Thursday, July 24, 2008

Come on, say it, you missed me!

Well it has been awhile, hasn’t it?

I have been quite busy, but that has never stopped me in the past. I’m starting to think it’s because I’m lacking inspiration. It’s when this happens that you start to worry – am I so used to London that the stupidity no longer affects me? Am I so used to the hell that is catching the tube to work that I fail to notice the hilarity that a Northern Line station attendant literally shrugging his shoulders and walking off when someone asks him if there is a replacement bus service between Angel and Camden? Do I have so much inner peace that I don’t feel the need to throw an ash tray at the TV when I see the latest reality show is named ‘Choir Wars’?

Someone forgot to tell Ralph that 'Britain's Greatest Over Actor' was next door

Well, I’ve just been busy. Alyssa has been forcing me to see the tourist sites, and after 2 and a half years of really not caring to see them - as I walk past them daily - I relented. There really is a lot to see in London that doesn't include someone's kitchen floor at 4.37am. Maybe that's why I haven't really written many blogs; it's because I've kind of settled in.

So with contenment looming, it was time to head to that truely English institution - the festival. What better place to go to completely forget who you are, which way is up and what personal hygiene is - all the things that English find dear - than Glastonbury.

It was a three hour drive to Glastonbury, which after making friends with a bottle of scotch was relatively painless. Stonehenge shot by on the right - missed it - the 40 minute walk from the car to the campsite - missed it. Falling through a tent, trying to crawl in to Coomba's to stay warm, telling tall stories and finally Coomba having to set my tent up as a I couldn't stand that well only for his to flood in the rain and mine to be bone dry-misse..well actually I remember that and it was pretty funny.

The mud, the crowds, the 900 litre hole in the ground that is used by 130,000 people as a toliet, all fall away when the excitement and sensation flooding fun kicks in for the next three days.

Some embraced the rain...

...some didn't.

Things seemed a little calm on day one. With so many things to pick from we ended up settling in at the Pyramid Stage. In a crowd of 130,000 people it was quite bizarre that every second person I bumped in to I knew. Yakka, Steve Canty (who bizarrely enough I only bump in to at festivals - Virgin, Glasto, SW4) and finally waking up in the morning I look over and unnoticed to me, I (well Coomba) seemed to have set up the tent next to Michael Valvo from Uni.

Highlight of the evening was undoubtedly Kings of Leon who closed the day before we all went off to watch Fatboy Slim while Coomba explained his theory of economics to random strangers.

Falling out of my muddy, hot tent the next morning I wondered to myself why Guantanamo Bay wardens simply don't make prisoners sleep in tents and do away with water boarding - a lot more effective style of torture. The slow crawl to the 'toilets' in gumboots was made much worse by the knowledge that I had two more days and nights of this. Shower in a can and sanatised wipes, all was forgotten when we walked in to listen to Sneaky Sound System, and promptly bumped in to Tess and Treve steaming away. Definately a highlight that one. Fast forward through our experiences in the hippy section of Glastonbury, we headed back to the Main Stage to listen to Amy Winehouse.

I've lost my Kiwi friend - anyone know him?

Wow - what a train wreck she was. Obviously forgetting the words, she was basically singing half a second behind the backing band, stumbling across stage, before finally coming to the front of the crowd and punching fans - hilarious. Dutchy screaming out 'you're a crack whore' at the top of his voice when it was most quiet was a highlight for me. Following that, Jay-Z performed in what I thought with as a pretty lack lustre performance.

Fast forward 24 hours and we were standing in front of Groove Armada and the most expensive light show put together. I don't really remember a huge amount except for what looked kind of like an explosion, flares and lots of people bouncing.

The rest is kind of a blur. Wandering around like lost children for the next five hours it was time to go home. After no sleep for seveal days and the excitement levels of a Morman accountant, that car ride was painful.

Glastonbury was over for me.

A couple of weeks later, I went to a more cultured festival; that is that it was just up the road and I got to shower. SW4 (so named as that is the postcode for Clapham) is Carl Cox's festival, which is basically an excuse for him to invite all his DJ mates to come around to the Common and have a play.

Says it all really

Next day Alyssa was heading home to sort out her visa situation. This basically means that I'll have more time to be able to get the blog back on track. On that, I better get cracking.

More pics here.


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