Glitter, Cider, Yoga: My Glastonbury 2016 Highlights


So I finally, finally managed to tick off one of my most important '30 Before 30' goals: going to Glastonbury. Obviously it was fricking brilliant, that's a given. But why, I hear you ask? (Seriously, ask, it's kinda the premise for this whole post). Loads of reasons, but here are the bits I liked the best:

Joining a yoga class in the healing fields, sitting in child's pose and hearing The Beautiful South in the distance. Feeling so relaxed that I genuinely didn't mind that I was missing The Beautiful South.


Getting glitter painted. Waitinuntil Sunday was a silly thing to do.

Dancing to Jarvis Cocker DJ-ing while holding a cider in one hand and a 99 in the other. 

The sun coming out after torrential rain, about five seconds before Jess Glynne walked on stage. One of those perfect festival moments.



Experiencing all the random 'extra' bits that make Glasto awesome: politics, comedy, circus, wandering kazoo bands, giant giraffe puppets, and sitting in a 'county pub', drinking cider, ranting about politics.

Dancing to Fatboy Slim and suddenly 'getting' dance music.

The sheer relief each morning of waking up and realising that the tent was still up, I was still in the tent, and we were both in the same position on the hill/vertical slope of doom.

Genuinely enjoying, no loving, Coldplay. In these difficult times it can be hard to stick your head above the metaphorical parapet and challenge the long-held views of those closest to you, but I'll say it: COLDPLAY WERE FRICKING AWESOME. Might have cried during Yellow. And Fix You. Seriously, it was emotional. The three of us had to hug it out at the end. 



Standard dancing conditions.

Dancing to some amazing guilty pleasures on Friday night. This also involved exposing one of our group's ability to sing along with JT's every word. I also showed off my enviable working knowledge of Girls Aloud and S Club 7 lyrics. No guilt, all pleasure.



Watching Pete trying to drink from a bottle, in a downpour, at 5.30am, while wearing a bin bag with no armholes. I'd reached a mental state where everything was hilarious, literally hilarious, so this could not have been timed better [note: no illegal drugs were involved, just alcohol, sleep deprivation and my own natural instability].




Drinking coconut and lime cider, eating an amazing flatbread thing, listening to samba music and sitting in the sun.



Getting to know Pete's friends better. It was amazing to spend proper time with them and find out lots more about them (some of it I wanted to know, some I didn't). Hopefully they didn't think I was a dick. 

Laughing about Pete's Peruvian water carrier, general stinginess, adopted Lonsdale bag and misheard lyrics. Turns out the main way that I bond with people is by mocking Pete. Sorry Pete. On that note, and this is not the kind of thing I'd normally say but.... Hanging out with Pete for five days was brilliant. We seriously had so much fun. 


There is, of course, one small [first world] problem with all of this: I'm now desperate to go in 2017. Turns out that Glastonbury is huge and there's plenty more left to do. WHO KNEW?*

*Everyone. Everyone knew.

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