ONE of the best ways to experience Green Man is to get as high as a kite!

And flying through the clouds on the ever-popular Ferris Wheel by the Far Out tent gives you a real bird’s eye perspective on why the Glanusk Estate festival continues to cast a spell on all those who return year after year.

Up in the clouds, far away from the mixed aromas of urine and fried food where all tunes are rendered background noise and all performances obsolete, all that’s left is mountains. Brooding, majestic, indifferent mountains!

They put the green into the man and prove that it’s never about the set but the setting!

Look up from any corner of the Green Man Festival and you’ll catch a sublime view of familiar mountains and scenery but from a whole new angle.

For festival goers from the concrete flatlands that’s a mighty dose of mystical Welsh medicine!

Unusually this year, the mountains weren’t mist-covered and running with rain but dappled in the sort of glorious late Summer sunshine that carries just a hint of the melancholy of Autumn.

But that could just be the effects of one pint too many!

Yet when all is said and done, the airy realms and high places of this world belong to the prophets and the birds. sooner or later you’ve got to come down to Earth with a thud!

But what better place to do it then in the lazy elegance of Glanusk Estate amongst 25,000 souls who just want to leave reality at the door for a few days and disappear into a world of tents, music, alcohol, and as the sign suggests, pure, unbounded joy.

Although once a recent flyer, I hadn’t been to the Green Man for five years.

Although a lot of things have changed in a post-pandemic world, the little ramshackle settlement that springs up in the former garden of the old Iron-master Joe Bailey each year for a handful of days hasn’t.

It still sparkles with a rare and elusive wonder.

Make no mistake, the Green Man attracts large crowds of people, but strolling around the charming and meticulously laid-out site is like taking a walk around a super-sized philanthropic village. The pace is relaxed, the manners refined, and the mood is civil.

For all its success, the Green Man, unlike many of its counterparts, has resisted the deadly lures of complete and crass commercialisation.

Like an ancient, gnarled, and twisted oak, the festival remains a little bit ragged, a little bit frayed at the edges, but with a whole lot of vintage, and an elusive sense of uniqueness which, fortunately for us, has branched out and taken root in our very own little corner of Wales.

Naturally, when you’re catering for over 20,000 visitors and offering thousands of performances spread across a myriad of different stages, being green doesn’t come all that easy. That many festival goers demand a lot of feeding, watering, and for sanity’s sake - sanitation.

Yes as music festivals go, it’s all pretty civilised and seems to roll along with an effortless ease.

Yet the Green Man isn’t all about wandering like a cloud from bar to bar with a reusable plastic pint mug sitting pretty in your hand.

Nor is it all about riding high on the big wheel, unlocking the secrets of the universe in Einstein’s Garden, chewing the cud in the Cinedrome, shooting the breeze in Babbling Tongues, twisting the night away at Round The Twist, or lazily wondering how old the huge trees that are scattered around Glanusk Estate are.

The Green Man is also about the music.

From obscure bands to those you’ve never heard of, the Green Man’s line-up is no Glastonbury, but then again, the Green Man has always been about the joy of discovering new music rather than the boredom of watching established acts go through the motions.

The Sleaford Mods brought the ruckus as they flapped around like fish out of water, The Jesus and Mary Chain captured a mood and darkened it, Stewart Lee raised a smile, Jon Hopkins painted things a little psychedelic, The Mary Wallopers walloped merry hell out of the crowd, Sampha summoned some scorching sounds and Big Thief seized the moment with a historic performance.

Meanwhile, lesser-known acts such as They Say Jump filled the Chai Wallahs tent with the sort of performance that had snap, crackle, and pop by the bucket full.

Yet all good things come to an end and as the Green Man goes up in smoke for another year, let’s hope it rises from the ashes for a bigger, badder, and greener 2025!