Friday, July 06, 2007

SWSL Glastonbury 2007 Diary

Monday 25th June

(With photo courtesy of Dan.)

It's STILL raining. Seriously, this has to be the most consistently awful weather I've experienced at Glastonbury yet. Everything is sodden, including the end of my sleeping bag. For Jenni and I at least, it really is time to pack up and go home.

We've been standing in the queue for the shuttle bus back to Castle Cary for over three quarters of an hour and hardly advanced an inch. Our plan to catch the 9.52 direct to Cardiff has clearly been foiled. To make matters worse, the rain is lashing down, there's no shelter whatsoever and we're both soaked to the skin and feeling as though hypothermia is just round the corner. As stewards wander around dishing out pink blankets to those in need as though we're refugees displaced by war, The Stooges' 'No Fun' reverberates in my head. But people's patience and good humour in the face of adversity here always astounds me, and I'm cheered by a group who perform a kazoo-and-vocal version of 2 Unlimited's 'No Limits'.

We're on the bus! A big cheer goes up as we lurch off in the direction of the station, the site not even visible in the rear window because of all the steam rising off our drenched clothes.

We fall through our front door, three trains (one of which was bound for Cardiff but was cancelled in Bristol) and a taxi later. It's been brilliant, it's been emotional, it's been drunken but right now there's only one thought in my head: I'm going to wash that mud right out of my hair...

* * * * *

And that's just about it!

Keep your eyes peeled for Q's Glastonbury Review special, which I gather features Kirsten and Laura aka the Smurfettes on p.16. Infamy at last, Kirsten...

A final round-up of Glasto links etc:

Swiss Toni: Write-up / Earworms / Gastronomic review

Lord Bargain's write-up

Andy Pryke's posts and photos (scroll down)

Sarah's photo set

Hen's write-up

Charlie Brooker's take on his first Glastonbury for the Guardian

... And finally, from the comfort of his own mud-free armchair, Mike's fantasy Glastonbury

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