Tee-hee in the Park; Don't think muddy Balado when it comes to making

0 Comments | Sunday Herald, The, Jul 7, 2002 | by Words Stephen Phelan

T in the Park is no place for the comfortable. Maybe you're rich, and you can afford all your whims - your castle boasts a flamingo oasis, a personal marshmallow chef, a fleet of zeppelins, and a private army of dwarves. Or maybe you've just reached the age of good sense, where a love of loud music doesn't necessarily preclude a preference for nice meals, clean sheets, and dry feet. Either way, this festival doesn't really cater for you. Money may allow for freedom of movement, but there are some places the well-off will never really feel welcome. Think of the scene in Live And Let Die, when Roger Moore's dandy James Bond ponces into a back alley bar in Harlem ("Take this honky outside and waste him!").

In theory, of course, music belongs to everyone (although the record labels say different) and festivals are a free-for-all (not counting the price of the ticket). In practice, these events are for the crowds, the kids, the unwashed. The wealthy aren't invited, since T in the Park is a temporarily classless society, and nobody wants it thrown out of whack by a bunch of elegant slummers. As Jarvis Cocker observed of such trendy pretenders "you'll never live like common people, you'll never do whatever common people do".

And even many of the common people are often less than keen. A ticket to T in the Park implicitly waives your right to almost every form of comfort, security and convenience that the modern age takes for granted. The site looks, sounds, and smells like an air raid over an open sewer. At the very least, the well-heeled weekender can expect to get mud on their diamond shoes, mustard on their cravat, and their monocle stolen by weasel-faced Scottish urchins.

But maybe you don't care. Maybe your love for rock and/or roll is greater than your distaste for proletarian sweat and medieval toilet facilities. You want to bop to the carnal beat stylings of the Basement Jaxx, or perhaps even have a hypocritical mosh to the anti- establishment aggression of Primal Scream. To Balado, and hang the consequences!

Obviously, however, there are limits. We're not animals, after all, and there's no need to embrace squalor. For those with the means, surely there are ways to do T in the Park in style, or at least without completely regressing into barbarity? Indeed there are.

TRANSPORT You are The Americans, and everyone else is a Vietnamese villager - nothing says "I have arrived" with quite the same intimidating superiority and emphatic whirlygig drama as a helicopter. If you don't have your own, you can rent one from Attention To Detail (0131 478 7004).

And while most people now regard rolling up in a limo as a devalued cliche, it's difficult to care when you're inside one. Because while those people probably have to be cattled up to Kinross on the bus, you can be lounging on a backseat sofa in your underpants, watching videos and drinking champagne from the bottle. (Limos UK will take you to Balado and back for (pounds) 240, including champagne. Call 07002 546678.) ACCOMMODATION "The camping is half the fun," say the kids with forced grins as they hammer their leaking canvas bubbles into the swamp and huddle together to keep warm and ward off thieves. That's the kind of fun you need like a rare blood disorder. Instead, you could over-compensate with a couple of nights of excessive luxury at the mythical Gleneagles Hotel up the road in Auchterader (01764 662231).

Some world-class pampering should effectively erase the nightmare sights and abbatoir smells of an afternoon spent in the Slam tent. The nearby Green Hotel (Kinross, 01577 863467) is a little more modest, an independently owned country house with a couple of golf courses and a curling rink. But if you're resolved to rough it in the festival's shantytown of Buckfast bedouins, there's no need to settle for some ripped and dripping dome tent. Surely you'd be far happier in the Pathfinder 610 Deluxe from Pennine Leisure, a folding combination tent/caravan/mansion complete with toilet, electricity, living area and carpeting ((pounds) 8,145, www.outriggers- camping.co.uk).

CLOTHING You can reasonably expect only two possible types of weather over the T in the Park weekend - volatile or openly hostile. In the case of the former, a pair of Oakley's new Half-Jacket sunglasses ((pounds) 89) will be mighty handy - they've got interchangeable lenses that can adapt perfectly to Scotland's mood- swinging light conditions. In the more likely event of biblical rains, the discerning reveller will be togged up in the best of lightweight waterproofs that will keep them comfier than a rabbit in a dressing gown while still allowing for unrestricted crowd-surfing and stage-diving.

For men, there's the swish-looking Schoffel Ptarmigan shooting jacket ((pounds) 299) with its light but impermeable Goretex lining. It would look even cooler with your shotgun as an accessory, but alas, firearms aren't allowed at T in the Park (which is annoying since you'll never want or need one more).

For ladies, there's the flattering yet functional full length bridle mac from Mackintosh ((pounds) 269.95). And you'll also want a pair of Hunter wellington boots ((pounds) 49) - water-tight but fine for dancing. If it happens not to rain you can use them as flasks or something. These last items are all available at House of Bruar in Blair Atholl (01796 483236), rural Perthshire's only upmarket department store. It's got a whole hall devoted to cashmere items (and in the cooling evenings at T in the Park, you'll realise that only a jumper painstakingly harvested from the underbelly hair of reclusive Himalayan goats will do). And how your amigos will cheer when you return with fresh supplies of premium Scottish whiskies and cheeses!