Friday, 24 June 2011

Glastonbury Mishaps

Glastonbury Festival always promises to be a fantastic event, and nothing short of a spectacle. As a Somerset lass myself, it is another reason for me to be proud of my West Country: the festival is world renowned (and ironically because of this, my introduction is entirely unnecessary).

The year of 2011 proved a difficult one for festival goers, with tickets selling out in record breaking speed many were left disappointed. I was one of the disheartened ones who was unfortunate enough to miss out on the fight for the golden tickets. As thus, I deemed it necessary to work for a security company at my favourite festival so as not to miss the musical delights, fine craft and culinary delicacies. The Park, Arcadia and The Green Craft field proved particular highlights once more; the festival surely did not disappoint. With stalls offering you the opportunity to make your own wooden basket, leather pouch, flower garland or even stone carving, it is the intricate fields further away from the legendary Pyramid stage which make the Glastonbury festival so intimately wonderful in all its grandeur. Glastonbury continues to cater for every individual's tastes; be they musical, poetic, literary, creative, artistic or other - Glastonbury has it all. If Glastonbury were a person, it would be the most embraced individual in the United Kingdom: everybody loves it.

The beautiful event was used by many (such as I) to mark the completion of a tough academic year or university and to celebrate with friends to an astounding musical soundtrack provided by the likes of pop greats Beyonce, budding post-step stars Jamie Woon and legendary children's characters The Wombles. While Fatboy Slim, Stanton Warriors and DJ Shadow provide an electronic option for lovers of a funky dance beat, folk beauties like Laura Marling delicately tantalise the ears of adoring, chilled out fans. There is quite literally a musical delight available for every taste.

Unfortunately for many however, the experience was cut short by (yes you guessed it) the mud. 200,000 individuals all coming face to face with a bog is a sure fire way to ensure many an injury ensues. From 'glass half full' families attempting to enthuse their children into embarking upon a mission that surely ensures their tiny bodies will become submerged in the vast sea of mud, to older couples (and young, fit, rugby players for that matter) flying over onto their knees, backs and bottoms. It would seem that a hip injury proves a 'liability' to a security company and as thus, the mud performed its dastardly deeds and a reluctant me was sent home. Deflated and inexplicably disappointed, Glastonbury in all its god-like glory consumed me with its lethal, muddy weapon and I now sit at home watching childhood favourite U2 on the old tellybox.

Quite amazing as it is, Glastonbury Festival shall never get the better of anyone that is lucky enough to visit it. The site is like nowhere else on this earth; an ultimately indescribable and mesmerising quality which ensures punters will return year after year. The festival's community spirit and charm are what make it such a unique experience. In a time when many are so isolated and cold, the festival provides refuge and an area the size of Bath for hoards of individuals to fall, dance and party their woes away come rain or shine. Glastonbury, you shall not defeat the likes of I; I shall return!

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