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I love music. I love seeing bands live. I love discovering new bands.

I do not love mud and I do not love portaloos but I do love Wellies.

I am conflicted.

Despite and because of all of this the decision to go to Electric Picnic was an easy one. Enough good bands to keep my inner fan boy happy and enough good company to keep my inner grump at bay.

Friday began with a whimper as my sidekick (in truth I am hers) got trapped in work and we didn’t escape Dublin until almost 8 o’ clock. Finally with 28 cans of Dutch Gold in one hand, a bottle of gin and some toilet paper in the other we hit the road. While we didn’t manage to see any bands I did see some rather excellent episodes of Grand Designs and Come Dine With Me earlier in the day which left me feeling like I had come out ahead. The highlight of the day proved to be meeting some lovely folks by the toilets before inevitably losing them, never to see them again. Oh well, Phil, Greg and Johanna, we miss you.

Saturday began with a hangover, a condensation filled tent and my roommate complaining that she had spent the night sleeping on a mallet. The fact that she actually slept on the mallet impresses me more than I can I convey here. Having missed all the music on Friday we endeavoured to make up for it on Saturday by taking in the grand total of two bands.

First up was Low Anthem. They play the type of beautiful folk music that sends me weak at the knees and set a standard high enough that I didn’t really care that much about seeing anyone else for the rest of the day.

Next came Marina and the Diamonds. Great songs, great stage presence, great looking and talks about camel toe between her songs.

The remainder of the day was spent in the comedy tent. Undoubtedly the comedy highlight of the weekend was Dead Cat Bounce who play music that is both hilarious and horribly catchy. So catchy in fact that you find yourself singing their songs while trying to watch other bands the following day.

Sunday was the day to get serious. This was the day we were going to watch some music. Not even the first proper rain of the weekend would make us miss it. It did however make us late.

Blitzen Trapper gave us half an hour stuffed with songs from one of my favourite albums of last year and it proved the perfect start to the day with Furr and Black River Killer being particular highlights.

Next was J Tillman. Best known for being the drummer in Fleet Foxes he also has a couple of excellent solo albums and this performance on the tiny Body & Soul stage only served to highlight his individual talent.

Then to Okkervil River on the Crawdaddy stage. The performance was great but I found myself constantly distracted by how much lead singer Will Shef looks like my friend Sean’s head stuck onto Ryan Tubridy’s body.

Due to some earlier delay in the schedule Florence & the Machine took the stage about an hour late. The gathered crowd didn’t seem to mind though as the tension and expectation continued to build. She finally emerged looking like some kind of ginger siren, ready to lure the entire audience onto the rocks. In truth we would have gladly followed. She played the crowd completely and we ate it up. By the end of the set everyone around me seemed to be having either a religious experience or reaching orgasm. And then she was gone, leaving us sweaty and slightly dazed, wondering exactly what she had done to us for the last 40 minutes and had it been inappropriate.

Finally it was time for Fleet Foxes. Technical problems setting up seemed to throw the band off stride and it wasn’t until about half way through the set that White Winter Hymnal really picked things up. It didn’t matter though, fan boys like me (and there were quite a few) were always going to love it even if there was an over abundance of tweeny hipsters floating about claiming to know the band.

Although the festival was officially over, Monday morning presented its own unique challenges. Unpopping my pop up tent proved more taxing than my sleep deprived brain could handle while that last visit to the portaloos served only to remind us of the horrors that can exist in this world.

The final victory of the weekend came as we escaped the muddied car park unaided. While newer, more expensive and more powerful cars found themselves sinking fast with wheels spinning helplessly the proud Vera tore across that field with the ease of a car half her age. Hitting the road home with the sense of triumph that comes only from watching your betters fail and a weekend well spent.