The problem with festivals, a non-believer once told me, is that they are full of lager-swilling, noisy, antisocial louts who are only there for an excuse to sit in a field all day drinking beer.

She had obviously never been to Wood, possibly the nicest music festival ever dreamed up - and with the nicest festival goers.

On paper it sounds almost unbearably worthy - a festival run entirely on renewable energy sources, with acoustic, folky music broken up by intervals of intense knitting and crocheting.

Edgy it aint.

But in actual fact, the Bennett brothers have come up with what could possibly be the best festival out there.

On a much smaller scale than the festival behemoths of Reading and Glastonbury, and indeed far more intimate even than its big brother Truck, Wood manages to do exactly what it aims to do - provide really good music, with an audience of lovely people in peaceful, relaxing surroundings.

Mellow, relaxed and really rather good is probably the best way to lump together the bulk of the acts playing at Wood's second outing, with a little sprinkling of stardust from some of the bigger names like Dodgy - who supplied a few crowd-pleasing numbers from back in the day such as Britpop anthem Good Enough, Staying out for the Summer, and classic In a Room.

But such was the local atmosphere that more people in the crowd - entreated to come a little closer by frontman Brian Briggs - were word perfect to Oxford favourites Stornaway than Britpop favourites Dodgy.

Jali Fili Cisshoko, from the exotic surroundings of, umm, Witney, provided a bit of world music to broaden the horizons of the gently swaying festival fans, while a touch of lively colour was provided by Tandara Mandara, purveyors of the finest brand of frenetic gypsy fiddling from Eastern Europe. Despite their Oxfordshire roots.

Karine Polwart was hauntingly beautiful and Danny the Champ - another Oxon favourite - provided lovely lyrical singalongs.

And there was nothing you wouldn't feel unhappy about having your children listening to, making the festival's family-friendly boast well-earned.

Cunningly, the bands were all scheduled so there was not a single clash - you either listened to the music or didn't, took part in that round of workshops or went off for a cup of tea (organic and Fairtrade, obviously).

From virtually anywhere on the site, the strains of whoever was on the main stage could be heard, providing a gorgeous melodic backdrop at all times.

The beauty of the festival was precisely in its size - the woman you met in the pizza queue at midnight to discuss welly styles was likely to be the same person leading your shadow-puppet making workshop the following day.

The barrier between artist and performer was blended more than at perhaps any other festival, with no poncey backstage areas to retreat to.

There is something quite surreal about joining in a maypole dancing workshop with singer songwriter Sam Isaac just a few hours after cheering along to him on stage.

Though, for the record, his singing was infinitely preferable to his maypole dancing!