For those of us who missed the cut for highly sought after tickets to Worthy Farm, here are a few tips on how to re-create the Glasto experience at home – “Glastonsettee” or, if you prefer, “Sofabury”. I can’t help with re-creating the magical atmosphere that exists only in that corner of Somerset, but there are some measures we can take while watching the BBC’s extensive coverage so we don’t feel too left out of the fun…
1) Don’t wash all weekend. This one is for the purists only.
2) Queue for 20 minutes for your own toilet.
3) Buy a load of rough cider and charge yourself £4 a time for it. You could even get hardcore with yourself and confiscate a load of cans off yourself as you approach your living room to watch a performance on the main stage. (That is unfair to Glasto, as that happened to me at Latitude last year, but it still rankles.)
4) Don some sort of silly costume, get your mates round and get the face paints out.
5) Procure some unidentified drugs and cut in half with baking powder then share amongst above mates.
6) Get your tallest mate to sit right in front of the TV screen, perhaps waving a flag to partially obscure your view at all times.
7) Miss half the set of your favourite band as you are stuck in a far off corner of your home.
8) Get some of those torches that you bring to the Stone Circle and take to your garden/balcony/local park to soak up the atmosphere.
9) For the authentic festival experience: venture to your local pub and see if you can rustle up a few bona fide hippies and a bunch of hyped-up geezers, bring them to your festival, pump them full of aforementioned drugs and see how they get on.
10) Force yourself to barely sleep all weekend, keep a constant level of drunkenness at all times and eat tiny meals from polystyrene plates so that by the end of the weekend you will feel you are on the edge of a truly mystical experience and may, just may, have discovered the meaning of life. And the meaning of life is to party.
If you’re going, enjoy! (Said through gritted teeth.) I’ve had some of the best/craziest/most memorable times of my life at that place. If you’re not going (sob), there’s always next year.