The minute you begin your journey down to Stradbally, you know you're in for a different festival experience.

Instead of the usual gangs of teenagers shouldering crates of whatever beer is being sold at €8 for the six-pack, there are twenty and thirtysomethings carrying wine and the more expensive lagers in reusable eco bags.

The runners, tracksuits and soccer and GAA jerseys give way to red corduroy trousers, fashionably ragged footwear and the jaunty porkpie hats so beloved of the bohemian brigade.

For 'Leccy Picnic', as it's known to fans, is for the more mature music lover -- ones who say they care more and who look down on the little 'uns who flock to that annual Oxegen free-for-all in Punchestown.

"Do you know?" asked one beardy of another as they waited on Custom House Quay in Dublin to board a bus to Laois at midday yesterday, "when I was going to Oxegen, there were kids drunk everywhere at this stage."

Despite some heavy traffic on approach routes yesterday, 29,000 revellers of the 35,000 sell-out capacity were on site by six o'clock, even though some had to jump ditches to get to the car park.

And -- gasp -- the sun was there to extend a welcome to Picnic-goers. The dry conditions were a relief for organisers and fans alike after a flurry of internet rumours earlier this month forced the promoters to deny the festival was about to be cancelled due to flooding at the site.

The boutique music festival has had a run of good luck when it comes to the weather since it debut in 2004.

And while it always seems to rain at Oxegen, the Picnic's bigger and brasher rival, promoter John Reynolds has traditionally had his weather mojo working for his annual end-of-summer bash. "It's looking good, if we can trust the forecasters," said Mr Reynolds as the gates opened yesterday.

In the five years since it was first held in the grounds of Stradbally House, Co Laois, the eco-friendly festival has established a reputation as a venue where intellectual discussion meets musical mayhem and where every taste is catered for.

If you've had your fill of the music -- acts gracing the various stages include the Sex Pistols, Franz Ferdinand, Goldfrapp, Sigur Ros and My Bloody Valentine -- you can take in an afternoon in the Leviathan marquee and chinwag with the likes of David McWilliams and Booker Prize-winning author Anne Enright.

Or why not sample the culinary delights provided by Derry Clarke and Dylan McGrath? Afterwards, head to the Body and Soul area and knock on the door to nowhere, glimpse the freaks in the Lost Vagueness tent or take up Nana Knitwell's offer to teach you how to "knit away the menopause".

"This year, it's got back to its roots," said Joanne Hynes (25) from Tuam.

"You're less likely to get your tent set on fire here."

Joanne and her friend Karina Healy have "recycled" a tent left on site by a camper last year and are putting in to good use in 2008.

John McCarthy from Limerick was enjoying what is only his second ever concert. The 30-year-old, who sells vehicles to the US Army in numerous Middle Eastern countries including Iraq, has only Joe Dolan live in the community centre in Caherconlish in 2006 to measure against the likes of Underworld, Sigur Ros, Goldfrapp and the Sex Pistols.

"I came back for a holiday," said John. "I'm only here since last night and I've been looking forward to meeting my family and going to the Electric Picnic."

Down in Stradbally with her family is Tara Smyth from Castlebar, who was busy dancing with her five-year-old daughter Siva to Kila on the main stage yesterday evening.

She also brought her seven-year-old son Se and two-year-old Oran, as well as her partner Seamus McDonald.

"We've been down here since two o'clock," said Tara. "It was a long journey but it's very good. We were here two years ago when Oran was just young. It's a lot better organised this year. The kids area is excellent and has nice decorations and that kind of thing."

Away from the normal campsites is the boutique area, where the accommodation on offer includes tepees, lorry trailers dressed up as ships, horse carts and pimped out buses.

"We should have went to IKEA," said Alan Whelan from Stillorgan, who was sweating while pumping up inflatable beds for his companions Tara Madden and Charlis Hughes in their huge tepee.

"We're poshing it up," said Karen Hobson from her neighbouring tepee.

But no matter how posh you choose to get, even at a boutique festival, there's always one common denominator.

In Electric Picnic's case, it's the industrial metal toilets with miniature cardboard signs sellotaped on, the marker scrawl of "girls" and "boys" the only indicator of where to park your posterior.

There's no poshing those up.