Port Eliot in photos
The van, the marquee, the Chill Zone, the people who stopped by. Four days off-grid in a Cornwall field.
No power. Brought our own.
Carmen's words: "No power available for this event, due to lateness of application." Fine — everything ran off the van's own battery bank and solar.
How it actually went
Not every reception is glowing, and it doesn't need to be for a visit to be worth recording.
Carmen Peston and Tunes Festivals gave a free spot to a stranger with one email and no track record with them. That's the whole thing starting. Thank you, Carmen.
Jane, a yoga teacher, used the Chill Zone mat to stretch through period pain and told us straight: "you must come to Shambhala, it's wonderful." That's an invitation earned by just being there for someone, not asked for.
One visitor arrived hostile, convinced the free WiFi was a data-harvesting trick. He wasn't won over — he left a rude drawing on a card and walked off. Nobody chased him, nobody needed to be right. Some people just aren't going to like it, and that's allowed.
The Chill Zone worked. The hotspot worked, when the phone's screen stayed awake. Next time: better signage, inflatable seating, and a printed "please don't burn my stuff" sign instead of saying it on the fly.
Want us at your festival?
The Chill Zone travels. DnB Santa can fill a dead slot between acts. Get in touch — it usually costs nothing but a spot and a "yes."