ and ‘knives’ were forbidden. Hastily re-arranging my packing, we arrived at the dampsite the following morning and bedded in.

The festival billed as ‘bringing festival magic to St Albans’ was in its inaugural year. Sparsely populated, many of the advertised activities were non-existent or ill thought out. The maze was a few lines of plastic ‘hedge’, the man-made beach was a sandpit with a Wickes underlay. Big enough to hold 400 bags of sand, the sand filler-upper must have left a ‘0’ off the order. The cinema held about 20 people and there was no comedy zone.

Peculiarly the nice thing about it was the space. There were few queues for anything besides the glitter face paint or massages. Bairns could run around without hordes of inebriated lads on a beano and my kids loved it. A highlight was the Flying Seagull Children’s Entertainment project who were excellent as were the ‘Electric umbrella’. They are a theatre group who run shows totalling 10 minutes which is the optimum time for any show in my opinion.

Trying to sleep on a slight downward slope 50 yards from the M1 is never a joy. I found it helpful to close your eyes, as you attempt not to roll into your camping compatriot, as you imagine the incessant hum is waves on a beach. Waking up after being freezing cold all night, sweating, with your face stuck to the flysheet and finding your left knee fused to the open jam pot is not out of the Ray Mears survival book.

The showers provided entertainment. Firstly, how long the push button water lasts (10 seconds) coupled with the ‘guess the bodily fluid’ game as you stand starkers with a foreign object stuck to your foot as you vocally curse the camping experience.

The kids didn’t much care for the music. Tony Hadley was good, Jason Donovan not so and Sophie Ellis Bextor in a sparkly gold cat suit was a joy to behold for the gentlemen who were not there for musical gratification.

My wife totalled it as an 8/10, my kids as 10 and 9, and me, as ‘Grumpy dad’: a ‘6’. Plenty more work for the Meraki organisers prior to round 2 in 2018 methinks, but there was something about being at a festival so close to home that made the event appealing and we may well return for round 2 to witness Bextors ‘Modder on the Doncefloor’, hopefully minus the catsuit….