Glastonbury [Day one] and a bit before.
Sooo: Glastonbury day one was a bit of a nightmare really.
We traveled down on the Friday and I had a huge hangover after getting blitzed the night before by going to pick up a tent and then visiting the dealer, then doing the stupid thing of stopping at the pub ( for a quickie ) on the way back.
Luckily I'd stopped at my mate (you say that) J's and given her all the gear to hold for me so that I didn't make the mistake of doing it all the night before.
Of course the next morning J was nowhere to be found?
I was kinda pissed at her!
Good start then?
Anyway... We traveled down to the festival and the closer we got, the more it seemed to piss down with rain ( Oh dear! ) Upon arrival we were greeted with 2 inch blanket thick muddy fields that just seemed to get worse and worse the closer you got.
Oooh dear, not good at all!
We arrive and after checking in at the production office ( standing in the pissing rain for 40mins) to get the passes etc. We were finally let on site and to the lockup to empty the van of all the instruments, amps, flight cases and other shit needed for the gig.
The day before I'd heard it might rain, so I'd looked high and low for a new pair of wellies.
No luck whatsoever? Upon arrival I made a beeline for a welly store. The guy said they'd be shut for another two hours and I'm just like ( sinking into 2 inches of mud in a pair of converse holding out a £20 note) " Mate, just give me a pair of wellies or I'm stealing a pair!!"
Him: " No, come back in two hours when we're open "
I'd come in through the back of his shop via the backstage area and I'm actually stood in the middle of about a thousand pairs of wellies and this jobsworth twat won't sell me a pair.
They're £10 a pair. I'm offering him £20???
Me: " Just sell me a pair of wellies mate? "
Him: " Sorry mate, we're closed at the moment"
Me: " Closed for what?"
As the shop is a tent and I'm stood in the middle of this tent; there was no bloody closed??
Him: " No...come back in 2 hours"
Me: " Well sorry mate, I ain't moving till you sell me some, just like, do it please??"
Him: " I can't sorry "
Me: " Oh come off it!!!"
Him: " Can't! "
Me: " No such thing as can't mate, listen I'm stood with the money, in the pile of your sodding wellies , with a pair of soaking wet muddy canvas converse on my wet feet and your playing silly buggers. Just sell me a pair of fukin wellington boots...For fucks sake????"
Anyway after about ten minutes of this pointless ridiculous banter, he eventually gives in and sells me a pair..
Jeez, some people!
The relief of the welly was second to none.
Sooo: I rush back up to the rest of the band ( well half the band, the other members were arriving on Sunday after a DJ set in Poland ) With my new feet, grab my rucksack and tent and we all trot off to our backstage camping pitch to set up shop.
We find our designated camping site and are shown this bit of two inch thick bit of runny mud at the bottom of a steep field to pitch our tents on.
Fuckin ell!! This is gonna be fun?
Not!
Why the organisers can't lay down matting ( there is such a thing as matting you can pitch tents on ) is beyond me.
I'm about to pitch the tent and this guy comes running over and he's like: " Not there mate, that bit turned into a river when it rained too much the other year! "
Hmmm!!!
OK: Half an hour later and the tents are up. I'm now kinda covered waste high in sludge, completely filthy and not particularly in a good mood. And... we've only been on site for just over two and a half hours?
This is gonna be fun, I can see it coming.
I empty all my stuff out in the dry inner tent and find that because I've packed my rucksack still pissed from the night before, I've packed lots of stuff I don't want ( six pairs of pants ) and not enough of the stuff I do want ( two pairs of socks, one pair already wet through.)
Bugger!?
My own fault.
I guess.
Alrighty!
We all go off to explore what's what.
In the rain and the mud.
We end up at the Dance village backstage area, sit down, have a bit of dinner and then it's off up to see Amy Winehouse ( who bored the shit out of me ) , then The Artic Monkeys on the Pyramid stage where the sound was quite frankly shite ( more on this later) , then back down to the Other stage to see Bjork who was pretty amazing. By this time I was wet and cold and totally fed up, so I went back down to the Dance village backstage area where I got pissed and after watched all the pill heads arrive, off their tits, gurning and falling over and stuff, I decided enough was enough and trudged through yet more muddy fields back to the tent and called it a night.
Soooo: Glastonbury day one... Oh dear, not a lot of fun I'm afraid!!
And it'd just begun.
More to come
We traveled down on the Friday and I had a huge hangover after getting blitzed the night before by going to pick up a tent and then visiting the dealer, then doing the stupid thing of stopping at the pub ( for a quickie ) on the way back.
Luckily I'd stopped at my mate (you say that) J's and given her all the gear to hold for me so that I didn't make the mistake of doing it all the night before.
Of course the next morning J was nowhere to be found?
I was kinda pissed at her!
Good start then?
Anyway... We traveled down to the festival and the closer we got, the more it seemed to piss down with rain ( Oh dear! ) Upon arrival we were greeted with 2 inch blanket thick muddy fields that just seemed to get worse and worse the closer you got.
Oooh dear, not good at all!
We arrive and after checking in at the production office ( standing in the pissing rain for 40mins) to get the passes etc. We were finally let on site and to the lockup to empty the van of all the instruments, amps, flight cases and other shit needed for the gig.
The day before I'd heard it might rain, so I'd looked high and low for a new pair of wellies.
No luck whatsoever? Upon arrival I made a beeline for a welly store. The guy said they'd be shut for another two hours and I'm just like ( sinking into 2 inches of mud in a pair of converse holding out a £20 note) " Mate, just give me a pair of wellies or I'm stealing a pair!!"
Him: " No, come back in two hours when we're open "
I'd come in through the back of his shop via the backstage area and I'm actually stood in the middle of about a thousand pairs of wellies and this jobsworth twat won't sell me a pair.
They're £10 a pair. I'm offering him £20???
Me: " Just sell me a pair of wellies mate? "
Him: " Sorry mate, we're closed at the moment"
Me: " Closed for what?"
As the shop is a tent and I'm stood in the middle of this tent; there was no bloody closed??
Him: " No...come back in 2 hours"
Me: " Well sorry mate, I ain't moving till you sell me some, just like, do it please??"
Him: " I can't sorry "
Me: " Oh come off it!!!"
Him: " Can't! "
Me: " No such thing as can't mate, listen I'm stood with the money, in the pile of your sodding wellies , with a pair of soaking wet muddy canvas converse on my wet feet and your playing silly buggers. Just sell me a pair of fukin wellington boots...For fucks sake????"
Anyway after about ten minutes of this pointless ridiculous banter, he eventually gives in and sells me a pair..
Jeez, some people!
The relief of the welly was second to none.
Sooo: I rush back up to the rest of the band ( well half the band, the other members were arriving on Sunday after a DJ set in Poland ) With my new feet, grab my rucksack and tent and we all trot off to our backstage camping pitch to set up shop.
We find our designated camping site and are shown this bit of two inch thick bit of runny mud at the bottom of a steep field to pitch our tents on.
Fuckin ell!! This is gonna be fun?
Not!
Why the organisers can't lay down matting ( there is such a thing as matting you can pitch tents on ) is beyond me.
I'm about to pitch the tent and this guy comes running over and he's like: " Not there mate, that bit turned into a river when it rained too much the other year! "
Hmmm!!!
OK: Half an hour later and the tents are up. I'm now kinda covered waste high in sludge, completely filthy and not particularly in a good mood. And... we've only been on site for just over two and a half hours?
This is gonna be fun, I can see it coming.
I empty all my stuff out in the dry inner tent and find that because I've packed my rucksack still pissed from the night before, I've packed lots of stuff I don't want ( six pairs of pants ) and not enough of the stuff I do want ( two pairs of socks, one pair already wet through.)
Bugger!?
My own fault.
I guess.
Alrighty!
We all go off to explore what's what.
In the rain and the mud.
We end up at the Dance village backstage area, sit down, have a bit of dinner and then it's off up to see Amy Winehouse ( who bored the shit out of me ) , then The Artic Monkeys on the Pyramid stage where the sound was quite frankly shite ( more on this later) , then back down to the Other stage to see Bjork who was pretty amazing. By this time I was wet and cold and totally fed up, so I went back down to the Dance village backstage area where I got pissed and after watched all the pill heads arrive, off their tits, gurning and falling over and stuff, I decided enough was enough and trudged through yet more muddy fields back to the tent and called it a night.
Soooo: Glastonbury day one... Oh dear, not a lot of fun I'm afraid!!
And it'd just begun.
More to come
posted by london cokehead at 1:34 pm
4 Comments:
Glad you survived! Hear the backstage camp site was a bit of a swamp, hope it wasn't all bad! Welcome back :)
Seen the pictures, it sounded full on. Good to read you again!
This comment has been removed by the author.
Well I be knackered, you could have popped in for tea, I was in all weekend due to the world turning up on my doorstep!! Hey, it wasn't you that shit and pissed in my wheelie bin was it?
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