Some (more) pre-Glastonbury thoughts
My last post touched
upon a few things that made the Glastonbury Festival special for me and since I
wrote it, I’ve been pondering if there was anything I missed out on. If there
was anything that was so obvious that I overlooked. Of course there is! It’s so
vast and diverse that I would be bound to not cover everything. So here’s just
a few more that I hope ring true; or at least find some of you nodding in
slight agreement. These are purely personal and can only relate to the (limited)
number of times I’ve been. Once again, they aren’t in any order of significance
or importance and really are just what has popped into my head. I’m sure there’ll
be more after this June.
1. Tickets
(again!). This is quite timely and appropriate as our tickets for this year
turned up yesterday. There’s a special feeling when you actually have them in
your hand as opposed to having that simple e mail confirmation. Waiting for the
post to turn up on the day you’re expecting them is a matter of twitching the
curtains back and forth, sticking your head outside your front door countless
times to see if the postie is walking down your street and wanting to rip the
ticket out of his hand as soon as you catch a glimpse of him. There’s also the
conversation that goes along the lines of “What time DOES the post normally
turn up?” When you do get them it all suddenly becomes very real and is simply
just down to the fact that you have a ticket with your photograph on it. Then
there is the issue of where are you going to keep your tickets safe in your
house as well as the passport-holiday-type panic on the way down i.e. “have you
got the tickets?” A nice problem to have.
2. That Friday feeling.
Although the Festival gates open on the Wednesday and there’s always plenty to
see and do on the Wednesday and Thursday, I still have a weird feeling that it
doesn’t really kick off until the Friday morning. I know that this doesn’t make
much sense and I probably wrong but waking up on the Friday morning gives me a
here-we-go moment.
3. TV. Watching
in all back on TV when you get home, having made sure someone has recorded it
for you. I’m just glad there are now TiVo and Sky boxes and I do not have to mess
around with video tapes.
4. Going on and
on about it. Tied in with the TV above. “Was it good? Did you enjoy it?” I’m
sure we’ve all had those questions from family, friends and work colleagues,
but you can’t really explain it all. Doesn’t stop me trying however.
5. Dogs. This
only struck me last year and probably just because we had just got a dog
ourselves, but I’d guess Glasto is one of the only places you can be for nearly
a week and not see or hear a dog. Or a cat.
6. Colours. (This
is all getting a bit abstract here.) Glastonbury is a riot of colours, even on
the greyest, rainy day even when everywhere is muddy. Maybe it’s something to
do with the light or the bins or all the flags, but somehow all your senses
seem to be heightened at Glasto. (Am I straying too much into mystical stuff at
this point?)
7. Walking. Back
to reality. Being a natural lazy person, I never walk so much at any time of
the year as when I do at Glastonbury. There is a lot of walking involved and
every year I think to myself that I should really use the car/bus/train less
and that this walking lark isn’t all too bad. I also have an eye on being a bit
fitter for the next year. Never works out; it certainly hasn’t this time. If
you are there this time and see a bald-middle aged type chap (not narrowing it
down exactly here, am I?) looking completely knackered after walking up a
slight incline, then there’s a fair chance it might just be me.
8. Time. Not getting
too mystical again I hope, but time is a bit of a fluid concept at Glasto for
me. It’s all practical. Possibly because it’s a bit like being on holiday and
away from home or work and the humdrum daily things; and you are like that on
holiday anyway, but there’s definitely a sense of “did we only do that this
morning or was it yesterday?” Allied with this is that last day of holiday
sensation but to the nth degree when on sometime on the Sunday you realise that
that it’s nearly all over for another year. And that’s if you can get tickets
for the next year.
9. I wish I’d
gone earlier. I wish I hadn’t waited until I was nearly 50 before I made it my
first time.
10. Home.
Slightly at odds with all the above, but bear with me please. I may just love my
home comforts too much or simply be at a certain age, but there is nothing that
can replicate that feeling of getting back into your own (comfy) bed on your
first night home and sleeping the sleep of the truly knackered. And truly
happy.
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;
and
Third (and final book in the trilogy!) all
about 2014 in preparation!
