Knockengorrach is an all round festival experience that really can’t be recounted by even the most pompous of reviewers. It is an event that, if you’ll pardon the cliché, has to be seen to be believed. This was my second foray into Knocengorrach after May’s World Ceilidh and my worn city psyche was yearning for another experience in that stunning valley.

Yet as the Bothy Collective drove in semi-darkness down a tenuous road into the Galloway hills (after a somewhat ill fated journey from Edinburgh) my refined city pessimism began to get the better of me. When I discovered that the only available patch of ground on which to pitch my tent consisted of 90 per cent rock and 10 per cent soil, my doubts were furthered; it was a starlit but bitterly cold night. Perhaps I was never destined to be the happiest camper in the Bothy Scout Troop.

However it is such rigours that make this festival all the more worthwhile, and do so much to foster the sparkling sense of community that is the hallmark of this small yet perfectly formed festival. The levelling quality of mutual dirt goes a long way.

In terms of music the event caters for a vast swathe of tastes, from the most loyal folk to the most rebellious ska. Yet because the main stage is open for so long over the whole weekend, and is complemented by a variety of other musical venues the festival seems to have a struck a balance which means there is rarely any shortage of music that you want to hear.

To offer a critique of the main stage would belittle the entirely enveloping experience that this festival has to offer- you can wander from dance tent to folk session in a matter of minutes, perhaps taking in some reggae in between.

Veteran Irish folk band Altan offered a climactic performance on Saturday night, and biased as I am towards the folk element of this festival I have always felt that the roots based artists always seem to create the best atmosphere around the main stage. Even the slower song based material such as a resplendent Green Grow the Rushes O kept the crowd of muddied, substance imbibing festival goers enthralled.

Rory Campbell (Old Blind Dogs) entertained a slightly sodden five o’clock crowd on the main stage with a fiery ability on whistle and pipes, featuring tunes from Galicia, Northumberland, Brittany (among many others) complemented by some brilliant percussion.

For those with a taste for a good old folk session the festival offers a number of outlets for almost anyone to express themselves musically. Despite the cold, the Bothy Collective were often drawn to the literally constant sessions in the festival’s Acoustic Village, frequented by countless memorable characters (not least the man who embodies the festival spirit more than anyone, the irrepressible Tim Thomas).

By Sunday evening (or to be more accurate, early Monday morning) the spirit of the Bothy had begun to wilt. With two successive hangovers merging into one, damp tents, and dwindling provisions some began to retreat towards their sleeping bags. For those few that remained however, the greatest discovery of the festival was yet to be seen, the relentless Weirdstring Band. This trio of fiddle, guitar and double bass performed a remarkable set that was the perfect finale to a remarkable festival with their brilliantly witty gypsy/folk renditions of just about every over-played hit you could name.

Something very special occurs at Knockengorrach that others festivals lack, few who I know seem to have gone through it unchanged. This is partly due to its well-nigh complete isolation from the outside world. It is also partly due to the wide variety of people that attend form the very young to the very old, from the seasoned hippy to the curious student. Even more significant is relatively modest numbers that attend. To quote the man who owns the land it takes place on Simon Holmes, the festival’s main success lies in getting people out of their boxes. The problem is that by the end of the festival you don’t really want to get back in them. In my opinion any cynical city-dweller should be dragged to Knockengorrach and shown that music, mud, and Scotland’s scenery should be embraced, not shied away from.