Music-lover Natalie Bowen spent a weekend at a music festival to see some top bands, comedians, storytellers... and its famous multi-coloured sheep.

“Please don’t rain, please don’t rain, please don’t rain” was the mantra running through my head as I scrambled to unpack groundsheets, pegs and tent poles.

Little did I realise that two days later I would be dancing in the middle of a thunderstorm, gloriously disregarding the fat drops soaking through my clothes. Such is the power of a music festival.

Although I am not a regular camper, usually preferring the comforts of a proper bed and hot shower, this year I made an exception for Latitude festival.

It’s one of the UK’s smaller arts and music gatherings and is firmly aimed at families: no tent-burning youths allowed.

For one weekend every July, around 35,000 people gather at the usually private Henham Park country estate in Southwold, Sussex, pitch temporary homes over its grassy acres and cross its lake to enjoy poetry readings, dance recitals, literary debates, stand-up comics and, of course, lots and lots of music.

While there is not quite something for all tastes – the UK’s biggest such event, Glastonbury, has shocked its diehard attendees in recent years by booking rapper Jay-Z and heavy metal band Metallica as headliners – Latitude puts on a varied collection.

Rock, pop, indie, folk and alternative are the main music genres, with a healthy dose of dance and the occasional bizarre, difficult-to-catagorise band.

Yet the best thing about this event is its atmosphere, with plenty of unusual activities and unexpected gems to satisfy a curious explorer with no plans for the afternoon.

After managing to get the tent up, and even constructing a convivial gazebo under which to share barbecues and cocktails with the small group of friends I travelled with, we headed to the main area to explore.

While passing through the wristband checkpoint our bags were searched for any contraband alcohol and I was impressed by the ingenuity of some visitors.

As well as cans of beer tucked inside wellies, one hopeful had hidden a bottle inside a tube of Pringles, then stacked the crisps back on top. Sadly, the eagle-eyed official wasn’t fooled.

Giant papier mâché flowers welcomed us to the festival site, marking a chill-out area with cafes and booths offering head massages and foot rubs.

Next to Latitude’s iconic bridge with its multicoloured sheep was the Waterfront stage, built above the lake and hosting a collection of dance and classical music performances: including a fantastic Dirty Dancing Highlights set.

High above the youth section rose a candy cane helter-skelter, seductively off-limits to adults, while deep in the woods on the other side of the site lurked the I Arena, hidden among nooks filled with pianos and even a secret cinema.

Most of the first day flashed by in a series of snapshots: elbowing my way into the packed Comedy Tent to giggle along with Irish comic Dara O’Briain; belting out Milkshake with Kelis on the Obelisk Arena’s main stage; enjoying Billy Bragg’s burning desire to put the world to rights.

Giant papier mâché flowers welcomed us to the festival site, marking a chill-out area with cafes and booths offering head massages and foot rubs

If anyone has yet to hear his song Handyman Blues, I recommend it as an ode to the modern man’s troubles.

But back to that rain.

The clouds were nowhere in sight while Swedish sisters First Aid Kit were performing, but started slowly gathering late into Saturday afternoon, as I wandered around the Faraway Forest arts area and spent a happy half-hour being told stories in a shed.

As darkness fell I joined the clubbers dancing to a freaky yet fantastic set by Scandinavian electronica artists Royksopp & Robyn in the BBC 6 Music Arena, Latitude’s ‘second stage’.

Saturday night’s headliner was former Blur frontman Damon Albarn, and as I had missed spiky pop singer Lily Allen the night before, I headed out to catch the encore.

Just as the storm hit. Lightning crackled across the sky behind the stage, thunder drowned out Albarn’s tambourine, and the crowd went wild.

Thousands of people bellowing Blur’s hit single Tender seemed strangely apt as the rumbling provided an impromptu bassline: “Come on, come on, come on, get through it, come on, come on, come on, love’s the greatest thing.”

Sunday seemed subdued after that, although it didn’t help that Manchester band James disappointed the lunchtime crowd by playing predominently new tunes and only a handful of hits from their 30-year career.

Leafing through the three-centimetre-thick programme showed I missed many more acts than I would have liked, but with a festival’s clashing fixture list that was inevitable.

Punk fashion designer Vivienne Westwood passed me by, as did all the performers in the Cabaret Arena, but I managed to catch a couple of talks and events in the Film and Theatre tent.

American singer Valerie June put on a fantastic set of gospel-infused folk, amusingly interspersed with the revelation that her ukulele wants to be “as big a star as Beyonce”, and hot young band Haim got the mood going at the Obelisk Arena ahead of blues-rock duo The Black Keys who headlined the final night.

No rain this time, just happy, tired people squeezing the last drop of enjoyment out of a weekend well spent.

We dropped by Keith Allen’s Establishment Club on the way back to the tents, where Lily Allen’s dad was hosting a variety of big names until the small hours.

As most of the action was over we didn’t stay long and were called a very rude name indeed when he noticed us leaving.

Still, it showed he cared about keeping the vibe going, and gave us something to laugh about while packing all the gear away the next morning.