Latitudinal Bacchanalian Suffolk Sunrises by Tamara Cincik.

Next weekend a few friends and I, dear readers shall be frolicking in a corner of this blessed Isle, which is forever England. The government cuts are fierce and jobs are being lost – we even had a madman on the loose in the North with a shotgun and a mohawk haircut – England could feel like Mad Max on glue in its saddest sense. However this Summer has proved to be the most glorious in a decade: sparkly sunset evenings with friends on Primrose Hill watching the city glitter in the sunset distance, have set the tone for all that is wonderful about being here; basically when the sun shines England is awesome and magical and no-one need go anywhere else!

So with this optimistic spirit rousing carousing ditties in my heart and head, I shall plunge into festival fun-times next weekend at Latitude in Southwold: home to the most glorious beachy walk from Walberswick, homemade cinema and second-hand shop run by a few local eccentrics, so reason alone to take the two hour trip from London.

Southwold Cinema

Not only will my old friend Jonny Blue Eye be leading a host of free-spirit fairies through the forest, for a night of dress-up hedonism. Not only will there be music from acts as diverse as Laura Marling, violinist Nigel Kennedy playing by the lake, Belle and Sebastian, my personal driving road move music band Empire of the Sun and Florence and the Machine. There will also be a chance to catch up with the graduate fashion shows you might have missed last month: the cream of Chelsea and Central St Martins will be showing, while Coco de Mer will showcase a circus show of couture meets circus meets lingerie! I'm also pretty keen to see the new films by Toyin and Wendy Bevan being screened over the weekend.

Perhaps a highlight for me will be hearing Billy Bragg speak: I shook his hand in 1988: when as an earnest schoolgirl I bumped into him at a gig in Hammersmith (where the bus station now is!); having seen how he took on the BNP in his hometown this election, I would love to hear him speak on identity in the Literary Arena and perhaps if i am brave enough, even shake his hand once more!..

Twinkly lights across the Latitude lake.