i'm not quite sure how, but the oxfam shuttle bus seemed to get off site in about 20 minutes and i was home in less than an hour and a half.
after such a long time away from glastonbury i wish i'd listened to the people who reminded me not to plan, but to amble. my shifts meant that i was totally wiped on friday and working on sunday, so i tried to do too much on saturday, blue- arseing it about to see fairly mediocre bands when i really should have just pulled up a pew in the circus field or something. the stupid thing is, i don't even LIKE bands. well, i do, but i like sitting in a field watching people titting about much more.
having said that, i had a wicked time, and can't believe it's a year til the next one.
highlights:
the word 'highlight' doesnt even really cover phil hartnoll's set, really. i haven't danced like that for um, three years maybe, and yesterday my left hip was totally fucked. the nicest thing was the two old ravers next to me at the barrier reaching towards the decks and shouting 'we miss you! we miss you!' aww, bless.
derrick may was pretty awesome too (although i do have to say, the crowd were a bit clueless. what is this thing about coming into the middle of the dancefloor and STANDING STOCKSTILL, TEXTING? what the fuck? you're on the dancefloor: dance. seriously. NO TEXTING, NO CHATTING: DANCE OR GET THE FUCK OUT.)
listening to the mexican cheer sweeping the site on wednesday evening whilst up at the stone circle for sunset. bit of a spinetingler, that.
the majorette kazoo band in the circus field playing kraftwerk and seven nation army
brendon burns
martha wainwright in the guardian lounge. i love her. i want her to be my big sister and give me advice about scarves and earrings and scurrilous heart-breaking men.
lowlights:
the rubbish. i spent a lot of the first three days up in the green and healing fields, which looked immaculate in comparison to the main arenas. christ. how difficult is it to pick up after yourself? these people need culling.
i thought massive attack were dull as dishwater, personally. dull dull dull dull dull. and watching them means that i dont get to have an opinion on jay- z, which annoys me.
the crowds in shangri- la and trash city. made going there utterly pointless. you queue for twenty minutes to get in somewhere, and when you get in, it's a woman dressed as a cat, miming to a song about a cat. total anti- climax. there's no space to enjoy, you're just herded around, surrounded by braying idiots, high on nitrous and wearing aviators in the dark. 'OH MAN, THATS SO RAAAANDOM'! fuck off, cunt.
seeing amy piss it all away, when during cupid i was on the verge of tears she looked and sounded so good. oh, amy amy amy.