Oh, Glastonbury!
A love letter to my favourite place in the world (and a few of my wildest Glasto stories)
You can follow me at Glastonbury via my Instagram. I’ll try and remember to post.
When you receive this newsletter I should already be on Worthy Farm, where the Glastonbury festival takes place, waking up in our Winnebago (I’m sorry, that was showy) ready for the first full day of music on Friday. I’m not going to pretend I’m thrilled about this year’s line-up but there’s enough to interest me (LCD Soundsystem, SZA, Fontaines D.C.) to keep me entertained. Besides there’s so much more to Glastonbury than what acts are playing; it’s why its 200,000 tickets sell out (usually in about half an hour) before a single artist has been announced. This isn’t your regular festival.
This will be my 12th Glastonbury. I first went in 2007, when I was 24, and, apart from the couple of fallow years to let the ground recover, have attended every year until the pandemic struck in 2020. I’ve skipped the last two due to having a small child to look after. But this year I’m leaving my son at home with his father and returning to The Farm.
I imagine it will likely be a different experience. It will be a festival of firsts: the first time I am going in my forties, as a mother, grieving. The carefree girl who rolled up to Worthy Farm with inappropriate footwear, a decanted bottle of Jack Daniel’s and no lift home organised is long gone. But I hope I do find some semblance of her there. I wasn’t sure whether to go this year but Glastonbury is a special place, the love is palpable, the land feels spiritual. I am going to have a good time and to heal (I mean they literally have an area called the Healing Field). I am excited for the sense of togetherness and connection that the festival brings.
So much of what makes Glastonbury different to other festivals is its commercial side, or lack thereof. Having been to other UK festivals and especially American ones, such as Coachella, which I’ve been to twice, I know they can feel so corporate in comparison: they’re Times Square with a bit of music. At Glastonbury, the main advertising you see is for the charities it supports: Oxfam, WaterAid and Greenpeace. When I arrived at Coachella I was faced with a literal wall of rules, stewards who behaved as if they were working at JFK immigration, and American Express ads. At Glastonbury the stewards tell you to have a good time and give you a wink. This laid back spirit flows into the festival.