We go for a wander, waiting for OPM (who?) to finish so we can take our places at the main stage for Trail of Dead. This involves rolling up trouser legs to avoid their hems soaking up the rivulets of water trickling underfoot at the front. It also involves spotting and ducking the flying cups of water so thoughtfully hurled out by security geezers to keep us all cool. Really, I'm not that hot, no really, SPLOOSH…glug…etc. It's like enduring over enthusiastic Chinese water torture and makes watching the band a feat of great concentration.