Bad me last attended the local Latitude festival fully three years ago, tut-tut. All change this year as soon as they announced personal hero David Byrne on the bill: here, take my £115 for a day ticket. In fact I'll take another one for my Good Lady Wife, please! Not often I've already got my ticket in January, six months prior to the event. Probs a bigger and better line-up this time due to their 20th anniversary. Think I've done around 15 of those starting in 2008, which ain't bad.

Up past the weird new A12 Sizewell-related roundabouts, parked on the site at 10:25 and into the arena at 10:58, already a long and dusty walk. Security guy deliberately emptied G's water bottle but wasn't interested in mine. Me and her took our oaty flat whites into Listening Post for Danny Does The Crossword, apparently back for its 16th year in a row. Where have I been all that time? There's a bespoke cryptic crossword for the this year's festival and we, as an audience, have 40 minutes to solve it. Example: "Gram and two Es in the mix -- it's not enough (6)". Surprisingly entertaining, and fully completed by the crowd within 25 minutes. Is it going in?

Splitting up, I popped my head into a discussion of street trees at the bookshop tent next door before heading to the huge Second Stage tent for the Adam Buxton Band, in full swing with his large festival pass pinned to his beanie. Crowd loves him up there singing about tea towels and aided by his Metronomy buddies. Lunch time demands meeting at the stumpy tree opposite the merch stand: Middler and boyfriend waiting, eventually joined by G. back from a Gok Wan DJ set. As per a T-shirt I saw, Gok Is A DJ. As per, way too many choices so pick one and stick with it. Very much liked my Irish spice bag eaten like a grown-up at a very long picnic table. Avengers, disperse.

Away from prying familial eyes, treated myself to a £6 marshmallow cone. Had hoped to catch some of Flo & Joan but that comedy stage is first come first served, so onto some pleasing Mesadorm in the woods -- is that my wife over there? -- then grabbed a grassy spot near the Sunrise for the electronic hardness of Adult DVD. Would later find out that my wife was in there dancing away.

Left mid set to secure a good in-the-tent spot so saw a tiny bit of Courttia Newland whose novel was shortlisted for the Arthur C. Clarke prize. Managed to get best ever place, absolutely front and centre, for the arrival of Adam Buxton and Ivo Graham in their matching Stop Making Sense big suits. Who knew they were such Talking Heads nerds? Terrific fun with singalongs of This Must Be The Place and a big Psycho Killer to finish. Joyous.

Saw one and a half songs by Australians The Heart-Shaped Aces and wandered past Greenpeace Cafe for carrot & chia cake to sustain me through Shellectronica in which nice guy Steve Pretty plays a selection of synth-altered shells. After a quarter of an hour, G. said it was doing her head in; I stayed, flat on the grass, for the full duration. Caught final track by Brooki -- wow -- and bought a £14 lamb curry to nourish me as Alessi Rose did her thing about 200m away, going down a treat with a way younger audience.

First and only time to the mahoosive Obelisk stage, trying and failing to find wife/daughter "near a pink and purple flag". Come 9:30pm and here's the main man, David Byrne, accompanied by a dozen or so musicians and dancers: the future's bright, the future's orange. Wasn't sure he still had it in him -- I'd seen him live in Cambridge in 1994, over 30 years ago -- yet he totally does. He sings, he dances, he makes the world a better place. "We stayed in Norwich," he said. Fine City, I thought. Houses In Motion one of many highlights for me but what a way to end with Burning Down The House. Stunning show.

That 11pm curfew isn't a great time for those of us with poor night-time vision. Follow the crowd, I thought. Down the slope, I thought. Ooh, donuts! And so it was that I brought a bag of fried pastries to various grateful family members at the stumpy tree before we did one last thing for me, namely to check out Gilles Peterson in the woods. Another top man, there with his mate Rob G., doing his stuff on the decks. Shame we were all so v. tired. Said goodbyes to daughter (doing the whole weekend), left the arena at 00:30 and found the trusty VW at 01:15 after another long walk. Pretty good day.

...and still missed Goodbye, Clara Mann and Theatre.