Bjork does her own thing on the final day of Bestival

After the glorious highlights of the previous night, it was nice to have a more relaxed day on Sunday, without the build up of excitement I experienced the night before waiting for The Cure, certainly Bjork proved less of a draw for me, but I'd decided to watch her performance with an open mind, and see if it would grab me. It didn't, but more of that later.

During the night someone had erected a flag near us, and its flapping I'd mistaken for rain, so discovering the sun shining when I emerged from under my pillow was a surprise. Funds were running low, the more costly food prices, (for instance an extra pound for one of Asian Grub Foundation's lovely samosas, and the £4 for an ale prices meant I had little money, so I decided to blow what I had on a slap up carvery at a nearby pub and enjoy views of the festival whilst the mountain of tasty food settled missing the stage openers the English National Ballet, just as I had Mr. Motivator the day before.

I feel I've missed something special when I return just as Kelis is wrapping up on the main stage with 'Acapella" the whole crowd are rapt with arms in the air and the whole field in motion.

The crowd evaporate for Big Audio Dynamite who come out all guns blazing. Mick Jones is on great form and with the boys he delivers a faultless set which includes 'Medicine Show ', 'BAD', 'Rob Peter Pay Paul, 'C'Mon Every Beatbox', 'Rewind ', 'The Bottom Line', and 'E=MC2'. Mick jokes that he can see the crowd for Noah and the Whale from where he is on stage, and cues a host of young confused people realising they have missed them and run off to join the huge crowd which spills across the field outside the Big Top. It's a shame more people weren't at the main stage to see what could well be their last ever live set.

Rather than watch The Maccabees with the throng I elect to see ex-The Czars frontman American John Grant and his accompanying pianist, without any members of Midlake in sight. Grant's aching tender baritone vocals are quite at odds with the man mountain who commands the stage. A small but appreciative crowd enjoys most of last year's debut 'Queen Of Denmark' including 'Sigourney Weaver', 'I Wanna Go To Marz', and 'Chicken Bones'.

I didn't think that diminutive Norwegian Electronic songstress Robyn would appeal, but a large crowd, and her own energetic performance transmuted her set into an upbeat show. The crowd loved it and were up for a party now that the rain looked unlikely to hit, it felt like a headline set, and in fact as night fell, the place appeared to be warmer than most of the day.

A delayed Macka B & the Roots Ragga Band set gave us a chance to exercise our weary legs with some upbeat reggae, before Bjork brought her 'Biophilia' project to the main stage.

Dressed like a manic shark finned clown (did she not get the memo about the last time Bestival tried a clown theme?) and backed by an Icelandic choir, she delivered the set without appearing on the big screens. Although they occasionally sparked into life to show what appeared to be the zoom out function on Google Maps in satellite mode, or some footage from her introducer - Sir David Attenborough's many documentaries. A headline act without the connection of big screens all the time often doesn't work (just ask Bob Dylan) and much of the audience at the back dissolved after only a few numbers. The most exhilarating moment of the set comes when a burning Chinese Lantern narrowly misses Bjork and instead falls feet from her.

The set did nothing for me, I had no connection to the music she delivered, and I waited for her hits to no avail. There were some audience members on the barrier in tears though, so clearly it was emotive for some, either that or they wanted to escape desperately but had no energy left. At one point even Bjork apologised saying the music was not really designed to be aired at a festival. It was certainly a unique show.

The firework extravaganza bought the weekend to a close for us, and we got back to the van just as the rain returned, there was no delay in getting back to the ferry terminal, and we felt like we'd been at a week long event, our faces tingling, ruddy and pinched from the elements. We didn't get the chance to enjoy Subgiant, or Fatboy Slim play a rammed tent, that was the finale for many. But, on the plus side, at least we missed the horizontal rain and tent tearing gales of the next day.

Bestival is on the whole a terrific festival, one that a lot of other festivals can learn from. Although the template can also be seen at other events like Shambala, Big Chill and of course the original Glastonbury.

The sprawling size means you have to put in some effort to get around, but it's rarely jam packed crowded, although this does depend hugely what age you are. For the older generation, I guess I qualify for that now, there's a wealth of heritage acts that attract a smaller crowd, and for the youngsters packed tents and big hitters, with the occasional overlap in between.

Generally everyone seemed friendly, but there did seem to be a bit of a them and us attitude prevalent amongst the 'beautiful people' at times, as well as the occasional nasty piece of work causing a nuisance. I would love a banning of those prats that think it's cool to play 'skittles' with the crowds on muddy slopes by running into them. But with the scale of the audience, and being the type of festival that attracts all comers I guess that it was bound to. Security was low key and apart from the first and last day searches I wasn't aware of them making themselves obvious on site most of the time.

My main gripe is the access route through the middle of the site. Spangled people, massed night crowds, a one way system, and some Oxfam Stewards with their arms out does not mix that well. The number of times it happened resulted in me stopping and looking left and right every time I left the safety of a crowd on the move. surely some form of vehicle curfew, or some better access planning could be put in place here. The number of times it was one person in a buggy made it all the more annoying.

Another complaint is the badly marked water points that appeared to vanish on Sunday. Fine if they cause flooding remove them, but it's not too much to ask for a sign telling you where the next nearest one now is. Despite it not being hot on Sunday, all that walking meant a good chance of dehydration, and nowhere to get a free thirst slaker was irksome.

The heavy handed searches on Thursday from an under pressure security who were clearly going to stamp their authority on the first night. This resulted in me losing my tankard, resulting in two of those pathetic flimsy plastic glasses spilling two of my expensive pints of ale on the uneven ground.

Lastly the price of a programme was a bit steep at £8, I'd love a cheaper laminated 'clashfinder' type option to be also available with all the stages listed on one page for each day, the lanyards were impossible to use accurately later in the day/evening. The programme was a good read, and informative but mine got pretty dog eared as I tried to work out where to go next. At that price i like to have a memento in good knick.

However on the upside I loved the site, it's look and feel, particularly the more off the wall venues that were less obvious than a tent in a field, and was delighted to find a 'hidden' bar offering ale and proper scrumpy at £3 a pint, if only the rest of the bars had offered the same.

The festival does involve a lot of walking about, is hilly, and might have proved difficult for those with mobility, but there was copious amounts of seating with good aural vantage points, and good views where you could take a breather.

Musically it will go down in my festival mythos as playing host to that awesome two and a half hour set by The Cure, with an on form PJ Harvey as support, the highlight of my festival year by quite some way. There were some other bands that played over the weekend (in fact a great weekend of varied programming) , but for me they paled into insignificance beside the monumental 32-song set form Saturday's headliners.

Thanks to organiser Mr Da Bank, and his band of helpers, those that got the site looking so pretty, those that looked after us, the bar staff, the caterers, the bands, and the people behind the scenes for putting together such a weekend of treats, in a well run, well set out, well lit environment.

What a weekend, and I do rather like the fact you have to take a ferry to get there, it adds something to the otherworldly experience. With no Glastonbury Festival next year, and Bestival probably the next best thing, expect tickets to sell rapidly next year. What a great way to end our outdoor festival season. Bestival may have grown since our last visit, but the magic is still there.

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