Womad

'By now the sun will be shining,' decreed the official souvenir programme - and magically, it was. WOMAD Charlton Park bathed (and baked) in glorious rays across the festival weekend. Surrounded by greenery, colourful flags and some of the finest music the world has to offer, a happy crowd enjoyed one of the best WOMADs in years. Which, given that WOMAD is the quintessential music festival, is really saying something.

Don't just take my word for it. Reviews have been ecstatic. 'A glorious setting, perfect weather and a line-up dominated by classic bands,' said the Guardian. 'A weekend of sunny celebration...All tastes were catered for', declared The Times. Even Mercury Prize-winner Roni Size Reprazent weighed in on WOMAD's unique appeal. "What makes this festival different from every other festival that I've been to," he told ITN, "is when you walk into the [Siam] tent. It's filled up with kids and buggies and their mothers and their fathers. Now that is an unbelievable sight."

Celebrations started early: as punters set up temporary homes in tee-pees, yurts and tents on Thursday evening, Zimbabwean group Siyaya stood on the open air stage and sang WOMAD into being. Kitted out in tasselled skirts and headdresses, joined by a small army of local school children, their energetic musicality sent good vibes to each corner of this vast, well-organised site. Early birds were further blessed with a Siam Tent performance by On-U Sound dubmeister Adrian Sherwood, blues guitarist Skip 'Little Axe McDonald' and reggae legend Lee 'Scratch' Perry. The Jamaican maverick returned for a series of encores, flight case in hand, clearly reluctant to leave.

A World of Wellbeing sprung up in the sun-dappled arboretum, where gigantic dreamcatchers hung from the branches of a towering fir tree and a giant teapot with red-and-white dots stood sentinel in the Tea Garden. 'More therapists through the trees' read a sign on a path that meandered past stalls offering everything from Thai yoga massage, sound healing and acupuncture to Reiki, water features and subscriptions to the world music magazine, Songlines. Inside the Wild Woodland Gamelan area children blew a cacophony on buffalo horns, whacked a drum tied at eye-level, bashed gamelans they'd made earlier. 'This should be a recording for a BBC Radio 3 session', noted a passer-by.

One of seven stages (or eight if you count Taste the World), the BBC Radio 3 stage was privy to a wealth of other WOMAD highlights. All-male Marseilles outfit Lo Cor de la Plana wowed an enthusiastic crowd on Friday with their polyphonic gymnastics and shield-sized frame drums; word of mouth ensured that their Saturday performance in the Big Red Tent was filled to elbow-rubbing capacity. Master percussionist Hossam Ramzy and his Egyptian Orchestra also graced the BBC stage, giving us a glimpse of the thrilling rhythms that have appeared on recordings by Peter Gabriel, Rachid Taha and - with Natacha Atlas - the new Real World compilation album, Big Blue Ball.

The result of three extraordinary recording weeks at Real World in the early 1990s, Big Blue Ball got its official launch at the Little Sicily Stage on Friday afternoon. Producers and curators Peter Gabriel and Karl Wallinger of World Party chatted about a collaborative album featuring the likes of Papa Wemba, Hukwe Zawose, Billy Cobham and Jah Wobble and created in the spirit of WOMAD. Hundred of helium-filled blue balloons filled the sky shortly afterwards (though a few were caught and inhaled for that Donald Duck-voice effect) as the audience - inspired by the selection of BBB tracks played by Peter and Karl - legged it to the WOMAD Shop to get their very own copy.

Billy Cobham was there on the Open Air Stage, overseeing the Cuban band Asere from behind his raised drum kit (a salsa-fied version of Marvin Gaye's Inner City Blues, anyone?); Rumberos de Cuba were there, too, dancing and playing up a Santeria storm in the Siam Tent. The Malian kora maestro Toumani Diabate sent his waterfall of sound cascading around the latter's Day-Glo interior, backed by a band that included his 16-year-old son Sidiki on kora, Habib Koite on guitar and the golden-throated griot Kassy Mady Diabate on vocals. "You might call this jazz but we don't," said Toumani of a new composition, Essaouira. "Just enjoy it." And we did.

As we did the disco sensation that is Chic. Kitted out in white suits and (well, one member anyway) pink hair, the 1970s legends - complete with sole surviving founder member, Nile Rogers - churned out hit after funk-pop hit (Good Times, Le Freak, Everybody Dance, Boogie Wonderland...) and turned the main arena into a Studio 54 for the WOMAD generation. The self-same arena that French-Algerian frontman Rachid Taha had rocking when he headlined soonafter, leading a furious band on oud, darbuka, drums and guitars; growling the Strummer-esque Rock El Casbah and kicking over his mic stand with rebellious savior faire.

The Friday night Ceilidh was suitably riotous: Irish accordionist Sharon Shannon was an engaging, natural host. Over in the Big Red Tent, the Scottish/Indian Nathan Lee stunned with his dextrous abilities on flute and beatbox; French/Algerians Speed Caravan duelled on electric oud in the Big Red Tent, just as they'd promised they would in a Little Sicily showcase a few hours earlier. As the lights came on in Carter's Steam Fair, lighting up the dodgems and Pirate Boat and Ferris Wheel, people dispersed to bars including the one in the Froots Speakeasy tent (wonderful, informal folk acts) and San Fran's Disco Cocktail Bar, with its comfy chairs and chill-out DJ.

Saturday arrived with guns - and sun - blazing. At the Taste the World tent, West African percussionist Modou Diouf held a sabar-drumming workshop - aided by his six-year-old grandson, Bunya - as the Kitchen Academy cooked up a Senegalese feast on the platform behind him. "We love WOMAD," a couple from Inverness told me, as their two young daughters devoured bowls of tasty fish and rice and then went back for more. "We're not used to the heat, though," they added, moving further into the shade.

Kenyan Luo band Kenge Kenge - whose name apparently means 'a fusion of small, exhilarating instruments' - proved a surprise festival hit. 'We are appealing to the American people out there for change, hope and peace,' they said, as their dancers shook their bums and twirled about. 'This is a song for Barack Obama' (Obama's father was a Kenyan Luo). Never was a campaign song was upbeat, danceable and - at over ten minutes in duration - enjoyably long. There were surprises over at the Siam Tent as Brazil's thunderous Monobloco let loose with their battery of percussion, playing the Jorge Ben Jor riff that Rod Stewart nicked for Do Ya Think I'm Sexy along with a stellar version of Stevie Wonder's Very Superstitious.

Situated next to the campaign area, in a long white marquee with butterfly designs on its roof, the WOMAD Spa enjoyed a healthy turnover of clients - especially in the mornings, when the allure of fluffy towels and roomy showers drew a conga line of punters. Saturday afternoon saw a hen party of 12 women invade the treatment areas; the bride-to-be happened to be reclining in the outside Jacuzzi (in a giant felt chook hat) when the Red Arrows flew over in formation, trailing plumes of multi-coloured smoke.

Gospel diva and US civil rights darling Mavis Staples sang her heart (and throat) out on the Open Air stage soon afterwards. "Dr King used to like this one," she announced, reminding us of her history. Then, with a sparkle and a shimmy, came Cambodian singer Chhom Nimol and her band of LA-based alt-rockers, Dengue Fever. Nimol's pure vocals and infectious, pre-Khmer Rouge pop stance worked a treat when pitched against the psychedelic rock and Ethiopian sax of her colleagues.

Back at the Siam Tent, Martha Wainwright was in powerful vocal form, wielding her guitar like a weapon as she stood splay-legged in six-inch silver platforms. (Her encore, Bloody Motherfucking Asshole, undoubtedly made parents grateful for those bright pink ear cans they'd planted on younger children's heads). The ambience changed, of course, for the Sufi night - where Uzbekistan's Munadjat Yulchieva, a former opera soprano, was a highlight. And on the main stage, Eddy Grant. Engaging all in a skanking, swaying, mass singalong with hits including War Party, Joanna and of course, Electric Avenue.

Sunday dawned hot, with little wind. Global Village stallholders selling hats, sarongs and ice creams were kept busy (oh, and special mention to the Goan Fish Curry stall, where I ate the amazing fish caldine every night). On the BBC Radio 3 stage Serbian singer Svetlana Spaji'c sweltered in the colourful traditional costume of her Balkan village - having been forced to wait while the BBC Proms, with its Dr Who theme, ran late. Backed by a band including Andrew Cronshaw on zither, Spacji'c eventually sang in an otherworldly voice that conjured space, and mountains, and shade.

The scores of children in the World of Kids area cared little for the vagaries of weather. Hunched over trestle tables, feet barely reaching the floor, they painted, sculpted, created. Here were workshops in Magical Miniature Gardens. African songs. Tibetan Clouds, Autumn Leaves. Seasons of the World was the theme of this year's Children's Procession - which, when it snaked around the site and through the Siam Tent (complete with gigantic goose and other Carnival-esque apparitions), drew spontaneous applause all the way.

After lessons in Batchata Dance in the Dance! tent and a bit of Djembe Drumming in the Drum! tent it was time for the award-winning Bassekou Kouyate and his funky Malian band, Ngoni Ba and the Chinese sensation that is Sa Ding Ding soonafter. Sa Ding Ding was, indeed, sensational: wearing a head mic and a robe made of tassels and flags, she started still and dramatic, sitting with her hands on her knees as dancers leapt and tumbled in front of her. Her theatrical show, with its props and costume changes, mirrored her mix of traditional songs and poppy, electronic instrumentation.

Oh to have been everywhere at once: the Chinese dub project of punk veteran Jah Wobble was one of those annoying you-should-have-been-there's, as was the drum 'n' bass workout of DJ Marky and Stamina MC. Still, I got to dance along to Senegalese rhythm kings Orchestra Baobab - that country's very own Buena Vista Social Club - and watch, gobsmacked, as Seun Kuti channelled his late, great father Fela Kuti (while leading his father's tightly coiled band Egypt 80) all over the Open Air Stage.

After shimmying to the car park - we'd counted the number of poles to our row - we waved good-bye to the stewards (who'd waved first) and hit the M4. WOMAD Radio kept us going for 20 miles; after that we cruised on the buzz, the memories and the knowledge we'd be doing it all again next year.

Jane Cornwell
Photgraphs York Tillyer.