With a full weekend of DJs, percussionists and MCs, the people come and go - but the party rolls on without a break. New rave may be taking off in other parts, but you wouldn’t know it in the Bacardi tent. There is neither sight nor sound of a guitar, but the bongos are out in full force.
The Latino party vibe spread out under brightly coloured canopies is aided by the percussive beats that get everyone in the party mood. Girls float around in bikini neon tops and hot pants so that the Bacardi tent feels like a little corner of Ibiza rather than grey, drizzly Essex.
As the day moves on, the beat gets heavier, the music becomes louder and the tent hotter. The room is a writhing mass of sweaty bodies lost to the music. An army of posers wearing shades appear, and the customary ‘comedy’ inflatables are thrown around.
A few casualties are strewn outside the front, having overdone it with the mojitos. One of them is Serena, from London, who actually forgot to see any bands. “It’s been so ace in here, everyone’s really up for a laugh, the music is great, and you don’t have to worry about being rained on!”
It’s not fun for everyone, however. Barman John, who has been mixing drinks for the last eleven hours, is feeling worse for wear. “It’s been great, but I’m knackered, my hands are hurting from unscrewing bottle tops, and I haven’t half had to deal with some idiots who’ve fried their brains over the last couple of days!”
As the weekend draws to a close, the party breaks up and the punters drift off to continue the fun back at their own tents. The haunt of the beautiful people at V Festival closes down for another year.