Did you go to Glastonbury? How ya doin? In the Priory for clinical depression? Still re-living every moment on the iplayer? Hiding in a portaloo still on site? Its hard work isn’t it? Adjusting to normal life, leaving it all behind? I’ve only just been able to blog about it; such is the come-down.
I’ve been home for about 10 days but I’ve only just cut off my wristbands. I’ve only just washed the mud out my clothes (and every crevasse imaginable) and I’ve only just stopped thinking about Beyonce’s incredible thighs. (No scrap that, I’m thinking about them again).
My point is; I didn’t want to take the wristbands off, I didn’t want to wash the mud off and I’m never going to forget those thighs. I didn’t want to leave. I had eight days there and I didn’t want to leave. If you’ve been, you’ll know why. It’s a magical place Glastonbury. It’s not about Coldplay or U2 or Kaiser Chiefs. It’s about the place and the feeling you have while you’re there. It euphoric; it’s communal; it’s spiritual; it’s non-stop pure unadulterated fun. You don’t want it to stop. Ever. But Michael Eavis needs to feed his cows and at some point we all need to go home. But it’s so hard.
Bros make their long-awaited comeback.
Walking on to site on the Sunday before the gates opened to the public, I felt like I was coming home. It’s an amazing feeling and a feeling that returns every time I go back. And you feel you have to go back every year. It becomes a pilgrimage and I can’t imagine watching the whole festival unfold on the TV, ever again. The pain of not being there would be too much.
And that’s what was so hard about leaving this year. It won’t be there next June. It’s having a break and the Olympics need the portaloos (although Paula Radcliffe won’t presumably).
But that’s next year. I have to deal with the here and now at the moment and get back to reality. But I like living in this tent and I can still see the Pyramid Stage when I do my morning stretches. I’m sure I’ll be discovered soon. But for now, I’m staying here at Glastonbury; the most beautiful place on earth.
Good to talk to the outside world again. The wi-fi connection is still good here, despite everyone going home. I’ve got go now. I can hear an angry farmer approaching…