The August Bank Holiday weekend is rapidly becoming associated, for me at least, with Sea Power’s Krankenhaus Festival. This will be the fifth one that they’ve held at Muncaster Castle and Jen and I have been to them all. The first one, back in 2019, had fewer than four hundred attendees and probably many of them were gatecrashers who had been alerted to the complete lack of security.
This year the capacity had reached fifteen hundred and that’s as high as I’d like it to go. Part of its charm is the lack of crowds and, whilst I appreciate the need for it to at least break even, it was very full inside the barn for the higher profile bands.
Despite the increased capacity, the festival was still a success. Hamish Hawk was very well received, as he had been last time he appeared. I can’t really understand how he isn’t bigger. There was a short performance from Stewart Lee, prior to him introducing The Nightingales. I wondered if he might struggle a bit as most of his humour relies on slow burning build ups and looping back to previous references. I needn’t have worried, as he nailed it.
The highlight though was Sea Power. It always is. For their Friday night performance, I started off a few feet from the stage, but it got too hot and after being clonked on the head by a surprisingly heavy wooden owl that was being dangled from a fishing rod, I moved to the colder air outside the barn and watched the rest of the set from there.
We stayed offsite, in a small place near Santon Bridge. It was ideal for a Sunday morning walk along a Forestry Commission path to Mitterdale. We didn’t see much in the way of wildlife other than a few sheep and I’m not sure that they count. As you’d expect, the views were great. When the path became boggy, we called it a day and turned around, but the six-mile stroll with plenty of ascent was worth doing.
Unsurprisingly, I took in a football game. I’d originally planned to head up to Whitehaven, but their 3pm kick-off would have meant missing Hamish Hawk. For an alternative I found a game that was kicking off at 11am as part of a groundhopping weekend. It was at Askham and involved an hour-long drive down some country lanes that were barely wide enough for one car, never mind two.
It was a fiver to get in and that included a programme and a team sheet, something that a lot of groundhoppers regard as essential to their experience.
Inclusion on a groundhopper tour significantly boosted the attendance. There were close to four hundred people there, mostly blokes on their own and of a similar age to me. The club had pulled out all of the stops to provide facilities and hopefully make a few bob from the day.
There was a small stall with Askam merchandise, including shirts that were presumably last season’s match kits. Further along, someone had two full tables of pin badges. He also had replicas of the Champions League, Premier League and FA Cup trophies. Selfies could be taken with the trophies at a pound a pop. An outdoor bar sold cans of beer and soft drinks but I resisted all of the spending opportunities until I reached the food stall where I spent my cash on a bacon and egg roll instead.
The Duddon Road ground doesn’t have any stands or seating, although there were a few picnic tables along one side of the pitch. There are houses along two sides of the pitch and some picturesque views of the sea behind one goal and the hills behind the touchline with the picnic tables.
It was a grass pitch and after the summer that we’ve had was mainly yellow and in need of some rain. It would have benefitted from some levelling too, with one section in particular sloping upwards towards the corner flag.
The fixture was in the twelfth-tier Division One of the West Lancashire League. According to the programme, Askam hadn’t been doing too well so far this season, but they had most of the early possession and better chances.
Crocklands took the lead against the run of play a quarter of an hour in, when a third effort was driven home after the keeper had beaten out the previous two attempts at goal.
Askam stepped up the pace in the second half but despite the pressure couldn’t force an equalizer. Most of the crowd moved on to Dalton for their second game of a three match Saturday itinerary, whilst I headed back up the road to Muncaster with sufficient time in hand for Hamish Hawk’s afternoon set.
Trail of the Lion King 