glastonbury 2011 unreleased extract number 3

(Not included in the "Turn Left at The Womble" was what happened to me at Glastonbury in 2011. This is the third extract I've posted on here. It's all a bit factual without any of my usual polishing and it may be worked up into a bigger piece somehere along the line;with a bit more structure. For now its's just a working draft).

Anyway, exactly this time last week I was pouring pint after pint of cider, it was pissing down like the world was going to end and U2 were giving it some serious welly on the main stage. More of that later.

As  I couldn't get tickets as a punter I ended up working as a volunteer for a charity to get to Glasto. This entailed working 3 x 8 hour shifts in a bar anytime between Wednesday to Sunday. The charity get money for providing the staff to a bar company. In turn, I had to pay a deposit to the same value as a festival ticket (£250) and provided I did my shifts ok I will get my money back. Working for my passage so to speak. The only downside was that until I got there would not know what shifts I would be working. The upside was that I could at least get there and have secure camping, free hot meals, hot showers, flushing toilets and in reality a free ticket to the whole shebang.

As it got closer and closer to the time to go I was becoming a bit wobbly about going by myself (Amy & her mate didn't want to go & work it and were both skint anyway) and I was a bit concerned about stating that I had 7 years bar experience. (I do but didn't tell them it was over 20 years ago). However, due to Amy’s moral support I.e. “don’t be such a wuss”, I plucked up enough courage to wing it.

Well, although there were free coaches to Glasto they were only running from Sheffield & London. This entailed a two hour trip to Sheffield on Tuesday afternoon to leave there at 7 pm for an arrival time of about midnight. Everyone on the coach seemed younger, considerably younger, in fact than me. I felt like a collective Dad so to speak. Most of them seemed to be student-y age with a few couples in their mid thirties-ish.Still made me about 15 years older than them.However,being as cool as fuck and right on the cutting edge has never been a problem for me.(Oh,the irony). The coach was full, about 50 or so and ten minutes into the journey our shifts were handed out. I had dropped for Thursday 11 am to 7 pm (ok as nothing really kicks off till Friday) but then Friday 7 pm-3 am and Saturday 7 pm to 3 am again. Bollocks. This would mean I would miss both U2 and Coldplay and all of Friday and Saturday night. (U2 and Coldplay but still...).The good thing was that come Saturday I would be done and have all Sunday free. The rest of the trip was just like any other coach trip-down the motorway, snatches of sleep, half hour break at the services (leg stretch/toilet break/coffee/ciggie) until we arrived at Glasto at about 11.45.The whole site was  sparkling in the darkness though any euphoria dissipated as there was loads of messing around to get to our campsite, get us the correct wristbands and check all our i/ds. This took till about 12.30 which meant that cack-handed me took till 1.15 am in the dark to get my "easy pop up" tent up and "easy blow up" air bed inflated. A cup of brandy from the neighbours in the next tent helped things work out ok and I was in a knackered haze by the time I finally crashed at 2.00 ish.

Wednesday morning. Woke at 7 ish to grey skies and thick cloud. Not good but no rain. Yet. After a great cooked breakfast in the mess tent popped out for a ciggie and light rain was falling. The ground was turning increasingly soft and it was a case for wellies.Wellies that would stay on my feet for the four days and which I grew to loathe with a vengeance. After a briefing about what teams and bars we would be working (there were about 500 volunteers overall covering loads of bars) we all had to trudge off to our bars with the respective bar managers to see the ropes etching was assigned to the "Music and Cider bar" which meant that a) music would be played at all times (Djs/bands etc) and I would be serving cider.Only cider. Nothing else. No soft drinks. No water. Nothing but cider. It was like cider, cider everywhere and not a drop to drink. I never ever want to eat or drink another apple based product for as long I live.  One brand only and only either pints or halves. All the prepping I did beforehand to find out from Thomas & Amy what exactly "the kids” were drinking these days had counted for nothing! By the time we had been shown how to pull a pint (by pressing one button and dispensing 12 in one go) and how to work the till (press one button for a pint etc) it was 12 ish and it had now been gently drizzling for 4 hours. Outside the ground was turning more and more soft and muddy. Wandered around a bit of the site for the afternoon- bite to eat, coffee etc.Chatted to a few people.One of the stewards told me that even by the Wednesday afternoon bearing in mind that nothing really kicks off till Friday there were already 120,000 people on site (overall its 180,000 when full) and some of the camping fields were already full.Back to the site for evening meal-in the mud this now was an hour’s stretch and knackering.Our site was just outside the main fence and would have been a half hour walk in good conditions but in mud it was twice as long. I was going to go back for a wander round during the evening but being generally knackered after the travelling the day before and sleeping in a tent that was in fact slightly too small decided to hit the sack early-ish.

Thursday. Well, after a crap night’s sleep (I was full of cold before I went) coughing and sneezing through the wee small hours got up at 7 ish.Muddy wellies on again.Breakfast,Shower-good and hot. Back out in the mud again and glooped my way to the bar. Nothing to really say about the work except that for 8 hours I slapped out pint after pint of cider in paper cups. Having to check i/d for people I couldn't possibly guess their age anyway! By the time the shift ended at 7 I never wanted to see another cider as long as I lived. Glooped the way back to the site. Couldn’t be arsed in seeing anything else that night. Evening meal & chats all round till about midnight. Back of my mind-next day I would be working till 3 am and wanted to see some acts in the day before I started work. Squeezed back into the tent. Mud getting everywhere. Time to sleep anyway.

"Turn Left at the Womble" can be got here :

http://www.amazon.co.uk/Turn-Left-The-Womble-ebook/dp/B0060YCKGW 

glastonbury 2011 unreleased extract

second extract of four not in the "Turn Left at the Womble" book as it relates to 2011-wonder what I'll be writing about after june this year...

Sunday.

Well, this was a different kind of day.

No work at all so in some ways it felt as if it was just starting again.

Again got up dead early-7 am therefore only 2 hours kip but applying the I’m knackered anyway principle decided to tough it out and make the most of the day.

As I got up there wasn’t a cloud in the sky -not a one. Although the forecast was going to be good one of the security blokes told me that the BBC were saying it was going to be incredibly hot-27-30 degrees! And the mud would all be dried up by mid afternoon-happy days.

After a massive full English breakfast to start the day right the plan was to make every second count. So, with wellies on (still sceptical about the mud),bag packed for the day with suitable bananas, loads of bottles of water, fold -up chair over my shoulder (rock and roll hey!) and the brolly (to act as sunshade) off I headed for a day of relaxation and merriment.

Whilst I had checked the guide the only artist I wanted to see for sure was Paul Simon mid afternoon –thought it might be a good sing-along thing. Wasn’t sure which headliner I would go to to finish the whole thing off-it was a toss up between Beyonce, Queens of the Stone Age, Gruff Rhys, The Streets  or Kool & the Gang.

To cut a long story short I just spent most of the day wholly chilled out just wandering around enjoying the whole thing. Got the Observer and spent a good hour of so at dinnertime leafing through it with a fantastic pizza, massive cappuccino, huge home made raspberry muffin-in the sun. Wellies and socks off-feet up watching the Noisettes at the Other Stage in virtually the same spot we were at last year. Rang Amy “you’ll never guess where I am etc?” Maybe it was because I was so relaxed but tired but it was the only time I was homesick all weekend-just wished I could’ve shared that moment with her. Still it was a beautiful day and after polishing off all the grub sauntered off to see Paul Simon.

Who, quite frankly was a disappointment. Myself and everyone around me watching the main stage expected him to do hit after hit (which is what he said he was going to do) but in an hours set he did about 5 tracks off his new album which nobody really knew or was arsed about. The tone of it was set by the fact that after the first song he mumbled something about, "I’ve got a sore throat so excuse me if it not up to what you expected etc” . The bloke standing next to me said in a gruff northern accent, “We’ve been up to our necks in a muddy field for the past four days pal so stop your bloody moaning”, sentiments which I wholeheartedly agreed with. It would have taken more than Mr Simon to piss me off though and anyway he soon shuffled off. Plan B followed him & was much better than expected. By the time they finished it was 8.00 ish so just time to nip back to the mess tent for evening meal and to catch up on things.

Back out for 9.30 and I had decided to see Beyonce though was prepared to make a dash for something else if she was rubbish. There is not much to say about her show except that it was absolutely flipping fantastic. I was blown away! Whilst this is far from my cup of Earl Grey but from the get go it was hit after hit-the atmosphere was fantastic and she had everyone in the palm of her hand-young & old, men & women. There were just big grins all around and especially from the blokes (who like myself I guess had not expected much).In the end everyone was bopping away-the whole field in front of the Pyramid was rammed-maybe 80,000 people or so. What a way to finish the whole thing!

Finally back at 2 ish after Beyonce and a few drinks. Fast asleep by 3.

And that was it.

Will I go back again? Can’t wait till 2013.

Would I work it again? Probably not but if I couldn’t get a ticket I would not miss it for the world.

The mud? Oh I’ve done a muddy Glasto & lived to tell the tale-this will be a story that can live on for generations-ie  “ Grandad, tell us the tale of the big muddy field.”

glastonbury 2011...unreleased excerpt

(Not included in the "Turn Left at The Womble" was what happened to me at Glastonbury in 2011 when I couldn't get tickets but got a job there working a bar.This may be worked up into a bigger piece somehere along the line though for now its's just a working draft....apologies for the language but it is an accurate account)

Saturday.

After hitting the sleeping bag at 5.30 I was rudely woken at 6 ish by some arsehole falling over the guy ropes and them half falling right on top of the tent, obviously pissed. As he fell & knocked the tent all the condensation from the inside dropped onto my sleeping bag and all over my face. It was if someone had thrown a jug of water over you just as you were dropping off. I must admit though by bellowing “FUCK OFF DICKHEAD!!” at the top of my voice was quite funny. I could hear his little spindly student legs peg it –he must’ve thought some crazed scouser was going to emerge half- naked from the tent with a baseball bat and break his legs. That is not really my style as I am a natural born coward. Brushing the water off the sleeping bag I turned over and fell back fast asleep.

Until 8 o’clock when the heat of the sun through the tent became too much to bear and claustrophobic. Unzipping the muddied zip for the front and poking my head out like a bleary-eyed dormouse I could see that nearly all the clouds had burnt away and there were blue blue skies overhead! Needing a wee and a coffee I pulled on my muddy jeans and made a quick trip out with every intention of going back to bed as I really had had only two hours kip. And having to do another late one Saturday night. But, intentions being merely that, once I was up it seemed a bit daft to waste time at Glasto on a beautiful day being asleep. (I could always nip back in the afternoon for a cheeky little nap?)So one coffee down I was wide awake and raring to go. Queued for the showers in the mud which was still there but not getting any worse, full breakfast and back to the tent to tidy up.          

In my generally knackered state the night before had not checked or realised that the flipping tent had leaked with all the rain and my rucksack with all my dry clothes in was soaking. I therefore had to take everything out, unbag all of the clothes which were ok but all the little things in the pockets of the rucksack were ruined-packets of paracetmol, jelly babies, spare lighters etc. Can you imagine how messy a full packet of rain sodden ginger nuts can get? However, major disaster was averted and by 11 ish was ready to go.

Although the forecast was good with no rain and the glasto veterans assured me that with a day without rain all the mud would dry up it had been so bad that it was still difficult to get around. It was now the consistency of glue actually. I decided to head off for the Pyramid and saw in turn Tame Impala (sunny psychedelica perfectly fitting after the rain-sun-kissed tunes and all that), Gaslight Anthem(clash-y) and Rumer (ace 60s pop Bacharachy).Sitting with a 99 and a coffee in the sun at 3 o’clock thought that things, well, actually are turning out pretty damn fine. It doesn’t get much better than this etc. Best get back to the tent for a couple of hours sleep though.

By the time I got back I ended up chatting with a couple of people and it hardly seemed worth it. So after evening meal and packing up banana for mid evening break went back to the bar for my 7 pm -3 m shift. On arrival I was informed that there would be a special secret (oooh!) guest  playing 1am-3 am-DJ Yoda.I don’t know if you are as hip as the kid who told me that but it didn’t mean anything to me. I asked if he was a little green bloke with pointy ears but either the tragically hip student could deadpan like no-one else or had an oxbridge sense of humour (ie none). Again the night went in a blur –it was packed all night though I was counting the hours down before I finished.

During my half hour break I legged it (as much as anyone can wearing wellies) to see Coldplay and managed to catch two songs. Although they are an easy target one of the best live bands I have ever seen. So in 30 minutes I caught Chris Martin and the boys, smoked three ciggies, had two cups of tea, two bananas and a Mars Bar. Who needs drugs? I was as wired as fuck and ready for the little Jedi Knight.

Surprisingly, DJ Yoda was ace, and what could be called a master of the genre. Mixing hip hop, 30’s blues, kids cartoon songs and bits of the Doors (I am stoned, immaculate etc) he never put a foot wrong. Any more of that and I would be using glo-sticks. Possibly. Not. Too old.

Well, by 3.30 all my working shifts were done! With the weary bones of someone who hadn’t slept more than three hours in the last 24 I slowly slowly made my way back to the site with one of the crew who was in his late thirties who was as knackered as me.(The rest of the crew were young enough to want to go on and party).Literally crawled into the tent. Tomorrow would be another day.