Friday, July 01, 2005

Glastonbury 2005 - Friday

6.30ish am - wake up to the sound of a thunderstorm outside. Thinks - good, it's getting out of the way while I'm still asleep. Return to slumber.

7.30ish - Al wakes me to say there's water leaking in. A half-asleep glance shows me she's quite right, so I chuck a towel over the wet bit, and slip off the blow-up mattress so she can carry on sleeping, and go right back to sleep.

9ish - woken up again, it's definitely still raining, and I need a piss. Sticking my head out of the tent whilst pulling some shorts on, Mick says it's rather muddy out there, tho our patch looks okay, so I head for the bogs by Gate D. Within yards it's getting boggier, the ground we nearly camped on hsa a couple of inches of water around each tent. By the time I get to the 'road' junctions - fuck me! The path to the other stage is like the Somme (a sick comparison maybe, but sadly the only one that seems appropriate) and the main road that is normally driven down is a fast flowing river. And not just any old fast flowing river, but one obviously full of shit and piss! Yummy - I just hope I haven't failed to spot some minor cut on my feet as I wade though quickly.

The bogs themselves are comparatively okay.

Wander back to the tent and try and dry me feet - why? Gawd knows. We amble into Mick n Dianes cos it's roomier, and they have Tea. We sit and watch the rain and the thunderstorms go by. Al says she spotted one of the dance tents being hit by lightning when she went for a piss (probably two entirely unconnected events), Radio Avalon is reporting the same thing happened to a beer tent, and that no stages are opening for quite a while yet.

We sit. We smoke. We drink tea. We watch lightning.

It's probably about two when we finally decide to brave the outside world. We've heard the Undertones kick it all off, so there's obviously stuff happening out there. Last night, it took about three minutes to get from ours to the Other Stage, today it's more like twenty! And it's not a pretty site when we get there. A veritable island in the middle of a lake. On we walk.

not quite sure how we end up by the main stage, but it's fairly dry where we are, so we hang around a while and hald watch the Thrills. First band of Glastonbury, but we don't really give a fuck. I think I must have eaten something funny cos my memory then goes a little awry...tho I recall having a long involved conversation with a bloke nearby with a Prisoner t-shirt on. I miss mine :(

There's a plan to relive the early nineties by going to see eat Static, Michael Dog & System 7 (stars of my first megadog in '93 or 4) but I'm not quite sure what happened about doing so. We definitely wandered into Dance East at some point and see some band with wibbly wobbly noises and repetitive beats, but I'm damnde if I know which ones! Not helped by being dragged out and having a row wuith Al about my apparently dumping her as soon as we got in the tent. Which I probably did.

At least the Dance village path is relatively clear back to the Pyramid where we get in plenty of time to see the band of the day, the mighty White Stripes.

And fuck, but are they mighty or what? Never could such a couple of distant pinpricks make such a noise. From the opening blasts of Dead Leaves & dirty ground we're moved to the swamps of the South. Despite the mud clasping our feet to the ground everyone sways and tries to jump as Jack and Meg bounce off each other. Blue Orchid gets people screaming out straight after and there's no let up as they blast through songs new and old - Hotel Yorba followed by Jolene, thank fuck it isn't really dry, or I'd probably be down the front getting crushed to death in a wonderous mania. At the end of the encore, those seven simple notes chime out loud and clear and there's a virtual fucking eruption as the armies of seven nations assaulat our ear-drums. Untoppable, everyone drifts of very very happy.

Before long we have to stop drifting and take careful charge of our crafts as we fight our way up through the rivers and streams which are still flowing strongly. Walking through the Dance Village there are massive queues for PROD and the Silent Disco so it's back to the tent for more mindless chat and booze, but thankfully no sound of the 'Thailand Twat' tonight.


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