Glastonbury 2010 – Part One.

Well this was an epic five days wasn’t it? So epic that I feel it deserves four (yes, four) blog entries about it! Detailing the amount of sunrays penetrating pale skin, the quantities of dust in one’s eyes, each and every band viewed, meals consumed and pints of cider drunk, this is how Glastonbury’s 40th Birthday unfolded for two people.

Wednesday – After an early wake and a decent breakfast, and a small wait for a younger siblings to get packed and ready, the car was loaded and a drive through the tiny roads of the West Country was taken. For me, it actually took until seeing the white snaking line of the superfence to get as excited as I expected myself to be, but finally it happened. And then Tom felt less retarded at being as excited as he was. Equality returned šŸ™‚ We were allowed to park in what has to be the biggest house known to man that wasn’t owned by the National Trust or English Heritage (it had a lake, stables, a wood! And required a small cart contraption to get from the house to the end of the drive. How ridiculous). And this dwelling just so happened to be literally right next to the festival site. So, after parking, onwards we went on foot, unaware that the next hour would involve the biggest trek ever. After a little ‘queuing’ (just a flock of people moving slowly through really), festival bands were adorning our currently clean wrists, and bags and programmes and quantities of other free paraphernalia was thrown our way as we entered the site properly. One of our party thought bringing three crates of continental lager was a good idea, so after a visit to the lock-ups, we began the long, long, exceptionally sweaty, walk to the other side of Worthy Farm – with the Ribbon Tower in the distance, we made our advance on The Park.

A slightly frustrated moment occurred when it would appear all spaces had been taken, and we would not be able to make The Park our home for the next five days, but we weaved our way in, pitched three tents, separated with one of the party, and then commenced the much-anticipated Wednesday Wander. A must-do for all festival goers.

This year, as “the football” was on, and I was bloody hungry by this point, Tom and I returned to the place we visited on the Wednesday last year, and found a shady spot to consume a Schnitzel Burger whilst said football was being watched. I fell asleep after this so I have no idea of the match’s outcome, and couldn’t care less anyway, but apparently it doesn’t matter now anyway. The more pressing issue was with the Brothers Bar, and to get the first pint of strawberry cider. For some reason, it tastes nicer out of a cardboard cup, sitting in a sunny field, rather than from a glass bottle in some quiet pub. Brothers did not disappoint, and this was a particularly beautiful moment of Wednesday.

The rest of this day was filled with discovering any changes made (a new field was in place for extra camping and “the football” – who needs a Football Field when you’re at the world’s biggest music festival?), and stalls you had to visit later when it was necessary – like Pieminister. More on pies later. The afternoon was spent exploring the Stone Dragon, in a quiet wooden enclosure not known to many, just off of the Stone Circle, and spending a fair few moments in the National Trust tent – where you sank into huge beanbags, exchanged your shoes for headphones, and listened to birds calling, rushing water and wind rustling the trees. Lovely for a tiring afternoon! – and the evening was spent on the on the hill up above The Park, with the sun going down, sky lanterns going up, ponchos being worn and a general buzz of “this is the best place in the world to be at the moment”.

Thursday we awoke in a sticky, sweltering tent, and we were already tinged pink with sunburn from the day before. A casual stroll in the morning took us past the stall advertising a delicacy so enthused about by my brother last year… After small deliberation, breakfast was all about The Growler. Or The Big Dog. I love food, and I struggled to finish it. But it was so awesome. A baguette with chips, melted cheese and bacon or sausage. Immense.

A lie-down in the Pyramid Stage field was required after that, and then another general wander around the site, to look at small stage line-ups, generic hippy stalls, and other culinary delights on offer.

That evening, we had Pieminister for supper. Pieminister is genius and never fails. I had the Heidi Pie, consisting of sweet potato, goat’s cheese and roasted garlic – amazing – Tom had the Chicken of Aragon Pie, and we both had strawberry cider again šŸ™‚ The general idea was to get going after food, but it was such a relaxed evening that we left it a while. Beardyman was performing in the Dance Village that evening, so we aimed for that, but it was so crowded it wasn’t even worth hanging around in the queue outside. We tried the same stage again for Joy Orbison a few hours later, but not only was it just as crowded, some complete bitch told Tom “Er, excuse me? I had a perfect view and you just ruined it?!”, when we stopped for a moment to see if we could see anything. What an idiot. So on we went, and left the Dance Village for good. DV is not a nice place, and those wishing to have perfect views constantly should probably not attend festivals with 177,500 people in attendance.

We slept, eagerly awaiting the music that commenced the next day.


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