Well, to use a hackneyed tabloid headline: “Phew, what a scorcher”.

For those that were there, the 2003 model of Fairport Convention’s annual festival will be remembered mainly for the weather it was the sunniest and hottest Cropredy for many a year.

But this year’s gathering will also remember it for the quality of music on offer. Before things kicked off late on Thursday afternoon, there had been much debate as to whether the booked bands and artists would be able to pass muster particularly after last year’s strong line-up to mark the host band’s 35th anniversary. By midnight on Saturday, however, as the last notes of Fairport Convention’s signature song “Meet on the ledge” drifted away on the hot night air, most were agreed that festivalmeister Dave Pegg had, once again, pulled the rabbit from the hat.

The honour of opening the event fell to local band Colvin Quarmby. It was a good choice as their set of original songs was warmly received by a good-sized crowd.

Next up were Meet on the Ledge, definitely not a tribute band, despite taking their name from Richard Thompson’s anthemic song. The five-piece turned in a powerful mix of originals and covers, including a tremendous reading of Peter Knight’s “The song will remain”. The importance of the gig to the band was summed up by guitarist Allen Maslen’s comment: “We’ve played in venues smaller than this stage!”

Some stomping, pub-rock and blues, featuring a muscular version of Warren Zevon’s “Werewolves of London”, from The Trevor Burton Band provided the final warm-up for first-night headliners Lindisfarne. The Geordies’ mix of classic and new songs laced with regular lashings of self-deprecating humour soon had the crowd on their side. Starting with “Fog on the Tyne”, the two-hour set included a wonderful “Winter song”, an atmospheric “Lady Eleanor” and, a personal favourite from the current line-up, “Unmarked car”. It was a happy first-night crowd that returned to their tents.

Friday dawned bright and sunny and the temperature soon climbed to regulo seven. Opening act of the day was The Mark Gillespie Band; despite hailing from Manchester, this was Gillespie’s first gig in his homeland and his warm, rough-hewn voice, good songs and tight band make him a dead cert for future success.

The madcap, 100mph humour of Keith Donnelly followed and, within a minute or so of his taking the stage, he’d leapt from the front of it and was chasing three blokes, who’d had the temerity to walk away across the music field. If any, other than that fleeing trio, failed to be won over by this amiably gifted nutter, they would definitely have succumbed by the end when, swapping T-shirt for leather jerkin and cap, he performed a hilarious pastiche of “YMCA” called “Folk festival”.

Young folk-rockers Equation filled a pleasant enough hour before the dry delivery, insightful lyrics and dextrous guitarring of David Hughes took over. The son of Essex was backed variously by Martin Brunsden, on double-bass and bowed saw, percussionist Gerry Conway, the slide guitar of PJ Wright and an ultra-talented girlie backing vocal quartet of Chris While, Helen Watson, Jacqui McShee and Julie Matthews.

The Bucket Boys. Never heard of ‘em? Neither had I, but I’m a convert. They were, quite simply, the revelation of the festival. Based in the West Country, they comprise two former members of Quiver, an ex-Charlie & The Wideboys and a drummer who’s played with everybody. They gave the crowd a set of what they describe as rural swing and R’n’Beebop. Rarely have I seen a band having, and giving, so much fun. Their version of “Drinking wine spo-dee-o-dee” alone was worth the price of admission and they received possibly the most enthusiastic encore call of the day.

Any band playing the popular songs of two of the 20th century’s greatest female singer/songwriters Joni Mitchell and Carole King is guaranteed to be a hit in front of any festival audience. When those songs are performed by Blue Tapestry, comprising Chris While, Julie Matthews, Pete Zorn, Neil Marshall and Maartin Allcock each an old Cropredy favourite they cannot fail. They promised much and they delivered, in spades.

To be honest, any band would have had difficulty following the reaction Blue Tapestry generated. That’s not to say, though, that Friday headliners Procol Harum took the stage with any lack of confidence. Far from it, they went about their job with complete professionalism, creating faithful replicas of all the old hits “A salty dog”, “Homburg”, “Conquistador” and, of course, “A whiter shade of pale”and doing justice to songs from their recently released “The Well’s On Fire” album. But it was, perhaps, all a little too earnest and, maybe, a band with a slightly lighter touch might have best suited the occasion.

If anything, Saturday was even brighter and hotter than Friday and Richard Digance, on stage at the crack of noon, took advantage of the crowd’s laid-back, heat-wearied demeanour to do what he does best stirring memories of days gone by and reducing his audience to tears. He opened last year’s Saturday, too, with a similar reaction the job could be his for life.

I first encountered The Mechanics nothing to do with Mike Rutherford fully 30 years ago when they played the old Radio 1 Saturday-evening “In Concert” show and they was fab. They rarely venture east across the Cornish county line and I was beginning to think I’d never get to see them live. Then, bless ‘im, Dave Pegg books them for Cropredy and my wait is over. Was I disappointed? Was I heck! Fantastic blues-rock band and, if ever you’re on holiday down Cornwall way and you see them booked for a village hall or pub back room, go see them. Al Hodge will make you believe guitar gods still stalk the Earth.

Another bunch of Geordies were next on the menu. The Hush, fronted by Bob Fox and Jed Grimes, performed a set based principally on their debut album, “Dark to the Sky” and Fox solo material. Their songs of the north-east gave proceedings a more noticeably folky feel to the afternoon.

Scotland’s Old Blind Dogs who are none of those things kept the traditional buzz going and, despite the wilting heat, soon had the enthusiastic crowd of stage-front jiggers doing their best to work off the festival-gained excess poundage.

Years on the scene playing with anybody who’s anybody does lend a fella a certain cachet and Albert Lee has a huge cache of cachet. Backed by Hogan’s Heroes, a band brimming with almost equal experience, he kept the Cropredy crowd completely enthralled. All that experience means Hogan’s Heroes are anything but a one-trick pony and the keys of Pete Wingfield and pedal steel of Gerry Hogan lifted some of the lead instrument responsibility from Lee’s fretboard. A set of standards was topped by what is probably Lee’s best-known song, “Country boy” which saw all five band members shine.

Dennis Locorriere may have been up on that stage with only his acoustic guitar for company, but the former Dr Hook & The Medicine Show front man had to be a strong contender for the title of loudest act of the weekend. His booking was probably one of those that initially raised the most eyebrows, but with songs from his recent solo album and a sprinkling of Dr Hook hits ­notably “Sylvia’s mother” “Cover of the Rolling Stone” and “Freakin’ at the Freakers’ Ball” he had the crowd happily and lustily singing along. I suspect he’ll be gracing the Cropredy stage again.

Of course, the main purpose of that stage is for host band Fairport Convention to return to their spiritual home and to play for their core of loyal fans. As ever, they turned in a marathon three-hour-plus set with songs spanning the years from the band’s late-‘60s birth. As ever, the Fairport crown was studded with the gems of special guest appearances, chief of which this year was what was described as The Dave Swarbrick Philharmonic when the veteran fiddle-player ran through a selection of songs from his new album backed by guitar, bass and a quartet of further violinists comprising Fairport’s Chris Leslie and Ric Sanders and husband and wife team Mike and Meg Burnham. Other guests included Steve Gibbons, Jacqui McShee, Chris While, her daughter Kellie and a young trumpet player, introduced only as Edmund. The band had heard him playing along to them from the audience at the previous week’s Cambridge Folk Festival and were so impressed they invited him to play with them, on stage, at their own “do”. His playing seamlessly fitted into and, indeed, enhanced the previously mentioned festival closer, “Meet on the ledge”.

And so another Cropredy ended. Against the odds, an eclectic collection of bands, in conjunction with the very best of Oxfordshire weather, had proved Fairport’s Dave Pegg, yet again, to be an astute judge of what constitutes a good festival line-up and maintained that special Cropredy atmosphere that you’ll find nowhere else. Well done, Peggy.