Solstice and Sunshine. An epic Glastonbury diary… Part One

It’s taken me a while to catch up with work, life and everything after Glastonbury. But now I’m in a position to tell you about it! I’ll be as concise as I can, but there’s a lot to get through. I’m going to do this in stages!

Friday 20th June

After a laid back day of taking my poorly laptop to Staples (that was why it was a relaxed day – I couldn’t do any work!) baking flapjack,  walking with a friend and her dogs, and cleaning the bathroom, it was time to pack the car. At about 9pm on Solstice Eve, my friend Louise and I were ready to set off to Glastonbury. The car was already quite full. Mostly because I’d already bought the booze for Fraser, the third member of the car share. Including nine boxes of Westons’ cider, and twenty four cans of Boddingtons.

I’ve been friends with Fraser and Louise for eight years now, having met both of them through festival stewarding, and now Louise lives five minutes’ walk away from me in Sheffield.

When we stopped to pick Fraser up in Coventry, the situation in the car became ridiculous. But we managed to pack in everything, including a cardboard model of the Eiffel tower, and a badminton set, of all things. The poor car rolled slowly off the drive with a groan, and without being able to see through the rear windscreen or drive about 60mph, I was glad that we were driving on quiet roads, through the night.

Saturday 21st June

The line between Friday and Saturday was rather blurred. As the early hours of the morning approached, the sky began to lighten. And as we pulled into the car park near Glastonbury Abbey, the friend who we had arranged to meet was just setting off for the tour. It was 4am. We pulled on a few layers against the early morning chill, and set off. There was excitement in the air. The streets of Glastonbury were quiet, apart from the occasional person, making their way towards the Tor. At the bottom of the hill, I filled a water bottle from the White Spring and joined the people walking up the steep hillside.

I hadn’t fancied the revelry of Stonehenge or Avebury, and I thought that Glastonbury Tor would be the perfect place to celebrate the Summer Solstice. And I was right. It felt more like a pilgrimage, with people of all ages and backgrounds trekking up the mountain, even some people with crutches or walking sticks. And I was rewarded. I caught the sight of white wings around the corner of the Tor. And after I’d climbed the next set of steps, I got my first proper view of a barn owl, hunting in the hedgerow at the base of the Tor, ghostly and graceful.

Thrilled to bit, I joined the others, and we stood, among a relaxed crowd at the top of the hill, in front of St Michael’s tower, the only remains of a medieval church, demolished after the dissolution of the monasteries. Glastonbury Tor itself is a natural hill, a striking landmark visible for miles, a sacred and Romantic site associated with Arthurian legend (and New Age Hippy Bollocks!) but undeniably a very special place.

The sun rose slowly above a distant line of hill, into a completely blue sky. I realised that I’d never stood and concentrated on the sun rising before. It was huge, and orange, and I found myself drawn into the spirituality of it all by doing yoga sun salutations. Even if you didn’t take your eyes off the rising sun, it suddenly seemed to jump above the horizon in stages, rather than gradually appearing. It was amazing that so soon after the sun rising at about 5.05am, it was getting warm, and we lounged around on the grass at the top of the Tor for as long as we could.

Back in the (almost) real world of Glastonbury town, we found a Brewer’s Fayre pub at the edge of the industrial estate that was open for a slap-up, eat as much as you can breakfast, although you can never eat as much as you think you’re going to, do you? And a quick trip to Tesco, where I shut my eyes for a few minutes in the car park, and Fraser and Louise managed to find more stuff to put in my beleaguered Hyundai.

We drove the last eight miles to the Glastonbury Festival site. For the next ten days, we’d be living in the Oxfam Stewards’ temporary campsite, just outside the festival gates, next to the Windinglake Farm, where we’d been promised ducks, chickens and even swans to make friends with! It’s always exciting to see the festival site – my first sight of the “superfence”, Heras fencing, colour-coded yellow AA signs and glimpses of the festival fields themselves never fails to thrill me. And I’ve been going to Glastonbury since 1993!

Unfortunately, the “Purple” route we were looking for was pretty elusive, and the sat nav code directed us to Blue Route, a hint I should have taken, because once we’d actually found the “Purple” route, the car was bouncing up and down uncontrollably on metal trackway laid across a ploughed field. Louise was covered in falling tents and rucksacks, but the car had built up its own momentum, even though I was driving as slowly as I could.

Finally, we arrived. A little frazzled after the bumpy drive, but the best thing was that we just met some friends who showed us where they were camped, we emptied the car, and then I drove back out to the car park in the next field. And by the time I’d returned, Fraser and Louise had put up my new bell tent! Amazing service. As the day wore on, more people started to arrive. Most of them were working on the early shift, starting on Sunday, but there were a few people like me, who’d arrived early for the “main shifts” because they were giving lifts to those starting early. Saturday was blazingly hot, but I rigged up a porch on my tent that was to become very useful over the next week.

Solstice Saturday was a bit like having jetlag (not that I ever have), with a short burst of grumpiness, riding out the tiredness, enjoying the company of my wide circle of “Oxfamily” friends, and having a little teatime snooze in the relative coolness of my tent. There were still plenty of friends’ voices around me as I put myself to bed that night, even though some of them were having an argument with a drunken idiot (I never found out who the idiot was). We’d made it. We’d seen the perfect sunrise on the Summer Solstice, and were now camping, in a lovely bell tent at the Glastonbury festival, awaiting the exciting build-up to the festival. Who could ask for anything more?

Of course I was a little anxious that my shifts wouldn’t clash with the Manic Street Preachers’ set, but that felt a long way away for now! And the gentle stroll to Shepton Mallet I’d planned for Sunday was going to be a lot more action-packed than expected…

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2 Comments (+add yours?)

  1. Kat Pearce
    Jul 12, 2014 @ 00:18:45

    Thanks for visiting the blog. The sunrise was amazing wasnt it! The barn owl was also breath taking. I loved reading your post, thanks for leaving your link 🙂 xxx

    Reply

    • Anne Garage
      Jul 22, 2014 @ 22:35:14

      Hi! I’m glad you enjoyed it. I’ve just finished the second instalment of my Glastonbury blog. I need to limit my word count – this is getting ridiculous! Many thanks, Anne xxx

      Reply

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