| Over the hills and far away........like you should be so lucky!! |
| Sunday 25th June.... Lying in my sleeping bag I can hear a superb sounding band, that seems to have been playing for what seems like the last couple of hours down at The Cafe Royale. After facing the terror of the toilets (there ought to be a medal, or a tee shirt or something in recognition of personal courage!) I followed the sound and found a band called "The Stuff" belting it out. It was only 8 am, but the place was rocking, it was packed with people having a real good time; you miss so much if you go to sleep round here it seems! Off to see my Buddhist buddies one last time, then set out on another stroll, or more accurately, shuffle round the site, as it's now impossible to move freely for the vast numbers at the festival. I manage to get down to the front of the Pyramid stage in time to unleash the spirit of boogie with Jools Holland-"Mmmmm....NICE! then wandered back to the tent to contemplate what to do next. I had heard that it can take ages to get away from Worthy Farm on the Monday after the festival, and with the inflated numbers present this year it seemed likely that my weekend under canvas could be followed with a couple of days trapped in my car down a Somerset Lane. This thought, coupled with the Welsh Gits (previously unintroduced neighbours of mine!) having noisy, and regular falling outs helped me decide to get a head start, so I packed up and left. John ( Hooray! on a stick) returned, smiling impossibly broadly and "shit faced again", in time to say good bye, which was nice. I unloaded my uneaten flapjacks, tuna, and orange juice on him, and set off across several acres on teeming humanity to go and find my car. As I climbed out of the valley I turned for a parting look at where I had been. I hadn't appreciated from down there, amongst it all, just how big this event is;It's fucking HUGE! I feel a bit mixed at leaving early, but am still glad to be moving on. So what if I wont get to see David Bowie tonight, I've had a good festival, my first, and I can always see the thin white one on the tele tonight (this is my desire for creature comforts creeping back in now!). The Glastonbury Festival has given me something, such an experience, I hope I have left something in return. But in the end, just the scale of humanity, and it's worst excesses overwhelmed me, so, finally, I'm glad to turn away. I find "Frazier" (yes, sad git, I name my cars!) and load up. Pulling out of the field the only other person around, apart from the car park attendant, is a tall, dark, dishevelled man, a little younger than me. My window's down, and he's already heading for me, anticipating a ride.... He has to be in London "like yesterday". I stop him from explaining further by offering him a lift to Tauton, where I know there is a train. He jumps in, accepting. The man, Peter, has just got back from New Zealand, via Los Angeles, and appears very relaxed, if you know what I mean! Within one minute of being in my car, Peter is demonstrating the very high quality of his "charis", a very soft, very pliable form of hash resin that smelled devine, ( no, I didn't know either, but I aim to educate, as well as entertain) by rolling a small lump of it between his fingers, and holding it up to my nose for appreciation. "You'll never the believe the shit I've got strapped around my waist at the moment" says Peter. As we approach the uniformed Police officer at the junction I think to myself " why me God, why me?" Peter tells me of his travels, mostly to countries involved in one way or another with producing hash, and it comes to light that this is why he has to be in London "yesterday". One of Peters friends was helping to import some goods for him, which he found necessary to swallow on arrival at Customs. Peter was therefore anxious to " pump the bastard full of prune juice and bicarb" in order to get his goods back before his profit got digested! Actually, Peter was strangely atractive, probably because of this dark side, and the travelling, and the feeling that I'm caught up in an episode of someone elses life is intoxicating. It's certainly very different to my usual life, I feel very free, and I like that. At Taunton I drop Peter at the railway station. We shake hands, embrace, and wish each other good journeys, as I drive away I look down and find Peter has left a couple of samples of his wares in appreciation....Oh My God!!! Well, there we are, that was my first Glastonbury. It took me long enough to get round to going, and it's taken me nearly as long to write about just a small part of it 2000 was the year that fence jumpers invaded the site in big style, accounting for the very cosy nature of the site, and the subsequent cancelling of Glastonbury 2001, although,having said that, foot and mouth would have scuppered any plans for a festival that year anyway. Was it an experience...yes it was! Was it worth it.......yes it was! Was it crowded, dirty, too wet, too hot, too smelly...yes it was! Was it just what I neede...yes it was! Am I going again in 2002?........the ticket's booked! See you there perhaps. Love, Light & Peace. Dodderhill. |
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