ENJOYED

a fabulous evening on Friday, watching Van Morrison, the Waterboys and Hothouse Flowers in the idyllic grounds of Wrest Park, a stately home at Silsoe, Bedfordshire.

There were a few minor niggles, such as the queue for the loos and the dopey bird who plonked herself in front of us, then got up, turned her back to the stage and started taking selfies for ten minutes. But the surroundings and the weather were splendid, the sound system immaculate and Van the Man on the best form I’d seen him in 40-odd years.

The afternoon tea hamper we’d ordered was jolly good. And though the booze was overpriced, well, when isn’t it at these festivals? Yet I opened the Mail yesterday to discover that some of my fellow revellers weren’t happy.

They complained about everything, from not being allowed to take their own sandwiches to the chaos in the car park after the show.

Some people said it took them more than three hours to get away. Sorry about this, but we were out of there in five minutes.

Bitter experience of attending large events has taught me to always leave a few minutes before the end. The trick at any concert is to make a move during the first encore.

We agreed on Friday that when Van started singing Brown Eyed Girl, it was time to leg it, otherwise we’d have been there all night, too.