Glastonbury 2010 – Part 4

Part 1. Part 2. Part 3.

So, Glastonbury was his much fun!

This is my main dude, Terry, looking all probably fashionable in a beanie (seriously? it’s like 300C out there?!)

All mornings should start with a Kazoo band covering MGMT.

Photobucket

The place was alive with random entertainers, usually up by the Circus area (obviously).

Talking of the Circus areas, one of the best things we saw there were the Black Eagles, a crazy troupe of tumbling, rolling, high-flying, limboing nutcases who were impossible to get a decent picture of because they were never still.

As I mentioned in an earlier post, on Sunday I saw few bands.
Mainly this was due to the following.

Yeah, I know.
Oh dear.

You might think this was a terrible waste of my time, but it was still a great experience.
I’ve only been to one football match, and with so many people you can’t really get much closer to such an atmosphere without being in a rammed stadium.
It also had the added bonus that despite the result, there was a generally amicable atmosphere and a wonderful lack of slavering beered-up morons just out for a fight. (though I did notice the mounted police that just happened to be there…)
Still.  England were awful.
I think they actually went up a place in the FIFA rankings as a result of their … ‘performance’ in the world cup…

Certainly didn’t let it get us too down, though. We were at a frikkin festival!  A quick change and 400th layer of sun cream and we were off!

I went off to find Terry, and we met at the Orange Chill and Charge.

I took a spare battery for my Blackberry, I wanted to blog here from the festival and needed the extra ‘just in case’ as my dad had gone into hospital and I needed to be contactable.  The battery was fully charged and had been used.  But when the time came to get it from the lockup – it did nothing.
I was not best pleased.

So, meeting at the Orange chill’n’charge ‘cube’ (it did look pretty cool), he showed me his own Technologyfail.
He’d dropped his camera and was spending the rest of the weekend enjoying ‘pot luck’ with the pictures he was taking.

But who needs technology when you can make a working dragon out of clay?

That wasn’t the only thing on fire, it was far too hot.

I am not a fan of the heat, never have been.  I’ve always thought of things as such: When it’s too cold, you can keep putting layers on until you’re warm enough.  When it’s too warm, there’s only so far you can go before you get arrested.  So I wasn’t really lively until around 6 in the evening, but partying into the night meant less sleep time as you couldn’t sleep in your tent past 7am!  I also had… a funny five minutes on Saturday. Likely dehydrated, I was getting all restless and uncomfortable, felt sick, couldn’t concentrate, it was horrible.
I shouldn’t complain too much, though, it was the best weather Glastonbury has seen in years. Not a drop of rain, no one could believe it.  I managed to avoid sunburn 90%. the 10% being the back of my hand, a place I didn’t think to cover and it went nice and bright red.  It was nothing on Nic, however (wish I had photos!), who was wearing BIG sunglasses, leaving a bright stripe across the face – The Adam Ant look…

Looking silly really wasn’t a problem, though, it was a festival after all.

When most people are looking sunburnt and sweaty, there really isn’t any need to worry about your appearance (though the number of stalls offering to do people’s hair was disappointing).  And there’s always people in silly dress-up.  In fact it’s sometimes uncertain as to whether they’re an act or not.

Part of what made the weekend so awesome was that there’s an overwhelming sense of freedom.
Despite the fact that you’re fenced in!
But you could tackle the festival at as hectic or laid back a pace as you want.  You could approach it as you do with Reading: bandbandbandbanddancesleeprepeat, or you could easily enjoy the festival without seeing a single band.

Up by the hill of the ‘viewing area’ and the stone circle was a lot of open grass where people were lounging in the sun, and I came across this guy.  I’ll admit that seeing him I could only think “You spent £185 for a ticket and you’re reading a book?!” But ultimately you could do anything you want.
Except perhaps remain at a comfortable temperature, phew.

So the final day ended with Stevie Wonder, and the general consensus was to hit the hay so we could get up early and get the hell outta dodge asap.  I wasn’t particularly keen on it ending, especially as it was no longer a million degrees and I could breathe without breaking into a sweat.  However, I had to retrieve my spare insulin pens from the medical tent and used that as an excuse to go on an ADVENTURE!

As a card-carrying insulin-jabber, I decided to take some spare pens with me just in case something happened to the others (overheated/dropped/broken/stolen because someone mistook them for neon highlighters).  On the first day I asked for directions to the nearest medical tent with a fridge and the girl clearly didn’t know, so directed me to the main medical centre, which was roughly as far away from my tent as the moon.  I got half way and thought “to hell with this” and followed the signposts (which were pretty useful).  I found a normal tent and they had a fridge in each one, so placed the pens in their care.  The place was chock full of people, mostly with sunstroke but there were a couple of poor hobbling buggers that had stood on tent pegs. Ouch.

ANYWAY! So at half midnight I went on a wander, watching and listening to the festival.  People were disassembling their tents to go that night to beat the rush, in such great numbers they’d face long queues.  Others were talking about finding parties elsewhere.  From somewhere unseen I could hear an acoustic guitar and people singing a song about, er, ducks.  I walked past a couple arguing, just catching the pissy childishness of “Fine, I’ll go on my own then”.  Someone ran past me shouting “I DON’T WANT TO LEAVE!!!!!”.  There was none of the Reading idiocy of the ‘angry mobs’ going from tent-fire to tent fire marvelling as the fiftieth tent bursts in to flames as if they’ve never seen it before.
On the way back from the medical tent I saw that argument was one of those arguments with a gravitational pull, with some squawking harpy saying “Leave it, it’s not worth it.”.  The song about ducks was still going on. People were still leaving for home or to find somewhere to dance until the sun came up.

I had a look around CubeHenge, an area I regretted not having a rave in.

While doing this I could hear a late night set going on in the nearby Dance tent, and I thought it sounded familiar.

Heading there to investigate, I wormed my way through the crowd to discover the last band I would see would be hilarious.

This blurry monstrosity of a picture is the one and only Snap!
I arrived just in time for The Power and got to dance to Rhythm Is A Dancer. Excellent way to end the festival probably.

We escaped the site with almost as little trouble as getting in.  Progress for the first half hour was a little slow, but we got out without having to queue.  No queues, no rain. Did I really go to Glastonbury?

I still, however, feel that I didn’t do enough.  It’s probably hard not to feel that way, as there’s simply so much there, but I didn’t take advantage of the exciting things going on; explore every area, find random locations to party.  Terry, camping elsewhere ended up with far greater stories, from the Slumbarave, to picking up tips on his posture during piano lessons from a drag queen, to raving in the smallest venue of the festival, a small cupboard.
I think part of it was due to my cautious nature regarding my first time at a festival dealing with diabetes.  It was certainly a learning curve in that respect – each dose of insulin needs to come down some way.
But next time, if I want to go rave on my own, why not?  Need sleep? NEED SLEEP?! pah! The wise Frank Turner said it well enough with his first album. Sleep Is For The Week.

I can put this into affect the next time I go, because I really want to go again.

All those irritating bastards who gloat about how amazing it is are speaking the truth.
If you get the chance, or if you only ever go to one festival, go to this one.

Of course, I’ve not tried it in the torrential downpours it’s known for, so we’ll see if that changes my tune when I experience one of them, but I’m more than up for that.

That’s it for the Glastoblogs, hope you’ve enjoyed the insight or memories, I’m working on putting a video togethe, too, so that’ll be up soon.

Thanks for reading!

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