Glastonbury '13

Glastonbury is my favourite festival. This is the third time I’ve gone. It is the pinnacle festival and represents music (both undiscovered and cliche) to me.  With the unbelievable headliners The Rolling Stones, I felt the excitement build in the weeks before hand. I live in a very small seaside town in the West Country so Glastonbury is a hop, skip and jump away from me.

This time I went to Glastonbury with three of my friends from university. We camped in Bushy Ground. It’s my favourite field and the best in my opinion. You’ve got a slope; you’re close to John Peel and the Dance Village (now renamed but I refuse to call it anything but the Dance Village); and some of the nicest toilets around.

I won’t bore you with a blow by blow account of who I saw but I will mention some highlights. Haim were the first act I saw on the pyramid stage, a justified decision. They had a brilliant stage presence even after their bassist had a diabetic attack. MS MR, a favourite band of mine, played on John Peel and gave an intimate set. Their vocals held strong and I’m glad that they can sing live. Lastly, Rolling Stones. I would never declare myself a super fan, or even a fan. For a pub quiz I could only name a handful of songs. Yet as they churned out the set list, I realised that the Rolling Stones are so systemic in British society that I’ve heard all the songs and most, enough to sing along. I was definitely there to say I had seen them. Judging by the size of the crowd, I wasn’t the only one. The atmosphere was electric. I was dancing around with strangers and chatting to long lost friends. This is Glastonbury. This is why I go. When I compare it to more commercial festivals (cough Reading), I can’t imagine going anywhere else now.

South West's largest twister board

I say I go for the music, but in reality its really food. It’s like a mecca for food options. I always have the hog roast. I always go to the place that gives free garlic bread with its pasta. Recently I’ve added ostrich burger to must eat. This year I discovered a Spanish tapas bar. For £7 you get a tray bigger than a baby loaded with my favourite Spanish foods: chorizo, potato bravos, chicken skewer, couscous, garlic mayo dip, salsa, olives, pasta with parmesan and grilled red peppers. Mouth watering? We walked past this place so many times that I started to have dreams about it before we finally passed at a mealtime. To top it off, I found a place open at 4am selling churros and chocolate. My Spanish day of food could only be topped by my evening spent in a Mexican day of the dead nightclub.

Glastonbury is amazing. If you haven’t been, you should.