Oh, it has been a few years since I last went to Glastonbury. I’ve been quite a few times since Bud and I first braved it in 1999.
Back then, Bud and I were talking about going to Glastonbury one day in May, after a trip to Homelands and thought it looked alright on the telly so decided we should give it a go. Nobody else was really interested as I recall, so just Bud and I went. We stayed in Bud’s campervan, relative luxury compared to a tent and it was sunny all weekend. We had a great time. Loads of people jumped over the fence and it was full of hippies.
Come the last time I went, it rained and I got wet. I’d got a bit tired of it and haven’t been since. All the regulars carried on going though. A big group of them were there for the mud pit that was last year and they claimed to have had an amazing time anyway.
We also had a bit of a camping trip last August to the Gower. I endured the camping for that, so I though “Fuck it, I’ll go to Glastonbury this year”
I’m like the Glastonbury Hate Camel. I went, filled my hump full of hate, stored it up so when the yearly ticket scrum came along I had ample hate left, so I said “No, I’m not going”.
But this year there is no hate left, I finally want to go again and in fact it’s fair to say - now we’ve all managed to secure tickets - that I am looking forward to it.
Whether I will be so keen when I’m facing a mile long trek across a field in Somerset, I’m not so sure. I’m also concerned because I can drink a lot more than I used to, so I’m going to have to carry around lots of beer.
However, camping with a group of well organised people is quite fun because they have bacon and stuff. I go camping and think “what beer should I get?”. They think things through slightly more.
I can’t claim the camel joke as my own, it belongs to Bill.