Books - and copies of The Guardian - were everywhere, although the sponsorship and presence of Sony, who were attempting to flog their e-reader, provided a vague challenge to such paper-based gaity.
Providing my brain with exercise were, in this order: James Marsh (director of one of 2008's films of the year, Man on Wire) and Adrian Chinn (producer of etc etc), Graham Swift, Chris Patten, David Simon, Kate Summerscale and Simon Schama. Hey, Swifty, can you sign my digitally downloaded copy of Last Orders, please? Just scratch your name onto the screen with this scalpel, it's fine.
When Macca, my companion for the weekend, wasn't snacking on sugary treats - the man's sweet tooth, I discovered, was insatiable - he was raving about The Field. The Field was not, as you might have thought, David Simon's idyllic follow-up to The Corner and The Wire, but an actual field next to the festival grounds, filled with a host of golden, um, buttercups, several easygoing cows, and much peacefulness.
[Checks for udders.]
In the evening a light pointed to at top of this tree, making it look eerily like an enormous piece of broccoli. I don't like broccoli, but I liked this tree.
In summary, then: see you next year.