Grandma Tilda went to her first bush doof at 65.
Having spent most of her adult years bringing up her four children as a suburban housewife, she had never even set foot in a nightclub.
But her son Sean felt Tilda, full name Clotilde Vassallo, was "a non-practising hippy" and convinced her to go to her first Rainbow Serpent Festival – a four-day multi-staged electronic music event held on a farm near Beaufort in western Victoria.
Her grandson Ziv gave her a tour on the Saturday night, stopping to watch a cabaret performance and meet new friends at the chai tent.
"We're waiting back at camp," her daughter-in-law Michelle says. "It's one o'clock, Tilda's not back. It's two o'clock, Tilda's not back."
"I walk back and I'm walking in quietly and they're asleep," Tilda says, "And here I am walking in at 3am."
Tilda was hooked.
By her second Rainbow, the grandmother of seven really discovered her groove.
"She was dragging me back to the dancefloor, saying 'just one more, track, one more track'," Sean says. "I couldn't believe it."
Now 71, Tilda will be attending her sixth Rainbow, which kicks off on Thursday for the 20th time.
The festival is now a family affair for the Vassallos, who go together every year, including with Michelle and Sean's youngest, seven-year-old Kaelan, who has been every year since he turned one.
The internationally renowned festival, which will be attended by 16,000 people this year and was sold out in September, began with just 300 hundred people in a forest clearing in 1998.
Although Rainbow's dancefloors are a writhing mass of hedonistic pleasure, the festival has evolved with a strong sense of community, and stories such as that of the Vassallos are not unusual.
There is now a family camping ground and kids' space, along with workshops, art galleries and installations, seminars, clothes and food stalls, and a cinema attracting a varied crowd.
"We have multiple generations of families that come," communications director Tim Harvey says.
"I've seen children grow up at Rainbow. It really is like a long-term dysfunctional family."
Once the domain of pumping psychedelic trance music, the festival now showcases a diverse range of electronic musicians and bands.
Along with five stages, there are "themed campsites" in the camping grounds, which have their own dancefloors, DJ line-ups and elaborate decor – with one even boasting a rollerskating rink.
For those who have been long-standing attendees, passion for the festival often runs deep.
There are weddings held at the event every year, it has spawned its own greeting – "Happy Rainbow" –and costumes for the market stage on "Mad Monday" can be months in the making.
"For a lot of people, it's like their new year: the delineation between each year and the next is coming to Rainbow," Mr Harvey says.
"People come with the expectation it's going to be an incredibly special event. It's a self-fulfilling prophecy."
Tilda Vassallo's job over the years has been to take Kaelan home on Sunday mornings, so Michelle and Sean, who met at Rainbow on a Sunday nine years ago, can spend the day together.
Last year this proved to be a bit difficult.
"She did not want to leave the dance floor," Sean says.
"[DJ] Ace Ventura was killing it and she's like 'neer neer neer'," Michelle says, pretending to be Tilda dancing.
So this year, with Ziv's 21st birthday on the Sunday, Tilda is staying on.
"I just love the music," she says.
"There's so much to do and see, that's what I like about it."
Every year she gets in later, says Sean. "It's going to be sunrise and you'll be rocking back."