Revellers in a rare moment of sun earlier today. (Note ominous skies behind...) Photograph: Dan Martin
Glastonbury not muddy enough for you this year? Then you'll be wishing you'd joined us here at Bestival, which has been doing its best to resemble a first world war battlefield since opening its doors this morning. Of course, Guardian/music isn't scared of the elements. In fact, if we don't suffer at least one medieval disease during a music weekender then we don't consider it a proper festival. Which is why we've sailed across the sea in order to blog while trying not to get rain on our cameras.
On the way down we were warned by every shop attendant from Slough to Southampton that the place was sinking, and we should turn back. But we reckon Bestival party-goers can turn even the grimmest situations into a gigantic rave.
On Monday we'll have some lovely reviews and interviews for you - but before then we'll be wading around the site bringing you blog-sized updates.
As I type, Pendulum are demolishing the main stage. The way they're making a field full of rain-sodden people dance like loons is seriously questioning my inbuilt belief that metal/drum'n'bass crossovers can only ever be utterly shite. Fair play to them. Next up, My Bloody Valentine and time for a bit of shoe-gazing. Sorry, make that welly-gazing.
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