There I was, happily bumbling along, almost ignorant of the fact that Glastonbury takes place this weekend - and then I stumbled across this feature, proceeded to read (against my better judgement) and am now once again insanely jealous of anyone who's got a ticket and heading there today.
It's funny to think that I was last down on Worthy Farm way back in 2011, less than a month after getting married. 2012 was a fallow year, while in 2013 I conveniently avoided any pangs of regret at missing out (and any possibility of accidentally watching any of the BBC's coverage) by being on holiday in France, and did likewise in 2014 by being at a cousin's wedding in the proper wilds of Northumberland. This year, though, we'll not be incommunicado and so the danger of catching televised highlights is clear and present.
Needless to say, it remains the daddy of all festivals for me, regardless of how it's changed over the years (read: got more commercial). With any luck, I'll get to go again someday - hopefully when my body is still capable of withstanding the physical exertion of five days of drinking heavily, sleeping badly, standing up and striding both aimlessly and purposefully around the enormous site.
In the meantime, though, it is wrong to wish that it rains and everyone gets stuck in the mud and is forced to watch Catfish And The Bottlemen?