Isaac took these with his Fish Eye..
Aren’t they fab…
Tag Archives: Coachella
Los Angeles Monday 16.04.12 1
And so we packed up… The car was a complete shithole… Isaac emptied it and I tried to sort our stuff into some semblance of order. We dumped the tights… Those useless excuses for sleeping bags. Discovered my magnifying mirror (yes… I did take it with me, completely blind as I am these days…) had melted a long brown scar into the beige leather of the driver’s seat… Oops! Cleared out a bin bag worth of beer and rosé bottles, warm fanta, crisp packets, half eaten burritos and paninis, musty flannels, damp towels, underwear, worn socks, empty fag packets, fag butts, bottle tops etc etc. Discovered we’d left the seat warmers on all night and the battery was dead. Oops again. Asked around and plenty others were in the same boat. A wise group had brought along some jump leads and gradually everyone got going again, as in a chain of goodwill, the ones who’d just been helped, gave a hand to the next.
We said goodbye to our gorgeous, lovely, friendly neighbours, promising to keep in touch – when Facebook actually comes into its own – and we hit the road.
Stopped off for a spot of brunch. We attempted to find a diner and took the slip road into the desert, coming across a diner of sorts, but a closer look told us we’d wandered into a set of True Blood. Terrifying. Isaac promptly suggesting we try American fast food instead and I agreed so we plumped for Burger King – safer possibly, but as horrible as in the UK! only bigger. It tasted OK and felt OK for a while, but later gave us both frightful indigestion. Hey ho… Back on the road and Isaac entertained us with entirely fitting American 60′s and 70′s tracks from Mamas and Papas, Canned Heat, The Doors, Velvet Underground, Neil Young, Talking Heads through to Grouplove. Lovely. And Yay! We were back in LA in no time.
Arriving back at The Standard Downtown, I attempted to climb out of the white-beast-of-bling and realised I’d stiffened up so much I could barely walk. Isaac said he was stiff too, but I know I was stiffer… Sleeping on a blow up bed in the back of a car and standing in a field for four days plays havoc with a fifty year old body… That if nothing else I can vouch for… I was in dire need of a chiropractor…
So it was with heavenly relief that on checking in to the gorgeous Standard the lovely receptionist told us they’d upgraded us to the Penthouse Suite… Free of charge! How utterly heavenly! We couldn’t believe our luck and I shall always be eternally grateful. I liked this hotel before but now I LOVE it! They’d remembered us from earlier and thought we may appreciate the pampering. How right they were.
Goodbye to wrist band, festival hat, shades, grimy feet… Hello to fluffy towels, a bath as big as my dining room table, endless hot water, bubbles and wine…
Our sitting room…
Our bedroom… With its own walk in wardrobe…
Our bathroom, which also had a wet room with two showers and two loos!
Feeling a lot more human and smelling much sweeter, we treated ourselves to a well deserved drink in the roof top bar…
Little and large. So LA. She was fascinating… I stood next to her at the bar and she was about 6’4″ in her heels, the guy a diminutive 5’2″. Such a weird coupling. I sneaked these shots pretending to take the view…
Darkness fell.
We ate in the hotel, too dazed and tired to venture further afield. Enjoyed a lovely little gem and blue cheese salad to start – I so needed some greens – four days eating festival food and I felt like I was about to get scurvy. Another wonderful steak too.
Later sat chilling, smoking and supping wine round the fire pit while a rock band played in the hotel reception. Nice. Life is good.
Slept like the dead. Snored like a pig. Didn’t care a jot! (sorry Isaac) 
Coachella! Sunday 15.04.12
Sunday Running Order…
Another glorious day… By far the hottest yet. The car was an oven and man… were we cooking! I went to sleep last night in my black sheepskin gilet on top of a vest, a t shirt, a cashmere jumper, leggings and PJ bottoms and i woke up to long wooly strands of sheep plastered to my cheek and neck. Nice. No doubt about it, I needed another shower. I couldn’t face the freezing drips so went for the ‘posh showers’ at $10 a drench. Worth every cent… Waited in the shade, coffee and water offered, our own private cubicle and dressing area with bath mat, which although squidgy soggy, was still better than the dust and hair encrusted shower trays of yesterday. And the water was hot. Back in the waiting tent I availed myself of the hair dryer and mirror and finally stepped out feeling quite fresh and relatively well groomed.
Everyone’s favourite quote of the week yelled to us… ‘OMG… help me… I’m turning into a giant fishing rod!’ And a young chap fell into our midst completely off his head, spinning and crashing into people, chairs and tents, getting himself caught up in nylon and string, imagining he was stuck under the wing mirror of a car, chucking at us a tiny brightly coloured plastic toy fishing rod with an orange crab hooked onto it before he hurtled off through the campsite like a whirling dervish. He was terrified, poor bugger… An acid trip gone wrong and a real advert for why not to…? Someone help that crazy…
A good strong coffee and another burrito for breakfast from a different stall, which was really good and so full of spicy jalapeños our mouths were now fully awake too.
We wandered in for Metronomy with our Australian friends, suffering again the lengthy queues. My favourite quote of the week shouted to me by a complete stranger… ‘I’m Olly and I’m in route 101 and I like MILFS!’ Made me laugh anyway.
Watched Metronomy, the last half at least, who were great. Love those guys.
People watched again while eating more garlic crab fries and listening to Santigold… One cool woman!
Met up with the crew…
Took in another amazing sunset…
What a pair…
Listened to Gotye from the back of the crowd as the sun sidled behind the mountains.
Watched Beirut from near the front, who were my faves of the weekend after Radiohead. Such brilliant and beautiful music produced from two trumpets, a trombone, drums, an accordion, a double bass, a ukelele and amazing vocal harmonies. I learned they are from Mexico, which I never knew, but made perfect sense. Their wonderful folky tunes always reminded me of Eastern European gypsies, but as soon as they mentioned they were Mexican, it all fell into place.
Took in DJ Shadow. amazing set and lights and moving pictures. Truly spectacular. Really liked this set.
And finally, Snoop Dog and Dr Dre. We got high on the weed filled air as we watched the coming together of some of the most famous names in hip-hop. Among others, Tupak back from the dead, 50 cent, and my highlight… Eminem! Amazing show.
Slow stroll back to the tent along with a hundred thousand other bods and our last night, drinking tea, smoking and chilling with the crew. It’s been amazing and wild and fun and now I’m looking forward to a proper sleep in a proper bed… Hey… Give me a break… The old crow’s not done too bad!
Coachella! Saturday 14.04.12
The morn dawned bright…
Today’s running order…
We woke at I don’t know what time and I wasn’t quite sure how I felt… Certainly very hot, as the sun beat down relentlessly on the two tonnes of white metal that was our bedroom. Tea was required and Isaac did the early morning shift today. V grateful! I sat in the sun for a while just allowing the day to creep in to me, supping and smoking and chatting. We ate a burrito for breakfast – eggs, ripped pork and jalapeños. Slightly odd, but quite restorative. I decided to brave the showers. Only the young and beautiful can get away with being dirty, and being neither, I knew I could put off my ablutions no longer. Queued for twenty minutes and showered in a dripping flow of freezing water. It woke me up for sure. Enjoyed the company of our friends and just chilled for a while. All rather lovely. Discussed what we wanted to do and who we wanted to see today. Nice. Just nice. So nice.
The lovely Allie… Beautiful, self possessed and so effortlessly cool.
She who, like my darling Gaby, could make me wish I’d had a daughter…
So… What did we get up to? We were going to make the effort for Azealia Banks, but we didn’t. We were going to make the effort for the Buzzcocks, but we didn’t. We ended up listening to the Kaiser Chiefs from the fenced confines of the beer garden, which was fun, while we did a spot more people watching. We caught the beginning of Mr Galagher too. Ate more scrummy garlic fries. Talked of life and love and music. What more is there?
Wandered back to our tent to dress warm for the evening and basked in the wonderful California light… And the sunset…
Made it back in for Kasabian and Flying Lotus… Met some interesting peeps in the queue for the loo…
Watched Bon Iver. Beautiful.
I wanted to down load a vid but the internet is just too fucking slow… LATERS… Think I’ve cracked it now…
And then Radiohead. Prime position. Right in the thick of it. Amazing. All I expected it to be. Incredible light show. Every song a different colour. My faves… 15 step. Morning Mr Magpie. Pyramid Song. Myxomatosis. Karma Police. Identikit. Lotus Flower. Final encore… Idioteque… I cried. Isaac nearly fainted. We survived… and stayed for all three encores. One of the best gigs ever. Worth the journey. Worth a lot.
Coachella! Friday 13.04.12
Friday Running Order:
After a freezing night and the realisation that the sleeping bags we’d brought with us were not as warm as a pair of ten denier tights we woke up to sun and laughter and music and breakfast smells…
Our neighbours, we soon discovered, were a really lovely bunch offering to share their beer, water, food, company and anything else you could think of. I was glad to meet up with some young folks as I secretly harboured a fear that Isaac would regret coming all the way to America for Coachella with his mother and find me a rather boring festival buddy. I also worried that people would think it rather odd that he’d got to put up with me and he’d be embarrassed by me, so I was pleasantly surprised to find that everyone seemed to think it cool and dandy and they all said they wished their Mums would do such a thing with them. They were probably just being nice, but even the receptionists at The Standard were fascinated and wished us have a great time…
I’d found a great tea and coffee stall last night so I headed off there as soon as we woke. We all sat drinking and chatting and smoking in the sun in our PJ’s feeling very chilled. We explored a little and bought towels (yes… Another thing I forgot) and flip flops for Isaac and discovered where the showers were but decided to avoid them for the moment due to the lengthy queue. Baby wipes are great and make you smell nice too! By the time we’d got our act together and were ready to have breakfast it was about 12 pm and we ended up eating a ginormous and delicious sandwich and I started on the warm rosé… Isaac enjoyed some cool beers courtesy of our new friends…
Kiana, Olley, Kerry, Jimmy, Allie, Vicky, Sam, Zak, me, Kevin, Isaac, Alex… and forgive me if I’ve spelled anyone’s name incorrectly…
We headed into the arena around two intending to watch Grouplove at 5. The queues were huge and it took us an age to get in – tight security and bag checks etc and not enough gates open. It was sunny and warm though so we weren’t too bothered. Isaac had to wait in the boys line and me in the girls but we both got chatting to peeps and finally we were in. The site is beautiful… A huge circular lush green plain surrounded by palm trees and behind them 360 degrees of mountains, many snowcapped. We really felt like a drink but discovered extra tight security inside the arena. The drinking age in California is 21, no matter that the vast majority of peeps are off their heads with weed and other chemicals. The bars were all manned by security and you had to take your ID to a check point to receive a wrist band. I waited in another line and got quite shirty when my ID was asked for – I’m 51 for God’s sake – my retort and eventually they agreed to let me have a wrist band without returning all the way back to the camp site for my passport! The Californian air would have been blue with very English sounding expletives If they’d not agreed.
I entered the beer garden, which was very lovely and civilised by the way, and purchased a large white wine spritzer only to find I had to consume it inside the fenced confines. I could see Isaac waiting patiently on the other side of the fence so I downed it and decided we needed a plan… He needed to see this…
Plan was, I went to the loo and painstakingly unstuck my wrist band which took about 15 minutes due to it being feathered so when you unpeeled it you had to individually unstick about 30 tiny triangles. But I managed it and snuck it out to Isaac, who then went to the loo to stick it round his own wrist. I then joined another line and had to go through the same rigmarole – I’m 51 for God’s sake – to get another wrist band… But finally we were in business!
We were so relieved to be there we just sat and people-watched for hours. Ate the best chips ever – duck fat garlic fries with fresh crab and aioli – scrummy and drank several extremely expensive white wines and beers.
Grouplove were amazing. Isaac hadn’t seen them before so it was great for him. I saw them on a tiny stage at Latitude last year and I enjoyed them even more this time in the sun on their home turf. Bought their new CD.
Went for a wander and found the H&M Fashion Against AIDS tent which looks like an orgy, but was in fact just peeps resting on water beds… And had our photo taken in the special booth
Caught The Arctic Monkeys after that and had a few more beers and then… It became very dark and grey and cloudy and began to rain. Isaac, sporting only shorts, vest and flip flops was shivering timbers so we returned to the campsite to change into warmer gear. I’d come prepared with cashmere and leggings and boots – I’d heard the desert nights could get chilly – and we met up with our neighbours who were also changing. First time in 14 years it had rained at Coachella. Mmm. Say no more. Once warm we didn’t care and we headed back with the crew. Shorter queues this time and happy times were had by all helped along by Allie’s special happy vibes.
Watched M Ward, Rapture, M83 and it was all fab and I can remember bugger all. Missed Pulp, Mazzie Star and The Black Keys, but it was still definitely fab! That I know…
Ended the night drinking tea under shooting stars watching the craziest show in the world.
Lucent Dossier… On the Do laB stage. They are a crazy kind of circus troupe. Dancs. Gymnasts. Musicians. Trapeze artists. Amazing. The bass was so loud it hurt my throat. I have no photos as I forgot to take my camera in, but here’s a couple of photos from the LA times and a video link.
Got back to the car about 2am, warmed up courtesy of the white-beast-of-bling’s seat warmers, kept all our clothes on and slept like babies.
Pre-Coachella Thursday 12.04.12
Slept well, got up, bright and early, sunny day.
Humungous breakfast – for me Tree-hugger poached eggs… potatoes, green beans, spinach, red peppers, wild mushrooms, onions and eggs,
For Isaac – Downtown Eggs Benedict… potatoes, tomatoes, bacon, hollandaise, muffin and eggs.
Set us up for the day nicely, thank you.
Took a trip out to The Malibu Lumber Yard, in Malibu, along the lovely coast road, for a spot of shopping. We’d been in the car all of ten minutes,
‘Woops Mum…’ Isaac said, ‘Think I may have got us into a spot of bother…’ And then I heard the police sirens…
‘What did you do?’ I said, pulling the white-beast-of-bling onto the hard shoulder…
‘Threw a fag butt out the window…?’
‘Oh…’
I need to add, right here that, on allowing us to rent the car with only a scanned copy of my license, the nice Mr Avis said to us,
‘By law, you should have your driving documents with you at all times in the state of California, so keep your nose clean…’ Woops indeed…
Five minutes of grovelling apologies, slapped wrists and the warning – you may be allowed to litter your own streets back home, but here in California, it’s not acceptable – and we were on our way again.
‘Ha… That was exciting…’ Isaac said. I said nothing…
Arrived in Malibu Lumber Yard, a lovely chi-chi shopping mall built from reclaimed lumber and railway sleepers, full of to-die-for-stuff and we mooched around for a couple of hours. I bought some t-shirts, a pair of neon pink sandals and a Coachella-perfect pink straw hat and Isaac bought a Sweat-top, all from the uber-cool Kitson.
Headed back into LA, stopping for a beach walk under the dazzling light and clear blue California sky. (We had to get our feet wet in the Pacific. FFFreezing.)
Then on toThe Grove Farmer’s Market, another lovely, slightly more mainstream shopping mall. Bought some more of my fave boyfriend jeans in a dark wash from Lucky Brand and Isaac bought shades. Ate in the farmer’s market, in the sun, from a New-Orleans stall –Shrimp Gumbo and salad. Yum.
And finally, very excited, off to Coachella!!! First stop, wine and beer, essential festival supplies… We managed to locate the dodgiest Liquor Store on the West coast. I emerged into the sunlight from the depths of the dingy interior clutching my several heavy black bin-bags to find Isaac feeding cigarettes through the sunroof to a cartoon-perfect hobo who left us his calling card… ‘Investment fund manager’ and I kid you not… We made a fairly hasty getaway and hit the road. The Sat-nav (or Don’t-get-lost as it’s called here…) told us two hours. It took about four, mainly due to the heavy traffic heading out of LA, but it was a wonderful drive through stunning scenery up through the mountains and down into the desert.
Just Wow!
Coachella is a desert valley beyond Palm Springs, nearest town, Indio. The contrast between the wild and arrid scrub-land surrounding the freeway and the lush green of the tropical gardens and the manicured suburban streets is amazing. A true Oasis. We collected our tickets from the box office which we managed to find surprisingly easily and arrived at the car camping site around 6pm. We’d been amazed up till now how queueless it had all been, but things changed as we entered the holding field, along with a hundred thousand other punters. We turned up the sounds, broke into our bin-bagged supplies and drank warm Californian Rose from a Starbucks thermos cup becoming more and more chilled as we inched nearer and nearer to the entrance and the sun set on Coachella.
We parked up around 9pm, unhooked the seats from the back of the white-beast-of-bling, blew up our bed (which fitted perfectly, phew!) drank some more beers and wine and ate our first chilli-dog, which was as gross as it sounds (but we didn’t care,) We met our neighbours, a lovely bunch of young Aussies and Americans, lent out our cigarette-lighter-powered-bed-blower-upper and fell asleep, knackered, just this side of mid-night.
