VALLEY FEST, CHEW MAGNA – ‘A LITTLE FESTIVAL WITH A BIG HEART’

The glory of Valley Fest is self‑evident the moment you see Chew Valley Lake.

It glistens with luminous flecks of yellow, giving a satisfying payoff for any sweaty, tent‑wrestling festival setup.

Nestled behind the Valley Fest 2026 sign, the festivities are already in full swing with people bathing in hot tubs toasting prosecco, a yoga class underway and kids on the horizon being whirled in circles of screaming glee at the fayre; an idyllic welcome that makes it all worth it.

The festival site itself could not be more picturesque. As well as the lake, 360‑degree views of the Mendip Hills serve as a backdrop and families relax on a mix of hay bales and old wooden chairs with the slope creating a natural amphitheatre in front of the Lake Stage.

And with Luke Hasell at the helm the beer and cider are local, and food offers high quality and locally sourced.

This festival is alive and buzzing as Bristol‑based artist Billy Nomates (aka Tor) takes to the stage with live drummer Liam to beef up the sound alongside the customary programmed beats.

The crowd gradually slides down the hill to their feet to greet Tor who embraces the relaxed nature of the festival, joking: “If you see me in Asda Bedminster buying half‑price toothpaste, say hello!”

BNM gets the kids dancing on the barrier with a set of old favourites, inviting us to Phone In Sick, and Balance Has Gone picks up the tempo and moves us nicely into the evening.

The timing of an act can make all the difference. Dutty Moonshine Big Band are a perfect example of this with the sunshine festival band, if ever there was one, taking to the Lake Stage mid‑afternoon.

They get the festival bouncing with brass bangers for day drinkers and dancers. Vamanos gets the biggest cheer of the festival so far as a huge crowd congregates. Frontman Mike loses a paper‑rock‑scissors battle and has to run to the backstage bar, pull a pint and get back mid‑song – he does it, barely spilling a drop!

The brass section moves in unison with immaculate synchronicity and style, taking us through all sorts of genres per song: jazz, rap, funk; they’ve got it all in abundance. Smiles on faces, moves on the festival dancefloor, coming to a venue near you in November – go see them.

Big Special bring a shift in style as the sun goes down behind the Lake Stage. The soulful punk two‑piece take to the stage with spoken, spiky rock poetry – a switch in mood welcomed by the few in the know who had turned out to see them.

This set grew in momentum, ending in a frenzy of energy as frontman Joe Hicklin planted a cymbal in the crowd to be smashed by one young fan who gave it one hell of a beating. Joe made his way around the crowd smiling and lending the mic to fans.

If this wasn’t enough, I had the pleasure (and luck) of walking in on the Beat with Ranking Junior at the Regeneration Stage – late‑night ska from a legendary band. Their extended version of Mirror in the Bathroom made my festival.

Saturday starts in the Kids Zone. A hive of active creativity, a safe space that encourages free expression and for kids to run wild.

It’s all going on: piggyback fights, drumming lessons, intricate henna. There’s enough here, even without the music, to keep kids more than happy for hours.

As I leave the zone, to my left an adult is engaged in a tug‑of‑war with five children and to my right, Doreen Doreen fill the festival grounds with the biggest crowd yet.

This is Bristol’s best covers mash‑up band, and everyone is here to see them. The band finds musical and lyrical links in pop songs and fuses tracks you didn’t expect together – sometimes seamless, sometimes shameless.

They are colour, fun, and talented musicians who have mastered the art of entertainment since 1982. Founder Carole performs from her mobility scooter, full of sarcastic wit and humour as she tweaks nipples and winds up the crowd for not knowing Bohemian Rhapsody.

If you take yourself too seriously, this band isn’t for you. They never stop moving, twinkling away in their sequins, flicking their boas and having a great time all round. Infectious.

Fulu are a huge discovery for me: the mask‑wearing electro‑brash brass eight-piece caught me off guard. They are avant‑garde and clearly have a serious message.

The set increased in energy as it went, culminating with all eight of them appearing around the corner in front of the stage for the best encore I’ve seen in ages. The beauty of brass is that it doesn’t need to be plugged in. I could have watched them all day.

I skipped over to the Regeneration Stage to see what turned out to be my highlight of VF26. Bristol funk collective Lords of Veg Funk are another eight‑piece, but this one is VERY different.

Explicitly advertised as adults‑only, this being my first time I wondered why. I found out. This is the Church of Veg, here to help us save the world. They cram the tiny stage with veg members like peas in a pod, leading us in a sermon, reading from the holy veg bible. This is a safe space for veg.

If this were a shop, it would be an independent religious greengrocer in heaven, spreading love, soil and, it turns out, freaky‑funky semi‑nakedness as the band remove their green robes and whip the crowd with leeks.

They get punky and heavy with anti‑fast‑food anthems as they rage against waste. Everywhere I look, people are getting down like veggies in the ground. Must see again.

The night ends with my silent‑disco dancing shoes on as children and adults ignore bedtime and dance their way into tomorrow.

Sunday offers one last push after a big weekend, although for many arriving fresh that day, it seems the fun is only just starting. Extra coffee is needed as my Sunday starts with Beans on Toast opening the Lake Stage.

Jay is a beaming natural storyteller. He’s barefoot and full of acoustic songs about peace, love, and festivals. These are direct folk songs that challenge us to take action, fall in love and look after each other.

It’s political, it’s poignant, making you think, smile and cry all in the same set: a storytelling masterclass.

Henge arrive from another planet, bringing smiles and lessons of peace to us mere earthlings. They are what happens when you give aliens guitars. The idea is that the band are incredibly talented aliens here to educate Earth through space rock from another dimension; they sound and look delightful.

Front Alien Zpor is wide-eyed and full of smiling space dust. Some wonder what is going on, some know exactly and revel in it. An interesting stage and setting to see them in, but it worked.

Over on the Greenpeace Stage, Bristol artist and Lords of Veg member Leo Nathan steps onstage, shedding his vegetable funk persona and wearing his folk on his sleeve with a dreamy, soulful acoustic set. A short performance full of rasping vocals fills the tent with a warm spiritual sound.

Providing continuity in soul, Nuala is up next – another Bristol‑based artist with a voice to stop you in your festival tracks. A powerful acoustic set of pure soul eases the strain of a seated, all‑ages, full festival tent.

After two shining star performances, the day goes from the sublime to the ridiculously anthemic as Oasish pack out the tent and are 100 per cent in character, with Liam flicking V’s and striking the trademark pose in his white parka.

In front of me, festival owner Luke Hasell belts out Cigarettes & Alcohol, loud and proud, arms aloft, relishing the moment. He’s then seen on stage after the set with a croaky message of thanks to us all for coming.

As I leave, Fisherman’s Friends’ deep, joyful Cornish harmonies ring out around the valley.

Valley Fest 2026 – you have been an epic mix of family fun, musical discoveries, and memories. I’ll be back.