A.H CAYLEY reports on a wet’n’wild day one of the fourth annual Golden Plains festival in Meredith, Victoria, on March 6. Photos by KRISTY MILLIKEN, with additions by DARREN LEVIN.

It all really begins when we get to the town of Meredith. Everything is closed, and no wonder. It's 6.30am. Gates at the site, still some distance away, don't open for another hour-and-a-half. With the sun steadily rising and the cool air growing only the slightest bit warmer, we wander into the corner store for whatever sustenance we can get. It feels like paradise at this hour. The folk behind the counter seem unfazed by our pallid complexions and sleepy eyes, as though they've not noticed the chilly darkness outside – they rush about to our orders, smiling and cracking jokes with each other and declaring my footwear the first gumboot sighting of the weekend. One asks with a chuckle if I'd like her to autograph my boots. The others all howl with laughter at this. I'm sure there's a joke in there, but I'm just too tired or too stupid to get it. Smile and laugh, try not to look like a fool. Or even worse, a city person.

“You're very happy this morning,” I say to another lady as she passes me a Gatorade.
“Always! I'm always like this, y'know,” she says, before pausing for effect and smirking. “Apparently it gets on some people's nerves.”

A steady stream of punters arrive and flow in and out of the store, and soon this quiet country intersection is full of cars and young people. It's a beautiful area. The briefest stroll along the main road reveals a gorgeous pink sunset above beautiful little old houses and gardens, paddocks stretching out into the distance behind them.

The sun now truly up, it's time to make the drive in. We arrive just after 8am and set about preparing our campsite. Friends arrive, drinks are shared, the sun brightens quite harshly then disappears. Outfits are changed, gumboots and ponchos (mine, a Sydney 2000 Olympic volunteer poncho, size L, previously unused) are donned. Finally, at 2pm, 10 hours after waking, the music begins.

Royal Headache are a great way to start any day, and it's such a shame so many people are still at their campsites or even still on the way. Rain falls, which may have deterred some punters, but those who have arrived don't seem to care all that much. The band plays a strong and energetic set of crowd favourites including 'Eloise' and 'Honey Joy'. While the larger stage and venue seemed to hinder their usual energy, it's still a great set – even with lead singer Shogun declaring, “I think I'm gonna vom, ay.” Perhaps he woke up at 4am as well?

The Crayon Fields play next, having set up fake vines and trees upon the stage. It really is quite beautiful in parts, lead singer Geoff O'Connor endearingly awkward as he serenades the crowd amid a smoke machine and soft lighting, the weather still chilly and the rain still coming down. I can't help but feel, however, that The Crayon Fields would have been better suited to opening the festival. After the furious set of Royal Headache, it seems a bit disjointed to change the mood so drastically. Few seem to mind, however – many more have now made their way to the Supernatural Amphitheatre, sitting comfortably on sofas, blankets, or chairs, absorbing the atmosphere so sweetly exuded from the stage.

Immediately following Crayon Fields, and regrettably the last Australian band of the day, is Clairy Baby Browne and the Bangin' Rackettes. They play an enjoyable set of swinging R&B tunes, and the crowd is truly dancing for the first time today. Dressed in red, white and black, the band and back-up singers completely look the part, as Browne's powerful voice tells tales of love and lust and fun. The mud at the front of the stage gradually softens under the stomping of excited gumboots, and it doesn't take long before I see the first of many messy falls this weekend. The now filthy punter hardly cares as he picks himself and dances to the last few notes from the band. A great addition to the line-up and a wonderful festival set.

It's disappointing that there are so few Australian artists today, more so that they were on right after each other in the earliest slots, playing to the smallest crowds of the day. However, it's understandable that some sacrifices must be made for the highly anticipated international line-up tonight that includes ’90s icons Pavement and Dinosaur Jr.

I make my way over to Inspiration Point for a rest, and shortly afterwards, an official-looking man with a radio approaches me. He seems to be off his tits.
“Wanna see something funny?” he asks.
“Well, sure. OK.”
“See over there,” he says, pointing out across the ravine to the faraway fields.
“People are trying to sneak in over there. Can you see 'em?”
I look, but I can't see anyone. In a state of excited hyper-vigilance, my eyes come to play tricks on me and even fence posts and trees start moving conspiratorially. I tell him I can't see a thing.
“Yeah, I can't either,” he says. “But keep looking.”

He tells me that trespassers are a constant at the festival, but that staff work very hard to ensure they don’t make it in. Planes patrol the perimeters and security staff and volunteers like him work shifts all around the site. He holds the radio to my ear as every few minutes another trespasser is either caught or spotted.

The rain comes down hard, with talk of thunderstorms and the worst yet to come, and the usually flamboyant outfits of those in the crowd make way for formless raincoats. It's like watching ghosts dance. Two young women standing near me wrestle each other in the mud, dragging in strangers and putting on a show for the bemused onlookers. Dedicated fans of the international acts still fill the amphitheatre into the night, while others try to cram into the warmth and shelter of the Pink Flamingo bar.

DL: There's a strong local angle to Pavement’s set, which precedes Dinosaur Jr at 9.15pm. Returning to the live circuit after 11 years, the slacker rock outfit dedicate songs to Rowland S Howard and Magic Dirt’s Dean Turner (who singer Steve Malkmus described as “Geelong’s finest”); introduce a track as ‘Eagle Rock’, which Malkmus himself covered with his band The Jicks at Meredith in 2005; and invite Melbourne music identity Julian Wu to the stage to sing the “I’m trying” chorus from ‘Conduit For Sale!’. The band, of course, will soon sport an Australian member with the relocation of guitarist Spiral Stairs to Melbourne after their reformation tour winds up this year.

AHC: After Dinosaur Jr, it’s all over, and the DJs take over until 6am, blasting into the dreams of sleeping campers. Cold but satisfied, it's time to collapse. Tomorrow can't come soon enough.

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DAY TWO: A lecture, a hail warning and a ride in an ambulance.