Well as I’m sure you saw on the news, read in the papers and heard on the radio, this year was the wettest Glastonbury festival in seven years. Of course it was- that’s just my luck!
Having said that, it wasn’t as bad as the journo’s made out. Yeah it rained (and hailed, thundered and nearly flooded) but we also had spells of scorching sunshine too. In fact it was so hot I actually got sunburnt! So all in all, not a total washout! If it wasn’t for Robyn’s (it kills me to admit this….) genius idea of placing our 3 pop up tents under a 4×3 gazebo (which we put up in the dark, at midnight with no instructions may I add…) I’m sure we would have left resembling drowned rats with destroyed belongings. So if your at Glasto next year and spy a lot of gazebo/tent houses, you know who to applaud.
What surprised me most about Glasto was the sheer size of the place! It’s HUGE!! We definitely missed quite a few bands on our line up simply due to the time trekking from stage to stage, clinging onto each other for dear life. I was also shocked to see how close some camps are t the stages- and how much these camps got trampled on during the muddy drunken nights. I have never been so glad that we set up home in the dairy fields, which we did simply because we we too tired to walk any further. (Please note- walking the miles from your car, in the furthest car park, lugging a rucksack and a gazebo filled trolley whilst carrying 9 crates of beer, was not the most fun I’ve had in 2 hours. If this is you, take my advice and do multiple trips!!)
I enjoyed each and every artists we caught over the weekend, but I must admit to having three stand out, never forget moments.
1. Friday night, at sunset, swooning over Paolo Nutini, whilst he literally seduced me with Iron Sky. If I could of jumped on the man then and there I would have. The man is a god.
2. Saturday afternoon, blazing sunshine, cider tipsy, arms wrapped round fellow Rougette Kelly, as we both balled our eyes out to Lana Del Ray’s hauntingly beautiful Born To Die. Now I’m no regular crier, especially in public, but something happened in those few minutes, what it is, I don’t know. But it’s definitely MY Glasto moment.
3. Sunday night, stone cold sober (designated driver issues!) dancing like a lunatic to every single Kasabian track. My god these boys are good live! Certainly the best way to end a weekend like no other!
So Glasto, you got me, I’ve caught the bug. And boy will I be back.