Wednesday, 23 June 2010

How I shall survive not being at Glastonbury Festival

This is especially for all the sleepy souls who crawled out of bed early one cold winter's morning to apply for tickets to Glastonbury Festival this year and couldn't get through to ticket sales before the dreaded Sold Out message.
That'll be me then.
Well we did actually get through but for some reason the system only recognised one out of three registration numbers, even though they're the same as last years.
Then there was the possibility of working there which didn't happen. We entered competitions but I'm very pleased for all the people who won the numerous competitions for tickets (Gnash ... no really, I am, because most of them had only been to V and Reading or Leeds festivals before).
I finally got the message. I'm not meant to be there this year!
With hindsight I will know why not. There comes a stage when sayings like "Stop trying to flog a dead horse" remind me that if something is not happening, it isn't meant to be.
It was harsh on Monday watching my van, full of happy campers, heading off on an adventure without me. And I'm undecided about whether I will be able to watch any online* or TV coverage without a deep sense of loss bubbling in my stomach.
It's the united-in-happiness atmosphere isn't it? That's what I'm already missing. That's what people who have never been don't understand. And yes I've met some people who have been to the festival in the past and didn't like it but thousands of people do. Even the muddy years created fond memories of coping and laughing together in adversity.
It's an intense experience.

The festival and the site feeds the highest of highs and the lowest of lows that can not be shrugged off as booze and drugs induced. Ask any child whether they enjoyed themselves and they will have a very definite answer.
Not many people answer "It was alright". (OK that's enough of how bloomin wonderful it is! ed)
How to survive the next few days? Well I've tried looking at people's pics of the queues to get in (which look awful) but that didn't help, because it's worth the journey.

I've told myself I'm pleased for them all, and I am. I'm glad they have a sunshine forecast for a change. I've done the: "You're lucky you've been at all" bit and remembering that it's a small dot in the year. A spec in the grand scheme of the world. But if you too have experienced Pilton during festival week you will understand - right now it aches.
So while all the magazines have been publishing guides to surviving festivals, I would like to share my plans for surviving not getting a ticket to a festival:
Between Thursday and Monday:
I've filled my diary with work, a good cause and friends who, coincidentally, were also there last year.
I shall savour a shower everyday.
Wear a fresh outfit or two each day.
Drink loads of cold tap water.
Appreciate every visit to a clean, plumbed toilet with toilet paper (and make the most of the running water to wash my hands afterwards).
Eat only fresh food that would go off without refridgeration. (No canned food or fast food).
Watch the England match on Sunday, where I know I will have a good view of the screen.
Text and call frequently - taking advantage of the chance to recharge my phone and appreciate the unjammed network.
Watch the new Gorillaz video for "On Melancholy Hill".

Enjoy every night's sleep I have in a bed.
And I'm visualising I'm there next year with everyone, either as a punter or working. But I'm there! See you there.

* For online read facebook, twitter, news reports, emails (from excited bands with set times over the weekend) and that's without the temptation to visit the festivals live stream.

Follow my blog with bloglovin

No comments:

Post a Comment

Note: only a member of this blog may post a comment.