Earlier this year Trailer Park opened its doors a couple of inches to see if there was anyone out there who wanted to get involved, to bring their own caravan or mobile home dream to life, and host it at the Electric Picnic. One hundred and twenty lunatics responded, and now we don't know what to do.
So whoever is responsible for the see-saw with a caravan on each end, or the dumper-truck monster, or the re-birthing betty 'vagina' caravan, or the Flintstone cave, or the upside-down Caravanaoke, or the fifties rockabilly club in a milk float, or the giant victorian diving bell, or the Ganesh Elephant van, thanks a fecking lot: we'll get back to you.
After two years of Trailer Park paying modest homage to the humble caravan, the glittering airstream, the vaudeville circus van, the game is up. It has now become the Montparnasse of the Picnic, a home for people with a constant stream of impractical but passionate ideas about how the world could be. This vintage vacation park has hit the absinthe, and the result makes no sense but its fabulous.
At its centre, a stunning theatrical enclosure made of joined-up, stacked campers, vintage caravans, mobile homes, vintage and retro trailers, the whole area will now be significantly expanded to create an eccentric community of performers, stylers, feeders and imbibers, miniature restaurants, wacky clinics and oddball theatres.
The CARAVAN STAGE
hosts bands in the living room, bedroom, kitchen and lavatory of a mobile home - a vaudevillian carnival cabaret which brings together exotic hula dancers, contortionist , burlesquettes, acrobat clownsters, and a cluster of three-legged dogs. THE TRAILER PARK TEA GIRLS
will fill you in on the gossip while you have a cuppa; THE FOOT HOSPITAL
is where folks sink into a deckchair with the newspapers, while plunging their tired feet into a hot seaweed bath; DUBLIN VINTAGE FACTORY
will provide trailer park makeovers (guys: clip in mullets; trucker hats; handle-bar moustaches; girls: false lashes; quiffs; gum and beauty spots) and then wheel out rails of 50s, 60s, 70s, and 80s vintage clothing to sift through... and find the new you. UNCLE EARLS PHOTO SHACK
will be on standby to make sure you never forget it. THE MOVEMBER CLINIC
will offer gents (hell, ladies too) facial hair suggestions and furnish them with hairy lip-limpets to wear for the day. JIMMY LEE'S JUKE JOINT
will serve up authentic gumbo while someone miakes light work of a washboard.
Complete with picket fencing, trellis-work, flamingos, gaudy colours, retro sun-loungers, roaring braziers, frilly curtains, our bar-staff dressed in fluffy negligees with curlers will serve beers to anyone in a grubby white vest and a comb, and pina-coladas to anyone with orange cleavage and tattoos. Lamb barbeques will glow beneath palm trees, and the deck chairs will be out.
TRAILER PARK: there's no moving us on.