August 5, 2025 |
It began, as all good things should, with the scent of woodsmoke and cedar. I wouldn’t have been surprised if a man in an Afghan coat had offered me a cacao energy booster like it was sacred medicine – there was a stall inside that sold them. Somewhere in the distance a tribal hum drifted over the soft thump of a hand drum. Children played barefoot near the firepit, trousers rolled above the ankle, while tie-dye-clad parents – also barefoot – exchanged kombucha recipes beside a taxidermy badger on loan from the Ashdown Forest Society. Welcome to Good Vibrations Society – the humble little festival in the Sussex wilds where artisanal coffee carts sit snugly beside vintage clothes rails, and herbalists tout their wares under banners reading “Sort Your Life Out.” Naturally.
Running from Friday August 1 to Sunday August 3, the wellness-focussed music festival blends grassroots charm with conscious living. This year’s edition’s workshops ranged from breathwork to tree wisdom, and yoga sessions that unrolled beside misty meadows each morning. Entry came with a reusable cup (sustainability wasn’t a feature here – it was a founding principle; there were even signs advertising the festival’s use of local recycling facilities) and pop-up pubs that served artisanal brews while tarot readers set up shop between sauna tents and flowy, second-hand finds. It was a weekend escape marked by a curated collision of incense, intention and the distinct aroma of self-discovery. Good vibes only? Of course. Good vibrations? Absolutely. Here are the key takeaways from the weekend.
The Setting
Stepping into Good Vibrations Society felt like wandering into a forest fairy’s fever dream. Fairy lights strung between Ashdown’s birch and beech trees cast a soft glow, while immersive, trippy soundscapes by Plantfood and other featured artists rolled through the woodland air. A few too many drinks lent a gentle haze to the evening, and everything shimmered – music, movement, even the trees themselves.
There were no mosh pits here, just crowds comfortably scattered across open fields and forest clearings, lounging on the grass and vibing to the music. Even the security looked relaxed, swaying slightly as if the rhythm worked its way up to their hips.
A coalition of neo-hippies gathered among the bristling trees of Ashdown Forest, decked in felt antlers, fox-ear hats, flower crowns and flowing harem pants. It was Saltburn-coded in its aesthetic, minus the ‘eat the rich’ edge – all good vibes, no sharp corners.
Between sets, gospel vocals drifted from The Root tent, mingling with the distant hum of gongs and other world instruments. Vegan skincare stalls sat beside hand-carved instruments and herbal remedies. One vendor was scooping handmade “chill gelato” – the salted peanut was unforgettably good.
The Staging
The magic of Good Vibrations Society wasn’t confined to the woods alone – it was mapped across a series of imaginatively curated spaces that gave the festival its heartbeat.
The Warren was perhaps the most whimsical of all: a makeshift grotto built from stacked hay bales and peppered with pulsing neon lights, where you could stumble into a surprise DJ set or settle in for an unplanned hour of conversation and beats.
At the centre of it all stood The Bloom Stage, the festival’s main arena, where headliners cast their sonic spells. As the name suggests, it bloomed – literally – with bold, exuberant floral installations climbing around the scaffolding, giving each performance the air of a pagan ritual wrapped in petals.
For those seeking stillness between sets, The Root offered sanctuary. A yoga haven nestled under canvas, it hosted sessions in Vinyasa flow, the art of acro yoga and breathwork.
Nearby, Branches served as the festival’s mind-expanding hub. Talks on neurodiversity, tree wisdom and ecology unfolded here, the speakers framed by the very trees that inspired their themes. One standout moment: a children’s reading of Winnie-the-Pooh, a nod to A. A. Milne, who famously drew inspiration from the Ashdown Forest itself – the very ground beneath everyone’s feet.
The Nest thrummed with creativity. From printmaking and poetry workshops to quizzes, singing circles and performances by artists like Fukushima Dolphin, Callum Kenworthy and Star Print Clad, it was a place to make something – or simply witness the making.
And for younger festival-goers, The Hive offered endless adventure. From face painting and kids yoga to storytelling, woodcraft and good old-fashioned show and tell, it was a youngin’s paradise, nestled safely within the larger festival dream.
The Wellness
Wellness was at the beating heart of the festival. It all began, fittingly, with an opening cacao ceremony, grounding everyone into the space with warm, sacred sips and a communal sense of intention. From there, the wellness programming unfolded like a ritual in motion. Those aforementioned yoga classes filled the forest floor – everything from Yin Yang flows to Vinyasa and acro yoga. Fitness seekers rose early for a forest-fringed 5K run, while others took a gentler route through breathwork workshops, mindful movement or joining the Good Vibes Choir, a community-led collective where anyone could drop in and sing their soul out.
Across the grounds, vendors offered everything from vegan skincare to herbal remedies and handmade tonics, with every stall infused with the kind of intentionality you’d expect from a festival that treats wellness not as a trend, but a foundation.
But the real centrepiece – the wellness zone’s bread and butter – was the spa experience. Tucked away in a more secluded glade, this leafy oasis featured a wood-fired sauna, hot tubs, showers and a series of oh-so-relaxing add-on treatments.
The Sets
While I only had the privilege of attending the final day of the festival, it was more than enough to catch the tail end of something special – a genre-blending journey through reggae, jazz, soul, country and more.
At The Bloom stage, the festival’s sonic centrepiece, the final-day headliners did not disappoint. Soul II Soul, the chart-topping British collective behind some of the UK’s most iconic reggae and soul grooves, delivered a nostalgic, dancefloor-shaking set that brought the crowd to their feet and kept them there.
Earlier, the stage had welcomed Plantfood, a six-piece electronic jazz collective from Leeds who blended experimental beats with tight brass work and unexpected tempo shifts.
There was also a standout set from New Forest-born jazz vocalist Caitlin and her band, Sol Collective, whose smooth, honey-drenched sound felt tailor-made for a lazy Sunday afternoon in the woods. Her voice was pure velvet – somewhere between Norah Jones and Erykah Badu – and it wrapped around the crowd like a soft breeze.
Meanwhile, over at The Warren, things took a different turn. The hay-bale-lined grotto came alive with the groovy DJ sets of Rafiki, Cosmic Adam, Deejave and EMG Sounds. Their sets were eclectic, trancey and textured – the kind of music that doesn’t just make you dance, but kind of reprograms your limbs.
Photography courtesy of Good Vibrations Society.
