Muddy but exuberant at Oxegen

THEY found every which way to get into Punchestown at the weekend.

Some were even caught scaling the fences around Oxegen, as thousands of music-lovers descended on the race-course to enjoy the most extravagant assembly of musical talent seen in this country.

While the Gods were unkind, particularly on Saturday, that did little to dampen the spirits of over 60,000 revellers who packed the venue over two days.

Since Oxegen was announced as a sell-out, there was a frenetic rush for tickets; pleading letters were even read out on radio shows.

And all this to get wet and muddy in a Kildare field for the weekend. It mightn't have quite been mud of Glastonbury proportions, but it was still damp enough to annoy even the most seasoned of festival-goers.

Great weekend, shame about the weather was the general consensus of those who made it to Punchestown. Not that the weather had that many people frowning. The music was too good for that.

Saturday was for the more discerning music-lover, with the talented, if fashionable, Scottish guitar band Franz Ferdinand igniting proceedings in the early afternoon with an excellent set.

Despite the dirty clouds, it set the tone for the weekend.

As the revellers encountered the typical festival experience of wading through lakes of earth, beer and unspeakable effluent they were entertained by the likes of PJ Harvey and Kings of Leon, complete with rock'n'roll attitude, on the main stage.

Away from the main stage is where the real action took place. Thousands of fans packed the Green Room to see Orbital's last Irish gig. The Hartnoll brothers' unique ambient genius was always appreciated on these shores, and they played a storming set to didn't let down their legions of fans.

As Orbital finished, there was a rush to the dance tent as Chemical Brothers were about to start. Those who had enough of dance settled down for The Cure, with Robert Smith living up to his reputation by producing the longest set of the festival. As things were winding down at one o'clock, Smith wondered why the plug was being pulled.

But by that stage, everyone had had enough.

Yesterday was another day, and although the line-up has looked decidedly weak since David Bowie developed problems with his ticker, there was still plenty for every taste.

Sixty thousand music lovers, and the many enterprising individuals who made it in without a ticket, hardly converged for the formulaic tunes of The Darkness, but Basement Jaxx were on hand to provide a carnival atmosphere.

And carnival it was. Gardaí reported little trouble, with only a few arrests for drug offences. Festival-goers could even turn themselves into walking billboards with plastic sheets hardly in the true festival, but nobody minded.