Anyone who knows me might've read my blog about my last visit to the Glastonbury Festival, 10 years ago in 2014. I signed it off by saying I “hope to return one day… maybe next time I'll bring the kids". The return visit was never meant to take this long; Covid, school exams, financial pressures, calendar clashes and various other reasons conspired against us, and above all the fact that tickets are rarer than rocking horse sh*t. But there was a feeling maybe this time, with it not being a school exam year for either of our boys, and maybe if we made a superhuman effort to get tickets - and of course it'd be really neat to bookend it a decade later to celebrate my upcoming 50th - maybe this time, that the stars might align for us…
But of course it all starts with that gargantuan task of getting tickets. After double, triple and probably quadruple-checking our pre-registered photo IDs, the whole family assembled an array of devices and hammered the site as soon as the first tickets went on sale (coach packages) in November, only to be disappointed again. A few days later, the second batch of tickets were due to go on sale, and I was even more determined now to give it everything. And here's where you need one of those people who ALWAYS seem to miraculously get tickets every time. Ours came in the form of Kev, a workmate and Glasto veteran. Ironically 2024 was due to be a rare year off for Kev, with his time and money being invested in a holiday instead. But, being one of those guys, he’d agreed to try to get tickets for some of his mates. Sensing an opportunity, we struck a deal that we’d also try to get tickets for his mates and he (and they) would reciprocate for us. Ticket sale day came, and even though it was a Sunday, I headed into work for 9am to utilise their faster internet connection. Again I jumped onto the site the second it went live through various browsers across multiple devices, endlessly hitting refresh, with my wife Sarah and our lads doing the same back at home. And yep, despite all that effort, naturally it was Kev who ended up getting through and bagging the tickets for all of us. So cheers Kev, nice one. Perhaps you should buy our lottery tickets too.
Our boys, Josh and Matt, were over the moon to discover they’d finally get the chance to visit this mythical event (Sarah had opted out, she prefers comfort over camping). It’s cost us, of course. Having missed the boat on getting them there for free as under 12s (they’re now 17 and 14), we were having to shell out for 3 full price tickets at £360 a pop. Add food, drinks, travel… a few new festival-ready clothes… oh, and we needed a new tent too…
It would also mean them missing 3 days of school (Thursday, Friday and Monday), which they’d never usually do, but this was a one-off with dates that can’t be moved. Rather than spin some yarn about them both coincidentally being ill for those days, with the associated risk of being rumbled anyway, we decided to just be honest and upfront, so I emailed school to explain they’d be absent (while also reminding the school of their otherwise exemplary attendance record) due to attending a “once-in-a-lifetime cultural experience”. (Needless to say, it remained an ‘unauthorised absence’ which we could still potentially get fined for.)
Finally, after much anticipation, preparation and build-up, 7 months after buying the tickets, it was here.
With there being 3 of us, we travelled by car this time. Having had the day off work, the plan was to be all packed and ready to set off the moment the boys got home from school. Friends won’t be surprised to hear we ended up running ‘fashionably late’, but otherwise the journey was trouble-free. After navigating a mind-boggling choice of different colour-coded car parks, we ended up in Blue East 12. But how would we relocate our car in 5 days’ time? Fortunately, Matt had a solution: ‘We just look for the blue post’, he said. Simple. There are probably hundreds of blue posts in this field alone, but hey. Knowing that we were aiming to camp once again at the north end of the site, we had a long, arduous trek carrying all our gear before we arrived, exhausted, at the Hitchin Hill Ground, to set up camp. It’s getting dark as we’re putting the tent up, during which we suddenly hear what seems to be the sound of a massive swarm of angry bees. We then realise it’s the drones for the opening display, which have just taken off from the neighbouring field. The optimal viewpoint was supposedly the Pyramid field, but the up-close view we were treated to, especially when the shapes rotated round, was really special. We then see fireworks in the distance and the iconic Pyramid stage testing out its lights and lasers, as we retire to bed.
The advantage of camping at this northern area is that you’re up on a hill, with great views across the site, away from the mayhem, and with less risk of flooding if the weather turns. The downside, as we discover, is that you tend to slide down the tent in the night. Despite that, not a bad first night’s sleep and we then kick things off with a morning workout with Joe Wicks. It energises us and as a bonus we get to meet him afterwards - nice bloke. With most of the music not starting until tomorrow, we spend the day really exploring the site - carhenge and the all the weird and wonderful Mutoid Waste sculptures, the megalithic stone circle, the hidden stone dragon, the Glastonbury Free Press tent (where we see the vintage Heidelberg press that churns out the free festival newspapers), the Greenpeace and Green Futures fields, craft field, and circus field where we see stunt bikes hopping around on cars and a guy attempting a world record by making his way round a course while balancing a running lawnmower on his chin. After all this we then chill out a bit by taking a Gong Bath, where we lie down in a circular tent, bathed in the relaxing, meditative sounds of a woman gently playing gongs. The effect’s slightly compromised by some banging beats from outside, but it doesn’t stop me falling asleep, much to Josh’s disgust when my snoring further disrupts the peace. We then head up to the legendary Hollywood-style ‘GLASTONBURY’ letters for some photos. Also up here is an emoji-style rainbow sculpture by artist Paul Insect, which has just been confirmed as a permanent feature, where we meet a friendly chap called Tim - an official Glasto photographer who duly takes a few more photos for us.
After a bit of a break back at our base, Josh and I then head out again, climb the ribbon tower where we get some great illuminated nighttime views across the site, before checking out the Arcadia area and its brand new feature for 2024, the Dragonfly. We strike it lucky by unwittingly arriving just as a launch show begins, projecting visuals onto its Sea King helicopter body, and showcasing its laser wings and moving network of hexagonal screens for eyes, along with plenty of plumes of fire, dancers, dry ice, music and accompanying narrative. I was unsure whether the Dragonfly would live up to the previous Spider, but this is seriously impressive.
This would turn out to be our longest day; when we left the tent around 10am, we never envisaged we wouldn’t be back until 3.20am the following morning, but that’s how it panned out… we catch a couple of short comedy routines before our first proper band of the weekend, the New York Brass Band (from Yorkshire, not the Big Apple, i.e. they were once ‘new’ and they’re from York) and they’re utterly brilliant, playing their versions of some well-known bangers and a Shania Twain track in honour of her upcoming legends slot. I’m so impressed that I’m compelled to buy a pair of their branded boxer shorts from them afterwards (with wearers ‘guaranteed to get lucky’ apparently). We then head to the Park stage to see raucous Irish folk band The Mary Wallopers, one of the hotly tipped bands of the weekend. In this southern section of the site you also have the glamping tipis, the BBC studio, the ribbon tower - where Matt & I climb the 102 steps for some daytime views, and manage to spot Josh in the crowd from the top - and ‘Glastonbury-on-Sea’. This is a fully operational seaside pier, complete with arcades, candy floss, Punch & Judy (albeit with a Glasto twist) and a Robotorium housing a collection of dystopian singing android skeletons. After all this we head to see the fantastic Bombay Bicycle Club, and as they start playing album track ‘Heaven’, we comment that Damon Albarn’s unlikely to perform his guest vocal, and no sooner has Matt said “but imagine if he suddenly walked onto the stage now” than that’s exactly what happens, followed by a surprise rendition of Blur’s ‘Tender’. We then hotfoot it to West Holts to catch Danny Brown, who Josh and Matt are especially keen to see. Next up it’s our first act at the Pyramid Stage, LCD Soundsystem, who definitely don’t disappoint us or Noel Gallagher and Dave Grohl who are reputedly watching from stageside. After a refuel the evening brings the much-anticipated dance-funk band Jungle. Their slick set of hits, classy visuals and huge crowd is a definite step up from the little-known new band they were when I saw them here ten years ago. We round the night off with a midnight showing of film ‘Baby Driver’ at the Pilton Palais cinema, with a pre-screening Q&A session with director Edgar Wright (also responsible for the Cornetto trilogy, among other things) who shares some great insights about its filming. The epic trudge back to our tent caps off a very long but enjoyable day.
After a much-needed lie-in, a phonecall home (Sarah’s been watching it all on iPlayer) and some food, the 3 of us separate off for a wander on our own. I manage to locate the showers, but the distance and logistics mean we don’t use them during our entire stay, opting instead for quick tap washes and baby wipe freshen-ups (a proper shower was one of the first things we’d do when we got home!) After having a chat with some stallholders who we share mutual friends with back in Coventry, I reconvene with the boys to watch Michael Kiwanuka perform a great set at the Pyramid, followed by a snippet of Little Simz as we eat before headliners Coldplay. We’d made the effort of picking up LED wristbands that morning in readiness for their show. Turns out we needn’t have bothered as stewards are tossing loads of them into the crowd before the gig starts. Matt ends up a bit nearer the front than me and Josh, and by this point the crowd’s fairly tightly packed so there’s no way we’ll reach him, but he gets a wristband, makes a friend (a guy called Ben) and we reunite after the gig. Now, I know Coldplay-hating has become a bit of a sport, and I get it, they’re kind of everywhere and have become victims of their own success, but what a show. The setlist is packed with hits, and the lights, visuals, wristbands, confetti, fireworks, balloons, lasers, Michael J. Fox and whatever else they throw at it, all combine to make the most joyful, euphoric, uplifting performance you could wish for.
It’s late but there’s still more to see yet. Next up we take Matt to see the Dragonfly, which he’d missed out on last night, before taking the long walk to the infamous South East corner of the site, AKA the ‘naughty corner’. Home to the horror-themed Unfairground, the epic Block 9 dance arena and much more, it’s a notorious hedonistic retreat that never sleeps, where pretty much anything can and does happen. We take in some of the crazy sights but unfortunately, by this point - after having had some enforced detours just to get here, due to the huge amount of human traffic - we’re super-tired, a bit grumpy, and not in the right frame of mind to really enjoy it, so we have to admit defeat and call it a night.
Another lie-in after last night. We wake to the sound of our neighbours chatting about last night’s surprise set by Kasabian, which by all accounts was electric. (There’s always a few surprises - on Friday night DJ ‘Fred again..’ had apparently put in a surprise performance, and we’ve heard that a Banksy piece had also popped up during Idles’ set at the Other Stage - an inflatable boat filled with dummy refugees - a comment on the migrant boats crisis, sailing its way over the crowd.) We set off towards the Other Stage, swerving an army of cowboy hat and boots-wearing devotees en route to Shania Twain’s legends slot - however we’ve opted instead to see Mancunian legends James. Arriving early, as an apéritif we catch a bit of Soft Play (the duo formerly known as Slaves) who are an absolute ball of punk energy, actively encouraging violent carnage in the mosh pit. It’s loveable madness. As we’re here in good time we manage to get a spot in the front row for the James gig, where we randomly get chatting to the lady next to us whose family work at the festival. Being right at the front proved to be a good move, as we were perfectly positioned for singer Tim Booth to walk by and crowd surf right next to us. A few songs later, the band’s percussionist Debbie also made her way over to the crowd, with a tambourine; now, I just happened to have brought my own Rhythm Tech Pro half moon tambourine with me (as you do), so Josh persuaded me that now was an ideal time for me to whip it out. Which is how I ended up playing tambourine along to my favourite James track “Getting Away With It (All Messed Up)”, just a few metres from Debbie doing the same. The band put on a superb performance which ends too soon. The lady we’d been chatting to earlier now had to dash off, as after another one of her family had won backstage tickets via BBC 6music, they were about to be interviewed live on the station. I pick up the Sunday edition of the free Glastonbury newspaper, have a go in a camera obscura tent - a brilliant contraption which enabled you to perform covert surveillance on people in a full 360º radius from a great distance away - and then catch the soulful Jordan Rakei playing at West Holts. Straight after his set is the brilliant Brittany Howard, for whom we have the best position, middle of stage, right at the front, where Josh and I are captured on camera in a ‘blink and you miss us’ moment on the BBC live coverage. Her recent single “Prove It To You” is one of my favourite moments of the weekend, with me bouncing along and singing her words right back at her like a loon. Afterwards we start walking away from the stage but then hear a commotion, and see that Idris Elba has unexpectedly taken the stage, talking about his campaign to tackle knife crime. We then head back for a rest and recharge, catch up with England’s Euros result (Jude Bellingham’s last minute magic snatching a win over Slovakia) and then we’re ready to see our last act of the weekend, the French electro duo Justice. And what a show they put on - chopping and reconstructing their back catalogue while a deluge of lights pulsate from a huge rig that mutates around them; an epic finale to the weekend.
Advice had been circulating that unless you exit the site before a certain time today you’re likely to be queueing till eternity to get out. Our camping field was certainly emptying out fast, with some having already left last night, maybe having to be back to work this morning. We don’t let all that worry us, but pack away our tent and gear and leave Hitchin Hill for our final trek back to the car park. As we trudge back it strikes us what a massive operation it must be to pack the festival away, clean up the entire site, and get rid of all the waste. Despite Glastonbury’s ecological focus and efforts to minimise and recycle waste, there’s still a lot to process. Meanwhile our hike back to the car is just as arduous and tiring as it was when we arrived, but without the excitement. After traversing across what seems like the entire width of Somerset we finally return to Blue East 12. I have never, ever, been happier to see our car. And finding it, amongst all the others? Easy - it was by the blue post. “Told you,” said Matt, standing in front of a sea of blue posts.
So that’s it, it’s a wrap. We’ve sung and danced, met some fascinating people, watched some world-class entertainment, tasted amazing food from all over the world (we’ve had Chinese noodles, Indonesian curry, Indian kati rolls, Japanese bentos, Thai satay, Sri Lankan dishes, burritos, pasta, crumbles, crêpes and much more). Seen thousands of flags, which display some of the sharpest satirical wit and wittiest parody memes you’ll find anywhere (Google them, they’re a genre to themselves). We’ve witnessed random, spontaneous, and unexpected things… a wedding proposal happening right in front of us, a group suddenly whipping out a massive cake and serenading their friend for his birthday, a suited string quartet popping up with a flash mob performance of Katy Perry’s ‘Firework’, an illuminated mobile disco turtle, an airport departure lounge in the middle of a field, a Notting Hill Carnival parade making its way through the site… in Glastonbury’s magical alternative reality you never really know what will happen next. I wasn’t entirely sure what the boys would make of it all but thankfully they’ve had an absolute blast. I’m pleasantly surprised by their music knowledge (broader than I thought) and immensely proud of how they’ve fully embraced everything the event has to offer. While we’ve all given each other the space to go off and do things separately at times, we’ve generally lived it together, and it’s been a real privilege, a great bonding experience. As we edge back into normality over the next few days we relive various moments and it’s clear we’ll remember this for a long time. Maybe we’ll return again one day! How about in another ten years…
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