Right, so I like music and I like Spain.  Beaches however, are overrated.  So therefore understandably I went to Benicassim two summers ago unsure whether i'd be jumping for musical joy or throwing up all over my Sangria flavoured ice lolly.  Well the good news is I did neither of these.

Like many of my fellow journeymen my holiday started with my arrival at the airport of Barcelona.  A pleasant flight followed by an equally pleasant train journey took me to Sants train station, as seen in millions of skate vids and not so many tourist guides.  Here unfortunately is where the trip takes a fateful turn readers. 

As I put my bag down between my legs to purchase my metro ticket, a man signals to me, asking for directions in Spanish.  'Yes!' I think, a chance to use my Spanish.  I answer his question and suddenly I feel my gut turn inside out.  I look to where I was stood and my hand luggage has gone. 

My 200 euros in my wallet, my 5 favourite t shirts in the whole world, my Robinson Crusoe book with only 20 pages left to go, and last but not least, my precious Ray Bans.

Anyway, to cut a long story short, then next 12 hours consisted of this- wandering round Barcelona at one in the morning trying to find a police station.  Spend an hour trying to explain to them what happened.

Get to my hostel at 3 in the morning with no money, finally lets me in when I show him my police report.  Wake up, get dad to wire me 200 euros to get to Beni, spend the first 100 on some Ray Bans and only just afford the bus journey to the festival.

When you get there, my word! It may be a festival in Spain but it's full of freakin Brits.  The only Spanish people I saw spent their time getting pissed outside the gates whilst listening to the music for free. 

Most people including myself arrive 5 days before the music starts, spend their days on the beach and their nights getting drunk and sloping into the tent at sunrise for a precious 2 hours sleep. 

On the second night I was regaled a story of a burning Piano on the beach, being taunted by drunken youths, dancing around it and shouting Kings of Leon songs at the top of their lungs, knowing full well the piano's hatred of that sort of music.  For one particularly fervent King's of Leon fan this was not enough though. 

He decided to leap over the burning piano, a physical symbol of the dominance of one genre of music over another.  Our poor friend Yamaha the Piano had his revenge mind.  The erratic leaper managed to only get halfway across, resulting in 3rd degree burns and an emergency plane flight home before he heard a single band play.  Apparently to this day, the piano can still be heard chuckling to himself- 'Yamaha ha ha' he softly repeats.

Beni is the life of a 1st class hobo my friends, and how glorious it is.  As long as you don't mind queuing for the shower the day before you plan to have it.  If you're not careful you may end up in what's known to Beni stalwarts as the 'shower spiral' where you spend your whole time trying to catch up on the shower you missed yesterday, because you spent your whole time queuing so you could have a shower today. 

This nightmare scenario gets more and more extreme until eventually you start to love your 'Stig of the Dump' style and you spend the rest of the festival at the euro pop tent where you know no one else will bother you.

Just about the time you get bored of counting the number of fake wayfarers on the beach, the music begins on the friday night.  Its a beautiful half an hour walk spent downing vodka before you get to the gates, hoping you'll stay drunk enough to get through the night without spending 5 euros on a beer. 

The music is always a mixed bag at Beni, there were some great big bands like Leonard Cohen, Sigur Ros and and My Bloody Valentine.  Combine that with some awesome lesser known bands like Battles and El Guincho and you know there's always a band on to suit your mood.

A particular fond memory for me was Justice followed by Hot Chip, I've never felt happier to dance against a crowd full of equally pasty torsos and feel the music tingle.
I learnt a few things about music here.  Silent discos are a really shit gimmick- who wants to dance to a different beat than everyone else?! 

The Raconteurs are the tightest band I've ever seen.  Gnarls Barkley is really crap live but really popular in Spain.  Oh, and Morrissey loves to complain about stuff.

If you like beach holidays but get bored of sunbathing after a while, go to Benicassim.
If you want to experience different cultures go somewhere else- its full of British uni students.
Buh Bye.