For someone who had so much to say about Glastonbury over the past year, I can’t say I’m doing a very good job of organising my thoughts about it now it’s been and gone for another year. It was my fourth festival and I’ve still come away with a feeling of having missed so much, having turned one corner whilst simultaneously leaving three paths undiscovered. I suppose that’s what keeps calling me back with such desperation each year – the desire to find more each time and to feel satisfied that I’ve experienced as much as I could (rather than falling asleep lots and feeling peaky in the mornings). However, despite the naps and the peaky mornings (which are unavoidable realities, I suppose), it’s still my favourite place I’ve ever found; a temporary city where everyone feels a mutual sense of privilege and pride. I’ve never found such mutual understanding and happiness anywhere else, which is why I hope my years are always punctuated by five wonderful days in June spent in those fields of Pilton, the most magical farm in the world.
