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Gumboots, raindrops and fishing pants? It is, of course, WOMADelaide.

The knockers can make all kinds of excuses to not attend this festival; always too hot, this year too cold; artists are obscure or becoming Triple J; it’s expensive; it’s long (and getting longer); the commercialisation of hippy culture; so much to do in Adelaide at this time… the list goes on. But, at the end of the day(s), it is a world-class festival as distinct as it is excellent. Womad exists in five locations across the globe and Adelaide’s is an institution, a must-see event that people rightfully look forward to and attend again and again.

After previous stinking hot events, Saturday was cool to say the least. Threatening to rain all day, and often achieving it, those who brought jackets held their ground, while others darted for the ineffective protection of trees and, still others, just grinned and bore it.

While the rain caused problems and rendered some stages unusable for periods, the Womad crowd is calm and respectful. The sight of children dancing and grubby bare feet shows that this is more festival than concert. Public drunkenness didn’t appear until well into the evening and the sniffer dogs which have become regulars at Adelaide music events seemed to have been given the night off, chasing the proverbial rabbits or maybe sneaking some of the confiscated product over to Wang Wang and Funi (it would explain the Panda’s increasingly bizarre behaviour, but more on that later). The pleasing smell of bud existed on the fringe, but it would be unfair to put all the blame on our black and white friends.

Calexico partly names their band after an area, which is also famous for Chinese bears, and their sound, (they’re from Arizona, not California), which sharpens the connection between southwest U.S.A. and northern Mexico. If Johnny Cash had been in a Mariachi band, would it have sounded like this?

As the crowd became at one with the dampness and people started to wonder if that’s what a wet Panda smells like or, more likely, if that hippy just needs a shower, the day seemed to really begin. Calexico’s brass-filled tunes got many swaying along.

Womad is not just about music and Taste The World combines two of life’s great joys: food and music. This was an opportunity to interact as a group. It felt like a dinner party with friends we wished we saw more of.

Stage 2 hosted Algerian-French artist *Kamel El Harrachi*’s exquisite strings, continuing in the famous pluckings and strokes of his father.

The children’s area was fun and colourful. Beautifully appropriate for kids and overly tempting for adults.

Breaks in the rain had Womadeladians turn the trees into clotheslines for soggy tie-dye and hemp shawls. Don’t walk underneath, if you prefer to pay for that streak in your hair!

The Martin O’Connor Trio on Stage 4 disproved any myths that the accordion is uncool and also reminded us that Irish culture is a part of ours (Wang Wang was reportedly firing up the billy at this point). Their musical energy, dry humour and sunny disposition dried many out enough to help them push on through the day.

But the gods stopped teasing and it finally pissed down proper. It was no match for Xavier Rudd who delighted with a great performance, which included a tribute to the recently deceased aboriginal singer Ruby Hunter.

Hypnotic Brass Ensemble hails from Chicago and brought sexy rhythms, phat drums and gangsta showmanship to the event. The night had now settled into a glorious dampness. The best cure for the cold is to move. And these guys got this happening. For many, they ‘got the party started’.

Babylon Circus is a high energy, fun, brass band with an edge of Oom-Pah. These well-dressed French boys brought a smile to the face and a wiggle to the bottom.

However the sound of French accents must have brought back bad colonial memories for Funi, as she stumbled and almost fell from her tree. She furiously denies Wang Wang’s claims that it was the effects of too much billy tea and claims it all went wrong when she slipped while impersonating Mike Rann’s terrible dancing.

The best stages are on the peripheral. Nestled into the trees, a crowd had gathered to get a top possie for The Bamboos. This eight-piece Melbourne outfit had a solid group of fans hopping to their soulful funk.

The world music festival needs representation from the oldest land on Earth. Frank Yamma is an Aboriginal man with humble presence. He sung from the inside. Songs of pain and beauty, which were accentuated by lyrics in his native tongue. There was something magical about hearing this man, hidden amongst the trees. New songs with old souls.

And so it went on.

WOMAD is an event to cherish. It’s not possible to see it all, and one shouldn’t try. The feel and look of this festival compliments its location and the greatness that is Adelaide at this time of year.

As the crowd dispersed at the end of the day to rest before returning for two more days of fun, the sounds of Pandas dancing could still be heard in the distance. Yeah. Furry wetness is great!

CHECK OUT ALL THE PHOTOS HERE.