Choose a field. Choose a farm. Choose the struggle to put my tent up. Choose crowds. Choose drinking around your campfire until 7am. Choose drinking beer for breakfast a few hours later. Choose rain. Choose mud. Choose the sun cooking you alive in your tent at some ungodly hour (9am). Choose talking to random strangers. Choose the kindness of random strangers. Choose seeing everyone happy. Choose random mexican-wave like cheers that sweep the site. Choose the Mad-Max like ‘Trash City’ or getting lost in ‘Shangra-la’s’ Asian-esque alleyways until 6am. Choose the stone circle. Choose trying to stay awake to see sunrise at the stone circle. Choose 1 of 80(ish) ‘smaller’ stages. Choose not going anywhere near the main stages and it still being brilliant. Choose the worlds smallest disco. Choose the Dance Village. Choose the silent disco. Choose the Pussy Parlour. Choose ‘Special Guests’ in unexpected places. Choose not having a clue what’s going on on the outside for 5 days. Choose saying “This is fucking brilliant!” more times than you care to remember. Choose walking into a very deceiving small tent, only to see 500 people dancing like loons and watching acrobats at 4am (bizarre was not the word). Choose not having seen everything, even after 5 days. Choose not having seen everything after 7 visits. Choose the Cider Bus or the Brothers Bar carnage in the Jazz field. Choose dancing outside the Wine Bars in the market. Choose everyman and his dog being a weather expert when it rains. Choose tripping over guide ropes. Choose wet wipes, lots of wet wipes. Choose us all instinctively knowing where we’ll be in a field of 40,000 people: “see you in our spec at 6pm” and everyone finding each other. Choose the long-drops (never ever choose the portaloo’s). Choose the days before the music starts being awesome. Choose over doing it, before Friday, every single year. Choose some of best moments of my life happening here. Choose 177,000 people. Choose a festival. Don’t choose Bono with back Aids (the bad type). Choose Glastonbury Festival.
It’s gonna be mucho scorchiooooo. Whoo hooooooo.
See you on the other side…
This post is sponsored by Trainspotting.