bunch of hippies stoned on chillums, snotty rag tag kids manky dogs, chi and chipatis, guru maraji,,,,,,,,, the PEACE CONVOY

PLEASE get real and tell the truth, dope dealers and poor little rich kids think they ( you too) all emigrated to austrailia and the costa del drop out ,

from a hippie kid who knows what was what
enjoy your nostalgia

Timothy

This is interesting, in the ten years we've run this site, this is the only REALLY negative message we've had from a contributor . He does however, misunderstand the purpose of this site, its NOT a nostalgia fest, it might be just that for those who were there, but we want to present the history of this movement , warts and all. We did ask Tim to contribute more, as we wanted to hear his side of things , but he never got back to us.

And by the way Tim, I always thought Guru M was a charlatan , even back in 1972 and as for poor little rich kids - almost of the people I knew who went to free festivals were from solid working class backgrounds and grew up or lived on council estates, hardly the lap of luxury......

Ed

Mannequin, one of the bands who played the Silver Moon © Davy G

I was one of the contingent that made for the local pub every night, partly for the good ale and local colour, but mostly for the toilets. We actually got in conversation with one of the locals, a retired teacher who lived in a cottage further up the valley, and he invited us for tea the next day. Very nice chap.

My abiding memory is of striking up a conversation with a group from Barrow who all worked at Windscale nuclear power station. After I had harangued them with my adolescent, half-formed and utterly self-righteous pronouncements on nuclear power as the new Satan etc... one of them quietly informed me that, without Windscale, nobody within 50 miles would have a job. I shut up after that and started to re-assess my previously impeccable hippy values.

Dennis

After the experience of the '83 Green Moon Festival the Silver Moon was a very different ambience/vibe. I spent a good part of a somewhat schizoid week there. On the weekdays after the Festival week-end I would up and away and complete a (shortish) day's work before returning late in the afternoon. During that time was the first occason on which I witnessed what threatened to be serious violence - a couple of pissed-up characters swinging lengths of 3 x 2 at each other somewhat ineffectively.

The rougher edge of the "convoy" didn't help at all. Their antics served only to attract police attention. I had a lift to Alston for supplies with people who were leaning out of the van window in the village who thought it entertaining when they were calling out the delights and availability of Acid.

What I think is less well known (and I have had confirmed by others who were there) was that towards the end of the occupation of the site, there had been a debate among the travelers as to whether the next move should be to go to Molesworth in support of the Peace Village, or to Nostell Priory for the Festival where the commercial opportunities for the sale of drugs could be exploited.

Given that Nostell Priory was virtually en-route to Molesworth, those in favour of Nostell Priory won the argument and the greater number accompanied them for the sake of solidarity.

Freak Electric live © Davy G

Freak Electric , another band who played the Silver Moon festival © Davy G

The rest is history, but for those who need a refresher, the coal-miner's strike trained Yorkshire Police trashed the Travellers in what can now be seen as a dry run for the Battle of the Beanfield at Stonehenge 1985. You might check out the story with Rainbow Paul (if he's still around) and it has since been confirmed by Guy and Sandra.
Politically inept.

The incapacity of the softer edge of the "Peace" Convoy to keep the more seriously criminal elements at bay played into the hands of Thatcher's authorities and contributed to the decline of the "Free" Festival scene.

As an aside, during the tense period when the Police were onsite at Nostell Priory, but before they took action, my late friend Jamie was encouraged to repeat his amplified performances of The Laughing Poilceman which may not have helped matters.

Back to the Silver Moon.I recall an wonderful moment when, carrying a flute and wearing a canary-yellow jacket on a sunny afternoon, I enncountered someone coming in the opposite direction carrying a guitar and wearing canary yellow trousers of similar material. A spontaneous jam led to dozens of people in the vicinity dancing. A moment of light and liberation.

Cheers
Rosie aka Dodoze

Timeline courtesy Davy G

Hi,

just found your site. I was at the green and silver moon festivals and what with one thing and another probably get the two mixed together. The first year we had an old coach which was parked facing the stage. I can remeber watching hawkind from that vantage point and lots of people coming on board when their tents got flattened during the storm. I remember that it being a pleasant festival with a good atmosphere. The following year I had a truck and a band of the same name 'ygor's revenge'. We turned up with the convoy. Some people were unnecessarily freaked by our arrival but that didn't spoil the atmosphere. I recall the law setting up an observation post in the field up hill from the site and the solitary loon who climbed the wall and started to run towards it- it seemed then that everybody took up the idea and charged en-mass causing the coppers to flee up the hill. No harm was done though. There was nearly some agro later when they turned up looking for someone ( dizzy?) who had apparently stolen a tarpaulin from a truck stop.That was resolved peacefuly too. I can remember playing a set and then being part of an acid fueled jam session with the tibetan ukrainian mountain troop amonst others.... A good time was had....

S O'Rourke

Nenthead 1984: Possibly the most obscure and difficult place in the British Isles to hitch to. Eventually, we got a lift with the dreaded 'Convoy' for the last 20 miles or so. I have to say, whatever other people's experiences may have been, that they were fine with us. They gave us a lift in the lead bus, offered us food and even helped us put our tent up when we arrived. Nobody intimidated us or tried to flog us heroin. Admittedly, their refusal to entertain such capitalist fripperies as paying any kind of entrance fee did seem to freak out the bloke on the gate (I had always thought it was a free festival anyway), but it got us in for nothing!

I can't remember a single one of the bands playing, although one of them might have been called Planet Waves (or that might have been somewhere else). I do recall a huge biker type trying to use a scary looking Bowie knife to slice off a lump of hash that my mate wished to purchase and nearly taking off his entire thumb in the process. It didn't seem to bother him much however. I guess bikers in the 80's were made of sterner stuff.

The atmosphere as I recall it was pretty relaxed. The Convoy seemed to keep themselves mostly to themselves and we exchanged a few greetings with them whenever we bumped into each other. They certainly didn't strike me as 'rich kids' as someone else has alleged. Far from it. They mostly came across as a cross-section of old hippies (the guy who gave us a lift told us about the time in the 60's that he bought an old London bus and set off to drive it to India. It got as far as Calais, where it promtly died and he swapped it for some dope.), proto-anarchists, drifters and a small hardcore of questionable types who gave the rest a bad name (and Thatcher an excuse). The Convoy kids were another matter entirely. They were a terrifying bunch of utterly feral children who seemed to have an inexhaustable supply of dubiously acquired vehicles which they would test to destruction at high speeds with seemingly no thought to life and limb (theirs and others).