Nothing is impossible in your own powerful mind!

It’s been a scorching week in Sheffield. Last Saturday, I ran a stall at Sharrow Festival, for one strand of my “portfolio career”, being an independent organiser for Usborne Childrens’ books. I haven’t had a lot of time to develop my Usborne business over the last few months, so a stall at a popular community festival on a sunny day would be a great way of getting  back on track. That’s what I thought, anyway. I ended up selling very few books, although plenty of people came to browse and I enjoyed demonstrating my “wind-up pirate ship” book with children.I ended up dehydrated, sunburned (despite lashings of Factor 50), and disappointed. I was fed up about spending the day by myself, missing everything else going on at the festival. However, it was a chance for me to examine myself. My negative mood was partly the product of the time of the month (not that you want to know!) but partly, I just needed to “get a grip” and take stock of what’s working and not working in my free range life. I needed to focus on the positive things in my life.

The stall at Sharrow might not have worked the way I wanted it to, but I’m visiting a local Surestart Centre with my books next week. I’ve ordered lots of pre-school books, and now I’ve done the required amount of orders to qualify for discounts for schools and educational groups, which should help things to take off.

I’ve also managed to complete one of my freelance projects; editing a novel. Now I’m just waiting for the author to give me the final few chapters and to perfect the ending for the thriller. The writer, Tom Webster, is eighty, proving that writing is a vocation for life. The novel is exciting, funning and sexy; about a man who gets tangled in a web of murders while helping an old flame he’s falling in love with all over again!

Another great thing that’s happened this week is my burgeoning career as a music journalist. I sent my review of the Allstar Revolution gig at the O2 to a local listings magazine called Toast. It turned out they’d already reviewed the gig themselves, giving the band a great write-up. However, the editor asked me if I would be interested in doing some live music reviews for them. My first assignment was last Saturday, so sunburned and on my own, I headed off to review the Sherlocks at the Leadmill. I quite enjoyed scribbling in my notebook and looking aloof! One of their fans, an older guy, who might have been the grandad of a band member, spotted me taking photos and asked if I’d give them a good review! I said the review would be great. They’re a really talented young band. I just wish that hopeful indie bands in Sheffield didn’t think that they have to sound like the Artic Monkeys. The Sherlocks suffer from this a bit, but are well on the way to developing their own sound – and they have a truly rabid following, which must help!

The editor of Toast liked my review and asked if I was available to review any gigs this weekend. I emailed the dates when I was available, and the dates when I’m going to be at music festivals! The editor, Si, immediately asked if I was available to review the Levellers gig in Graves Park in Sheffield on Friday. Of course I said yes – they’re one of my favourite bands of all time, and I’d been indecisive about getting tickets as I’m watching the pennies at the moment. And even better, my other half agreed to come with me!

So, on a still-boiling early Friday evening, we jumped into the rather erratically driven taxi I’d booked to Graves Park. Graves Park is massive. It’s on the opposite side of Sheffield from our house, so we’ve not been there very often. Sheffield is full of parks, but Graves Park is one the scale of one of London’s big parks, with woodland, lakes, a golf course and even its own farm with highland cattle! We found the big top venue for the gig easily and I was on the guestlist – that’s always an exciting moment! My name was down and I was definitely coming in! The event was called Under the Big Top, and it was like a mini-festival, with portaloos, food stalls, a bar, and the all-important Heras Fencing – and lots of interesting people. Inevitably, someone with dreadlocks was doing poi juggling on the grass! My other half isn’t used to festivals and thought that the audience were “a bunch of freaks”.

It was great to see Sheffield band Bison doing such a high-profile support slot. Bison have been going for almost ten years and I’ve seen them perform many party-igniting sets over the years, including an awesome set at Glastonbury in 2007. After a few years’ break (during which some of them have started families and settled down a bit!), they’re back, a bit older, but still delivering funny songs for dancing like a loon. Their ska-brass songs sounded great in the summer evening. My partner (I hate that term, it makes me sound as if I’m really smug! Suggestions on a postcard for a good name for a long-term boyfriend anyone!), anyway, my partner loved their hi-vis orange outfits, but he didn’t like the reggae sounding songs and thought they were a bit “wacky”. Their set seemed to win over a good percentage of the audience though, although the rest of the crowd were split between sitting on the grass in the beautiful dusk, or joining the half-an-hour queue for the bar!

The queue for the bar was totally ridiculous, and hopefully the bar capacity was increased before Richard Hawley’s set yesterday evening (as Richard H is known to like a drink or two!) It was a pain, but I chatted to a man I’d met at Beautiful Days festival (the Levellers’ own festival) last year, and at the end of our wait, we got to drink a pint of delicious local Bradfield Ale. The Levellers had actually started by the time our pints were being poured.

The Levellers played a brilliant set: hit after hit. I must have seen them about thirty times (I’ll try to work it out exactly one day), and it’s almost twenty years since I first saw them – 1993, the Granby Halls in Leicester. The Levellers have now been going for 25 years and are still one of the hardest working bands in the music biz. As well as their own festival, they own and run their own recording studio, The Metway, in their home town of Brighton. But they’re not just churning out the songs they’ve been playing all this time. Singer Mark Chadwick takes the time to engage with the audience, and each song is imbued with energy and passion. Bass player Jeremy Cunningham still does scissor-kicks – and still has waist length purple dreadlocks.  It’s impossible not to be carried along. I was singing to ‘Men an Tol’ with my eyes closed, and jumping up and down to the punkier songs. My favourite moment at a Levellers’ gig is when everyone punches the air during ‘Riverflow’, after the line: “I don’t know how you made it through all the smoke and brew you do. It sure has left its mark on you but you’re still with us today – hooray!” and I wasn’t disappointed. The band finished with their classic cover of ‘The Devil Went Down to Georgia’, and then we filtered out into the night. My partner’s verdict was “they’re f**king brilliant!” which is high praise indeed!

The other half and I got a little lost trying to get out of the park, but we managed to buy a couple of beers and get on a bus that stops a few minutes’ walk from home. What happened next wasn’t so great! On Queen’s Road, nearer to the city centre, some shadowy figures seemed to launch something at the bus. Something hit the bus violently, and I thought it was a brick. It seemed to have hit the bus just below my window. Then a couple of girls came down from the top deck, visibly shaken and saying a window had been broken. The bus stopped and the driver got out to inspect the damage. Luckily, we were very near to the depot, so a replacement bus was hastily arranged. The back upstairs window of the bus was completely shattered – on both sides. That meant that the attackers must have used a gun of some kind. We were all a little jittery after that! Sheffield usually feels like a relatively safe city, and I’ve stood chatting late at night, outside the Haggler’s Corner arts centre, exactly where we were attacked. If anyone had been sitting on the back upstairs seat of the bus, they may have been killed. Sobering stuff.

The rest of the weekend was exciting too. I’ve been to my friend Jaspal’s Indian “hen-night” – called a Sangeet. It was great fun, and involved her aunties singing saucy songs – unfortunately they were in Punjabi so I didn’t understand them, but we all ate ourselves silly with delicious home-made Indian food. With the weather so hot, it almost felt like we were actually in India, rather than Milton Keynes! The wedding’s next week – it’s going to be really exciting.

So this week, I’ve learned that the best antidote for being fed up is to get out there and enjoy yourself, seize any opportunities that come your way and also to make your own opportunities!

Here’s a direct link to the music reviews on my blog!

Glastonbury – the epic 11 day mission!


This isn’t going to be the average sort of Glastonbury review that concentrates on the headline bands at the Pyramid stage and nothing else. This blog entry is rather epic, but it’s probably going to be my longest blog of the year, so bear with me.

I’m going to try to show you parts of Glastonbury you haven’t seen before. This was my 20th anniversary of going to Glastonbury festival – and festivals in general. Glastonbury is a behemoth of a festival. There’s nothing like it in the world. It’s a crazy concept really – a quarter of a million people (roughly 150,000 ticket-holders and 70,000 workers) descend on a dairy farm in a small Somerset village which has turned into the biggest festival in the world. After two years of being away, the sight of Glastonbury festival, filling up an entire valley, can still be breathtaking.

I’ve just used this programme and I’ve discovered that Glastonbury festival is almost exactly the same size as the whole of Sheffield’s city centre

I arrived in the Oxfam field with my friend Fraser on the afternoon of Saturday 22nd June. We were both volunteering for Oxfam as stewards, but Fraser was on the early shift, meaning that all his shifts would be over by the time the public were admitted to the festival on Wednesday – whereas mine didn’t start until then. For me, it was a great opportunity to be there early, relax with friends and treat it as a holiday.

The weather on the first two days wasn’t great. Driving down, the car was buffeted by really strong winds and it was a struggle to keep control. We stopped for lunch in Tewkesbury and wandered around the Abbey, then drove down the M5, past Glastonbury town and the tor (and the Clarks shoe village in Street), finally arriving in our Oxfam field (Oxfield), just outside the perimeter of the festival. Oxfam are now the biggest agency providing staff for the festival and there are over 2,000 people camping in our field, all Oxfam volunteers and staff. I’ve been to some festivals that have been smaller than that in total. There were already lots of familiar faces there, and we found space near some friends’ tents. Oxfam stewarding is such a great social network that for the whole festival, it takes a long time to get a shower (yes there are showers!!! That’s the long marquee to the left in the aerial photo above), food, go the loo or get a cup of tea without saying hello to about five different people at least.

On Sunday, it was still windy and I didn’t have my wristband yet, as I wasn’t working on the early shift. There was a choice of either getting drunk in the Oxfield or doing something productive! I discovered that a friend called Holly had never been to Glastonbury town and didn’t know about the Tor. After a short drive, we we battling tremendous winds, struggling up the side of the Tor. It was so windy at the top that we could lean right back and the wind kept us upright. After nearly being blown away, we sauntered around the hippie shops of Glastonbury town and did some charity shopping.

Monday was my first chance to explore the festival site this year, which I did with my friend Dave. We were looking for the codes clues for the Oxfam stewards treasure hunt, which had been organised voluntarily – with great prizes – by two stewards. It was a lovely sunny day and the empty stages and camping fields were pristine. There was still a lot of work going on – marquees, stages and signs being erected, decorations going up. You realise how much effort and attention to detail goes into the festival. It’s not just a flagpole – it’s a hand-painted flagpole with a uniquely decorated flag. Each bin, made out of a recycled metal drum, is painted imaginatively by an army of volunteers who are onside for weeks. I love watching the build-up to a festival, Glastonbury in particular, as there’s so much going on.

One of the highlights of Monday night was actually meeting Michael Eavis, the farmer who owns most of the land where the festival is held. We were admiring Bella’s Bridge, a footbridge built as a tribute to Arabella Churchill (the granddaughter of Winston Churchill), who became one of the festival’s main organisers, when Michael Eavis loomed out of the darkness and said “I’m glad you like my bridge!” We were all a bit surprised but we had a lovely chat to Michael, who seems to really like Oxfam stewards.

By Tuesday, all of the stewards had arrived, many of them in several coach-loads from Bristol. I finally had to start thinking about work. I wasn’t starting work until 4.45am on Thursday – an eight hour shift as Team Leader on a pedestrian gate leading to the campervan field on the opposite side of the site. We had a supervisors training session in the cinema tent on site, which is more Oxfam supervisors than I’d ever seen in one place before! We also had a one-hour briefing back in the Oxfield marquee, which was fairly entertaining and stressed the point of how important Oxfam stewards are. We’re on every gate into the site. It’s our job to make sure that people without tickets don’t get in! With back-up from security, of course, but if we get it wrong, the whole festival could be in jeopardy. A scary thought!

That evening, we had a special party to celebrate an Oxfam steward who sadly died of a heart condition earlier this year. Chris Light (fondly remembered by the Oxfam Stewards’ Forum users as Sergeant Howie), was a wonderful, gentle man and a brilliant photographer. He also wrote a novella about Oxfam stewarding at Glastonbury, The Gate, which I’ve just downloaded for free from! We drank a specially invented cocktail in his honour, called “The Shaft of Light”, which had glowsticks and edible glitter. We also drank to Mickie the Pixie, another Oxfam steward who died this year after an illness. He was one of the first Oxfam stewards I ever worked with, wearing a cardboard box that said “free hugs” on it. And he was the supervisor! Both of them are sadly missed.

Wednesday was lovely, although a little hard to get used to the sheer numbers of people on site, after a few days of blissfully relaxing, emptyish fields. We met up with more friends and had an epic wander round the festival site, to orientate a friend who hadn’t been before. He was surprised at the size, but he loved it. There was time for a quick pint of cider at the legendary cider bus before heading back to the Oxfield for an early night! My alarm clock was set for 3.30am. If I didn’t manage to catch the minibus from our field, it was going to be an hour’s walk to the Campervans West gate.

Luckily, the minibus did come to collect us. I had a lovely first shift, struggling to remember the names of the sixteen lovely people I was working with, apart from my deputy supervisor who was also called Anne (but without the “e”). The early dawn soon turned into a hot day, with a queue of people waiting good-naturedly to get into the festival. At this gate, people had to keep hold of their ticket and get a “pass-out” whenever they went back to their campervans. On the Thursday morning, most people were quite well organised, but by Friday night, people started losing their partners, tickets, passouts and marbles, which made things a bit more difficult. I walked back from my first shift in the heat, managing to get a few more vital clues for the treasure hunt and getting back just in time to enter the competition!

Unfortunately, it started raining immediately after I got back to the field. That meant that the traditional Oxfam stewards Thursday afternoon meet-up at the cider bus was rather damp, everyone huddling in cagoules and under umbrellas. We stuck it out and drank a few pints of cider though! A large group of Oxfam stewards decided to wander somewhere else, where we could dance. A brilliant decision was made to go to the Hell stage in the Shangri-la area of the site. We were damp but ready to party. We had a fantastic time watching Slamboree, a band combining, rave, hip-hop, folk and circus. Then we stumbled to the Avalon Cafe to see 3 Daft Monkeys, mainstays of the festival circuit. After that, I danced in the Rock ‘n’Roll diner at Shangri-La until 5am, where actual real rock ‘n’ roll was being played, including some rare rockabilly classics such as “Barking up the Wrong Tree” by Don Woody.

On Friday, I felt rather rough! I dropped a heavy bag full of jumpers, my tabard and snacks for my night-shift off at Campervans West, which almost killed me. En route though, I was entertained by the L.B.W. Outside Broadcast unit, gently commentating on the goings on on the theatre fields. Then I went to see hotly tipped indie band Peace at the John Peel stage. There was a massive crowd and they were excellent, but the singer must have been very hot, wearing a pair of white decorators’ dungarees and a thick seventies sparkly jumper! I started to feel a better when I had a long sit-down in the cabaret tent with my friend Clare. The sight of compere Arthur Smith is always reassuring, and 4 Pouffs and a Piano were hilarious – and very rude!

Before my shift I went to see the legendary Dinosaur Junior in the Park, the boutique-festival style area of the festival nearest to my gate. In case you haven’t heard of them, they are a legendary alternative rock / grunge band. It was great to see them, despite the mostly blank faces of my Oxfam colleagues when I told them about the gig! I swapped some lovely text messages with a friend who loves Dinosaur Junior but couldn’t come to Glastonbury. The nightshift went very well – the gate was busy all the time with people coming home in various states of disrepair, and there were several relationship crisis where the husband was lost and drunk and their wife had the ticket to get back into the campervan field. It was pretty amazing that we managed to sort out most of the problems – that is, if the drunk lost people actually turned up! Some of them are possibly still missing in action.

Although I hadn’t been to sleep until nearly 6am on Saturday morning, I woke up feeling relatively refreshed (due to the lack of alcohol may have helped). I headed off on my own at 11.30am to see Rokia Traore, a singer and guitarist from Mali who was opening the Pyramid stage for the day. I was determined to pack as much music as possible into my day off! The main Pyramid Stage was starting off with a Malian artist on each day, to highlight the strife in the country due to Islamist groups starting a civil war, with hundreds of thousands of people displaced and the rich musical heritage of the country under threat by fundamentalists who want to ban music. I’d seen Rokia Traore before at WOMAD. I was running a bit late, but luckily, so was the Pyramid stage, so I was able to catch more of her joyful set, while I made friends with two lads who hadn’t gone to bed yet! We stayed firm friends for Billy Bragg’s set too, until Billy played “a lullabye for people who hadn’t been to sleep yet” and they took the hint to hit the hay! The power of suggestion! Billy Bragg was on top form. As Britain’s top left-wing singer-songwriter, he can sometimes get on his political soapbox a bit too much, but we all had a cheer at the demise of Margaret Thatcher and enjoyed his new Country and Western leanings! I was joined by friends for Laura Mvula but we were all sitting down by this point, conserving our energy in the hot sunshine.

We headed over to The Strypes on the John Peel stage next. This Irish band are still in their teens but are tipped as “the next big thing”. They’re a straight-up 60s style R&B band – a bit like the very early Rolling Stones. They play a few covers but their own songs, notably “Blue Collar Jane” are full of energy. I was bopping away near the front of the stage, but people at the John Peel stage don’t seem to like dancing – they take it all a bit too seriously! After that, Clare was hunting for some Drum ‘n’ Bass, but I headed off towards the West Holts stage. En route, I had a meal in one of the hidden gems of Glastonbury: a vegan cafe in the Permaculture Garden, between the Green Fields and the old railway track, one of the main thoroughfares of the festival. It was time for my peak day-time rave moment with The Orb, an electronic band I’d first seen twenty years ago at Glastonbury. We had been too close to the front to see the massive laser show, which was “totally amazing, man!” according to anyone who’d been at the back of the field. This time, the Orb were playing with Ghanaian master drummers Kakatsitsi and it was an absolutely mesmerising performance, enjoyed by having a good dance with lots of other old ravers! I then popped over to the Avalon stage to check out the Urban Voodoo Machine, who were brilliant – sleazy rock ‘n’ roll with a gypsy punk edge – just my sort of thing. Heading back to West Holts, I caught the end of Maverick Sabre before meeting up with some friends for the next act, Major Lazer, which had been recommended to me by my stewards. It was great fun, but as it hopped between dubstep, dancehall and more other dance genres than I could keep track of, it was all a bit giddy! Music for people with short attention spans!

The next band I saw was a controversial move. I decided to see Public Enemy, rather than the Rolling Stones. This was for several reasons: I like to swim against the tide some of the time; I knew it would be rammed at the Pyramid Stage; I knew I could watch the Rolling Stones’ set on the TV or on the internet later on; and I was just curious really! I know the most famous songs by Public Enemy and it was a chance to see another legend, at closer quarters than I’d be likely to be seeing Mick and Co. We were right on the front barrier, although there did seem to be a massive crowd. Chuck D was the coolest man in the world and really engaged with the audience. In my ignorance, I hadn’t realised that Public Enemy would have a live band. Their guitarist in particular was amazing and the set really blew me away (man!). I parted company with my friend John after Public Enemy to see something a bit different – Hobo Jones and the Junkyard Dogs; a favourite band from Bearded Theory and Beautiful Days. Basically, a punk skiffle band who are hilariously funny. What’s not to like? While I was there, I met a friend from Bearded Theory. We headed to Bez’s Funhouse in the Shangri-La area and re-lived the Hacienda glory days for a few hours. At 4am, my friend left, in time to start his recycling shift bright and early at 6am, and I was adopted by a group of gay guys who took me to Glastonbury’s only dedicated gay venue, the NYC Downlow – a re-creation of a New York gay club in a specially built half-ruined tenement block. It was great fun, but eventually, I staggered home to the Oxfield! What an adventure of a day!

On Sunday morning, I had a sauna in the Greenfields, followed by a cooked breakfast, before heading to my shift at 1pm (I was a few minutes late as I’d miscalculated the amount of time I needed to eat my breakfast!) The Sunday afternoon shift was a much more laid-back affair. People were coming in dribs and drabs from the campervan fields, and back again. Soon after I started my shift, we had a “runner” – a young man sauntered through the gate and when one of the stewards questioned him, he sprinted out into the camping field. The bored security staff followed him at a lightning pace, but the chase came to a swift end when the miscreant tripped over a guyrope. He was brought back by security to cheers from the stewards and comments like “nice try, pal”, “epic fail” and “try getting a ticket next time”. The sprinter still seemed quite pleased with himself though! We whiled away the hours playing an increasingly cryptic version of I-Spy and wondering when the tea van was going to get round to us (it didn’t!) At eight o’clock, we were instructed to hand the running of the gate over to security. We got a lift back to the Oxfield for 9pm and my stewards were very happy to have finish an hour early (we’d been told that we were being re-deployed, but this was a clever ruse by our steward control, Oxbox!)

I changed my shoes, put on a tutu, grabbed some cider and headed to the Sprit of ’71 stage, to meet Fraser and various other friends to see System 7 and Eat Static and finish the weekend with some techno raving of the highest degree. The lights and visual projections were completely mesmerising and after a few glasses of Westons’ cider, I was well into the spirit of things. Afterwards, we had a wander around the dance village and then headed to the Park to the Bimble Inn, which is a pub venue inside an elongated tipi. Unfortunately, one of the friends we met there was ill (not self-inflicted but through injury) and a group of us walked her to one of the pedestrian gates, very slowly, until the Oxfam minibus could pick her up. It was dawn by the time we returned to the Oxfield but we stayed and watched the sun come up for a while, revealing the view of the crowds still partying in the Stone Circle field.

Monday was a much gentler pace. I had the biggest cooked breakfast of my life from our own caterers, the excellent Nuts. Once that had gone down, it was time to head out on site to see what the hoards had left behind. This activity is called “tatting“. Despite the “love the farm, leave no trace” campaign, thousands of people still leave tents, chairs, camping equipment and general rubbish behind. Of course, there are teams of litter-pickers dealing with the carnage, taking weeks to painstakingly return the site back to pristine condition, but their job would be a lot easier if everyone packed their stuff away and threw their rubbish in the bin. The site did look a little clearer this year, but it wasn’t a lot better in the busiest camping fields near the Pyramid Stage. It’s surprising what people do leave behind. We collected: a brand-new Eurohike tent in perfect condition, about 20 cans of Kopparburg cider, a lovely wicker basket, a picnic blanket, a designer shopper bag, a kettle, a Romany flag – and a mystery flag that looks like it might be an African country amongst lots of other things. Basically, you can just go out there with a shopping list, and find what you want, as long as camping gear and cans of cider are on your agenda. Later on, Fraser and I went to wave goodbye to our friend Clare, who’s going to be travelling the world for six months, as she was getting a lift in John and Suzie’s campervan. We went to see some friends backstage in the acoustic field, and ended up chatting to their neighbours for five hours and having an impromptu barbecue!

Tuesday morning was dull and grey, and time to pack up. Fraser and I had lunch at the Garden Cafe in the delightful town of Frome, where all the residents seemed to have been at the festival, exploring the town and then heading home through the Cotswolds. We took a wrong turning and found a charming village called Barnsley, which we thought was hilarious as it was very different from the Barnsley in South Yorkshire, so we stopped for a drink in the very posh pub. We couldn’t put it off much longer though, it was time to return home, and it was lovely to come home to my partner, solid walls and modern conveniences. At least I wasn’t stuck in an office the next day, and I’m determined to make a success of my free-range life so that I can enjoy many more Glastonbury festivals in the future. One day I’ll be ready for free-range working all summer from a perfectly fitted-out campervan!

Main Links:

The Official Glastonbury Website

BBC Glastonbury Website I enjoyed this review, particularly the bit about the stewards – which is exactly what Oxfam Stewards are, really! People who love festivals and want to help other people to love them.

Things this blog is about…