Thursday 24th June

10am
Woken by the faint patter of drizzle on canvas. Remind myself that it always sounds much worse than it is, but still hesitant to get up for fear of what might await outside.

12noon
The half-hearted drizzle has stopped, thankfully. No need for the emergency purchase of a poncho yet, then. First on the agenda for the day: a strong cup of coffee.

2pm
It pays to plan ahead. One of our party has brought a plastic army helmet, straws and gaffer tape, enabling him to construct his own beer-dispensing hat. Jealousy is rife.

3pm
Sat up at the Stone Circle in the now bright sunshine, we talk nonsense, subjected to the sound of acoustic guitars and vigorous bongo-playing while watching the hash truffle sellers mill around for trade and a few athletic festival-goers climbing on the massive concrete sculpture of the word ‘LOVE’. This is Glastonbury.

5pm
I make a mental note of the location of the tent selling Pennard organic wine, and of the Welsh Oggy stall where, for a mere £3, you can get a kind of Cornish pasty as big as your head.

7.30pm
Glastonbury is a self-contained and self-sufficient enclave and for the few days of the festival you’re almost completely sealed off from reality – the Glastonbury Daily newspaper even has a column entitled The Outside World. But now that outside world suddenly intrudes – it’s England v Portugal in the quarter-finals of Euro 2004, and it’s being shown on the big screens. Walking to the Pyramid Stage is like walking down the old Wembley Way, as people stream into the field with flags, banners and songs. Hope hangs in the air as strongly as the scent of marijuana and mud.

10.30pm
It’s over, and we’re out, having underperformed and underachieved in a major tournament yet again. Being part of by far the largest gathering of people watching a Euro 2004 match anywhere in the world has been an extraordinary experience but little consolation, and just as the sheer numbers magnified the joy of both England goals (and the one that got away), so now is the disappointment and despair writ larger in the hearts of everyone in the whole field. The distant thudding of sound systems is drowned in an eerie silence.

1am
Sat around a glowing campfire, the atmosphere remains strangely muted. And the vodka and coke’s wearing off. Time for bed.