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A car, bogged deep at the bottom of a ditch on Sues Rd, being towed out by a beasty landcruiser on a Friday afternoon. Sorbent streamers decorating towering eucalypts that like it thicker and softer. A jaded looking kid walking aimlessly with his face and front covered in dirt and his back totally clean, save for a few hundred lines of permanent marker (bad idea to pass out face down in the middle of the day). Rogue firecrackers exploding to the howls of hundreds of drunken beasts early on a Monday morning. This can only mean one thing- another Southbound has passed and 2010 revealed the most well-oiled and successful one yet.

The general feel around the festival and camping grounds was that it had officially graduated from the music festival it was born as, into the arts and culture celebration it now claims to be. Not just because of its incredible variety of cultural offerings, but because of the noticeably hyper-eclectic crowd it pulled this year. It was a cultural snapshot of mainstream trends that will begin the new decade and a reflection of the influences of the last.

The Paris Hilton and Beckham influenced vanity. Ray Bans. iPhones. Scantily dressed kids who looked fresh out of primary school. Obama and Rudd influenced liberal attitudes. Howard influenced national pride reflected in hundreds of southern cross tattoos. And the drugs- everyone was on them. From kids to squares to aged hippies to middle aged folk reliving the glory of their 90s raving days. It was a testament to the festival’s wide appeal that for three days and nights, punters were exposed to a myriad of social groups and cultural influences which currently shape the state they live in. No other festival attracts such a variety.

It had something for everyone and vast and well-thought-out surroundings to enjoy that something in. There were no crowd crushes. Close attention had obviously been paid to aesthetics. This was most evident in the brilliant designs on the flags which flew around the perimeter of the grounds and the poignantly decorated Coconut Club. Seeing that joyous little corner of the festival instantly summoned thoughts of that sample from The Avalanches’ Since I Left You- “Watch the steps, get a drink, have a good time now. Welcome to paradise.”

People could move freely from stage to stage, shaded areas and toilets were in abundance, drinks and foods other than dagwood dogs were readily available and free water was everywhere. The only qualms came with the irritating eftpos – œvouchers’ and the fact the shaded area of THAT STAGE was positioned right behind the sound tent allowing no view of the acts.

The camping experience was, as always, the best way to enjoy Southbound, but it definitely took some organisation and discipline on the campers’ behalf to pull it off. Air mattresses should never be trusted and pacing the substance abuse was a must. Getting slaughtered and waking up in a hot tent, with an esky full of heated water and no rehydration available except water bottles filled with vodka is always the worst sickness in the world.

However Sunset Events, had this year, made the concerted effort to increase the number of showers and water stations available in the campsite so hellish hangovers were given every chance to be battled. Another noticeable improvement on the organisers’ behalf was the number of shuttle busses going into town. In previous years going to the beach had never been worth the wait, but this year the busses came and went with European efficiency. Transperth take note.

The Basecamp, despite its horribly overpriced goods, was the best one yet. Acts entertained crew in the chill-out tent all weekend and there was the finest selection of Sunset Cinema cult-film Southbound has seen with Stone Bros and an 80s Ozploitation flick called Dead End Drive-In being the highlights. As for the silent disco- who doesn’t love a fucking silent disco?

It was these aspects of Southbound that made it an event worth going to regardless of what bands were playing on the bill. A $300 camping ticket price was admittedly a lot to ask of people but it was for a unique experience that only happens once a year in WA. Where else would you find yourself in funny situations like this:

It’s 10pm and a young 20-something girl is waiting for her boyfriend outside of the camping piss troths. She is startled by an aged hippy, with stringy long hair and a matted beard, who emerges wide-eyed and confused from nowhere.
“Excuse me miss… can you tell me where the fuck I am?”
“Well where abouts do you need to be?” the girl says as she relaxes and realises he’s just a seasoned acid user who’s a little lost.
“Well I know I there’s two big trees standing together.” the aged hippy says in the hope this new information may lead him to where he needs to go.
The girl looks around at the paddock of tents and pairs of big trees that surround her. She’d like to help her new friend on his quest but can only apologise about her lack of knowledge of big trees in the area. The aged hippy mumbles a few more lines of confusion and continues on his way to find his two big trees.

Only at Southbound