“My first Glastonbury was in 2017 when I was living in the South Island of New Zealand. My friend Cory had managed to book us tickets the October before and I found myself booking flights home for a 3-week trip to fit it in along with seeing my family and friends. If I didn’t have the longest journey to the farm that year then I can’t have been far off! I’d told myself that this was to be my last music festival I would attend as I headed to Worthy Farm in blissful ignorance of what was to come. How wrong I was. The sheer scale aside, I was blown away by the sights, the sounds (and yes, the smells of the long drops) and found myself in awe of those hallowed fields coming alive for a few days each year. From early mornings in the Temple at 7am to seeing Chic in the sun whilst passing around warm ciders to eating endless halloumi burgers and our beer trolley capsizing on the way in, this year had it all. The Foo Fighters were the highlight for me then, and I’ve yet to see an act that tops them. They closed with Everlong, and this, alongside the fireworks shooting off into the sky, made for probably the best 6 minutes of my life. Luckily I can relive this through YouTube on a regular basis!
These photos are from the blistering hot festival in 2019. This was the year I discovered how much it is physically possible for human beings to sweat, whilst waiting for Gerry Cinnamon in the John Peel tent on the Saturday. Thankfully a security guard at the front barrier was filling up everyone’s water bottles. He definitely saved lives that day. We turned up to the Pyramid on the Sunday evening with our last few remaining beers of the year, having just satiated our appetites at the Welsh Oggie stand. The feeling was that familiar sense of happy yet melancholic anticipation, knowing that a headliner is about to come on but that the festival is nearly over. We were absorbing the warmth of the messages on the Pyramid screens wishing you a safe trip home from Michael and Emily. The Cure came on – they were poetic and rode the mood of the crowd perfectly. You could feel the collective appreciation from the people around you, feeling part of something and just so grateful to be sharing that moment as one. Although The Cure sing the words ‘boys don’t cry’, in this instance, it was hard not to. It’s these Glastonbury moments that stick around in your memory. You may leave the farm on the Monday, but a part of you will always remain there in spirit, drawing you back year after year.”
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