It's been a little bit of a while since I posted much at all about this years Glastonbury. I could have possibly written something about the line-up or about getting hold of our tickets or wondering about the weather: really any manner of things. But I don't actually know how this year is going to turn out and maybe in any event all that can wait for another time.
What I have been thinking about is all the the things that going to and being at Glastonbury means to me. I can't profess to be an expert in any way, shape or form about it. After all, I've only been three times. There are countless people who have been many, many more times than I have. They've probably seen it change drastically over the years and are well-versed regarding all the nooks and crannies that I've never been to or seen. Having said all that, the three times that I have been have been completely different for me each time.The first time I went with my 17 year-old daughter and her best friend, the second time I couldn't get a ticket yet ended up working a bar there and the third time (in 2013), I went solo. Possibly it's different each time anyway, but each time for me was completely unique in its own way. This time, in just a few weeks from now, I'll be going with my 24 year-old son for his very first Glastonbury and I'm sure it will be different once again.
Tied in with all of this are the reactions from friends, family and work mates when I tell them I'm going to Glasto. Sometimes I feel I should explain, or need to explain,what's so special about it, but I don't think that they really get it. It might be that it's just impossible to put it into words, but I'm going to try anyway.Here are just a few of the things (small things admittedly, but sometimes it is the small things that matter) that make it special.
Before I go any further and to avoid any accusations of looking at it through rose-tinted glasses, I am sure that there are things about Glasto that are far from perfect and I understand that it wouldn't be everyones' cup of Earl Grey. Yet for me, here we go, in no particular order...
The little things...
1. Being able to actually get a ticket. The excitement and the build-up and the sheer nervousness of the day(s) before they go on sale. The "will I be lucky?" feeling mixed with the "of course I won't be" pessimism. The sleepless night before and the mad refreshing of browser windows on the morning of the sale. And the sense of relief if and when you see that notification pop-up on your screen that "you have been successful in purchasing tickets" etc. (I don't really know what the exact words say as I've always been too excited.)
2. The handpainted bins done with love and care. All unique. It would be too easy for Glasto just to stick plain, unpainted, undecorated bins across the site, but they don't. As I say, its the small things that matter. Alongside this are all the signs, hand painted in the same font. Small things matter.
3. The sheer and vast variety of music on offer. If you are a music fan in any way at all, then it's akin to a small child being let loose in a sweet shop. To stretch the analogy too far, then you can listen to enough music to make yourself sick and then still go back the next day and do it all over again.
4. The people (1). Not the punters (yet) but all the people working there; running stalls, stewarding, serving food and all matter of other things. Possibly I've just been very lucky over my three years but I've yet to really meet any of them who has been less than friendly and who has seemed unhappy to be there. Everyone (and I'm scratching my head at this point) but it's true, everyone who I have ever talked to, or asked for help or assistance or simply just dealt with has been invariably cheerful. Must be something about the place.
5. The tranquility. Now this sounds a bit odd when you are lumped together with well over 100,000 other people but every year I have been in one place or another, either walking back to the car park, or tramping along some route or another between stages when I've looked around and there is not another soul to be seen. This hasn't happened very often, but it has happened every year at least once, and when it does, then it's the quietest and most relaxing place in the world.
6. Waking up there on your first morning and realising that you are at Glastonbury and not at home!
7. The food. The first time I went I was fully expecting to have to survive on half-warm hot dogs and dodgy burgers. This is something that everyone who's never been asks me about (after asking about the toilets and the mud, of course). I may not have the most sophisicated palate and I am far from being any sort of foodie, but it does for me. I've never gone hungry at Glasto or been unable to find anything to eat that didn't take my fancy.
8. The people (2). I'm writing about the punters here. Now this is a bit of a tricky one, because clearly with over so many different people being together at one place at one time then there are bound to be a fair share of what could be termed knobheads. (I'm talking about arseholes who are so pissed they barge into you without a word of apology and those who ignore the bins, think that it's perfectly fine to just throw whatever rubbish they feel fit to the floor and that it's someone elses job/problem to pick it up after them. This is before I touch upon the very small number of scallies who rob from tents or pick pockets.) However that would make this list degenerate into things I don't like about Glasto and that's not what its all about. No, the vast majority of people who go to Glasto are friendly, open and always ready for a chat. There's an incredible sense of communality and shared experience that you rarely get elsewhere.
9. Arriving. Just walking through those gates for the first time feels like going home. The weight of whatever has been on your shoulders over the past days, weeks and months seems to lift like magic.
10. Bit of an unexpected one to wrap it up and something that many Glasto-goers may not agree with. Leaving. Or the end of it all. That Sunday night/Monday morning feeling when you know it's all over and reality kicks back in. (Please bear with me re this). But...it wouldn't feel like that unless it had been so very special. And there's always going to be next year.
There are probably another 10 or 20 or more things I could have said about Glasto; and after this year I'm sure this list will have changed again. If you've been, then you've probably got your own and they are all wholly different to these. If you haven't been then, I'm sorry, but mere words can't really do it justice!
My two books about Glastonbury, "Turn Left at the Womble" and "Left Again at the Womble", are available here in both Kindle and paperback formats;
Third (and final book in the trilogy!) all about 2014 in preparation!
Aww, that's so lovely. This year will by my 10th (I think), I got tickets in the resale, resale so I know how bloody lucky I am - it's the first time I've ever struggled but realised nobody had a god given right. I thought we'd probably go to Cambodia instead, now I just can't wait to see those bins and the signs.
ReplyDeleteEvery year is different but those bins and those signs remain the same. My heart gave a little jump when I read about those.
Oh god, bring it on. Yeah, God really is a DJ. Have another wonderful one!
Thanks very much-glad it struck a chord!
DeleteMay well be more Glasto posts in the next few weeks...