Everything started pleasantly enough. Well, as pleasant as any festival usually starts, being cattle herded onto an over packed train shouting ‘I’m going to Glastonbury, I’m going to Glastonbury or in my case, ‘They’re taking the Hobbits to Glastonbury!’ complete with an over-excited, mesmerizing dance.
After much faffing and bribing a member of my party with the promise of free alcohol and cake, my tent was finally erect and I was off to explore Pilton Farm and the many varieties of wonder and sin it had to offer.
The wonder began in the GreenFields. Although I’ve been to Glastonbury twice before, The Greenfields are still wonderful and practically perfect in everyway: a place I shall never be tired of visiting. You can chill in a Yurt whilst listening to a man with a very long beard play something that looks like a guitar. You can buy elderflower champagne; make things with felt, clay, wood, and stone. You can also buy some pretty amazeballs organic food, which is better than any crappy over-priced burger and chips you normally find at Festivals.
After the Greenfields came of course the music. Starting in the Beat Hotel, where I danced my little muddy socks off to J Goddard. Moving swiftly onwards to the delights of the Arctic Monkeys where Alex ‘Newly Turned Mod’ Turner did his best to imitate Elvis but still looked cool and rather attractive. The Vaccines pulled out some of their best pop ditties, whilst a new discovery of mine, Laid Blak kept the mood festive with some pretty upbeat reggae.
Now we all know that the most talked of band of the festival were the Rolling Stones. To be fair, they were very good indeed. There was one point however were Mick Jagger left the stage and put Keith Richards in charge. This made me ponder whether Keith and others had lied to Jagger, telling him there was an interval so they could all have a little time to shine. The show was, all in all quite special. My personal favourite moment came in singing along to ’ You Can’t Always Get What You Want’ rather drunk, alone, in a compost toilet.
The beauty of Glastonbury however lies in the spectacular venues and various areas it sets aside for after hours. Shangri-La being truly mind blowing. I have never taken LSD but going to Shangri-La is very much what I imagine it to be like. Utterly mind blowing, helped by the fact that Hypnotic Brass Ensemble took the Hell stage. It was a surreal experience in the extreme, but definitely a memory that will go in the happy mind bank.
And who could forget Arcadia, with it’s insanely large fire blowing spider, complete with a different DJ every night, or Block 9 which involved travesties’ dancing on top of a hotel, before being ushered into a club which had an underground train sticking out it. Or perhaps the piece de resistance, Stone Circle, where one could spend the early hours of the morning in peace and tranquillity whilst dealers ask if you would like some shrooms every ten seconds.
Alas, all good things must come to and end and before I knew it I was bleary eyed and packing my bags to avoid another cattle ride home. I failed in this and spent a two hour train ride home, sleeping in the aisle of train, but God dammit it was worth it. There are no real words to describe Glastonbury and it’s truly epic nature, so I shall just leave on this note: I love you Michael Eavis. Thank you for letting us use your farm. It was very nice of you indeed.