One Stage, Zero Snakes, and Infinite Good Vibes: Meredith Nails It.

I'll admit there was some scepticism on the drive up from Melbourne that morning - I hadn't been to a festival in Australia before. Will I get sunburnt to a crisp? Will I be able to make friends? Am I gonna get eaten by a snake? And that's before getting to the music and costs. Working out at roughly £240 for slightly over 2 days, it's not exactly cheap for a small festival. And there's only one stage. Are you joking?

It had been exceptionally hard work to find tickets as well. Due to high demand these are now allocated by ballot. Was it all going to be worth the effort?

We pulled through the gates to Meredith hoping to be proven wrong. I'm very glad to say we were.

The first sign that we were in for something special was in the calibre of vehicles queuing to get in. Dedicated party buses, pick up trucks with heaps of camping paraphernalia piled in, and vans... with sofas strapped to the roofs? I'll come back to that last bit shortly. But one thing was clear, the Aussies don't do half measures when it comes to camping. In stark contrast to the UK, where you wouldn't be surprised to find a teenager sleeping in a family pack of Walkers crisps, the often stereotyped barbecue and camping culture is strongly reflected in the campsite. Every group complete with their own awning and an Esky (cool box) full of ice (the ice you can purchase within the campsite. Revolutionary. Why hadn't we thought of that?) No more lukewarm Stella Artois thank you very much.

Things started to make more sense when we arrived at the main stage - sorry, only stage - for the first act. The festival refers to it's self as The Global Amphitheatre; the stage is tucked away in a gorgeous funnel shaped valley, the gentle slope meaning the whole audience is able to see throughout, and with hundreds of the aforementioned punter-owned sofas lining its peripheries.

I imagine this tradition of bringing a sofa along started at a long-past iteration of the festival, with one pioneer and a dream of a more comfortable festival experience. Now a staple of Meredith, the unofficial Facebook chat was ablaze with sofa-owners in the weeks before, looking to send-off their second hand furniture in Viking funeral fashion.

Many were complete with impressively engineered customisations; built-in drink cooling facilities, flag poles adorned with all means of witty slogans and in-joke-oriented group names, and even one with a landline telephone attached (it didn't look wired-up, but I wouldn't be surprised).

The charm of the festival and it's audience was already doing it's work when we met Phil. A 3-time attendee who we encountered dancing away to the interval music, complete with purple and blue painted nails and insisting that the party doesn't stop when the bands stop playing. "The energy just ebbs and flows".

This is where Meredith's one-stage approach actually plays to its advantage. The line-up of artists on the surface is all over the place. "You just turn up and you never know what you're gonna get," says Leon who we were camping next to. But these guys know what they're doing.

You can trust the curators of this festival to chaperone you from Friday to Sunday without fumbling. And when I say Friday to Sunday, I mean Friday all the way to Sunday. The 20 minutes between each set is when Meredith's "interstitial DJs" come out to play, carrying the vibe safely from one act to the next, not dropping it once.

You may plan to get back to your tent between each act, but you'll find it pretty darn tricky to pull yourself away from the relentless tunes these guys spin. Some of my favourite moments of the whole weekend were just from unplanned boogies with strangers after a good live set. Yes, the live sets were consistently excellent, but this was the cherry on top.

As the evening continued my journalistic skills began to waiver and more nuanced questions eventually gave way to, "why do you like Meredith then"?".

Apparently, for a lot of people, it's the toilets.

Or at least when asked after several hours of drinking, it seems that's where the mind goes to. To be fair, it was something that had played on my mind beforehand as well. After a few weeks of travelling and using some fairly feral campsite locales, I had prepared myself for more of the same. But thankfully my concerns were for nought.

Compost loos were kept immaculately clean and were in high supply for the whole weekend with pretty minimal queues as well. Its a win from the Meredith toilets.

Now the only question on a squeamish Brit's mind should be the local wildlife.

Despite Australia's reputation as a country with some pretty gnarly creepy crawlies, the whole weekend was a totally painless endeavour. In other words, I was not eaten by a snake - awesome. Yes there was the odd cockroach spotted, but nothing of the deadly variety (okay a sign did go up at one point announcing a snake sighting, but come on, that even happens at Green Man in Wales).

The other side of the "mate, why is Meredith so good then?" answers were troublingly wholesome. Doing my best to get mental one-liners from pinging locals sadly only yielded some B-list inspirational quotes. However by the end of the weekend, I once again found myself agreeing with their wisdoms.

The place was full to the brim with serial-attendees. A tightly knit community of committed festival-goers. It's hard to quantify what this feels like in real terms so I'll use an example we should all be able to relate to. At every festival I've ever attended, if you leave a camping chair and beers unattended for more than 5 minutes, there's a good chance you're not getting them back. Here, our other camping neighbour, Charlie, assures us that, "no one's taking from your Esky". It's just a different culture of camaraderie.

Building on this is just how visible the festival organisers are throughout. 'Aunty', as they sign off on all their correspondence, is seen on stage every couple of hours to look after us: to give a heads up on the weather forecast, reminding us to wear sunscreen, pick up rubbish, and of course - as any wine aunt would - some gentle encouragement to participate in the nude power walking race. It all comes together for - to stereotype slightly - a family-like feel.

Okay, but what about the music?

I'll keep this bit brief. It's clear that Aunty's earnt the trust of the hundreds of folks who go every year. My review is that it's entirely deserved. I'd almost advise future attendees to ignore the line-up. Let them take you by the hand and go revel at the Global Amphitheatre.

Meredith is the product of a passionate community-oriented team not relenting to the pressures of capitalism. Retaining it's individuality in the wake of huge popularity isn't something many are able to achieve. It's a lesson in how to keep art authentic.

It turns out you don't need multiple stages and fifty tat shops selling the same pair of single-use sunglasses for a good festival. Keep it simple and focus on what really matters. The music and the people.

Pictures by Mike Ridley and Eloise Coomber.