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Your first time....


Guest TheJackson
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Honestly cant remember if I saw her! I was working in a cabin close to the Main Gate on the map. All very hush-hush! I've missed four festivals since then and I think there have been 6 fallow years. So this year is 30 years and 20 festivals for me I think.

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Funny enough we were also in that bloody queue even although our Crew coach came from London.
The driver made a wrong turn so I went down to direct him and told him to take the last exit on a roundabout but the guy ' took the first turning ' - i could have killed him - I told him he had to get off that road but he did not want to do a three point turn - anyway rather than being East Of Pilton we ended West of Glastonbury Town and it took us two hours just to get on the A39 but I advised him to turn the coach around and go back on the road we had just driven on but he would not listen.
he kept on about being out of hours - well it was his own bloody fault .
I only found out recently that one of my Team mates who is female ended up being offered the toilet from a private House { I am not joking }
We got to Red Gate with the usual Security checks and they came out with the bollocks that we should have been there 8 hours ago - I came swinging off that coach and whatever I said they decided not to argue and they let us in as the Coach has onsite access .
its because of that balls up that since then all the Crew Coaches for the WBC arrive on the Tuesday.
Some went and had a meal in a local pub - some had a game of darts and some even had time to play some Pool -
its still a mystery because the car crash was on the M5 and once we got though Glastonbury Town the traffic speeded up so I am not sure - there may have been further break downs closer to Pilton.
2009 was the year the WBC had moved camp but lucky enough some of my set up crew mates had told me where it was - no problem in the daylight but we arrived after midnight but I still was able to point the coach in the right direction - by that time he was following my advice.
a shot from 2009 - out crew camp was in a field that in later years would be called ' Bushy Ground '
so while 2009 was not my first time - it was the first time I ended up the wrong side of Glastonbury Town.
it was the first time it had taken longer than four hours { counting stop off's } to reach it.
Two on my Team are from Iceland { its a long story why } and 2009 was their first time so they thought that trip was normal - it was only on the Monday when we arrived back in London in under three hours they they appreciated it was not all that far.

2009-overhead-fullcamp2.jpg

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My first time was as a 16 year old Sunday day tripper in 05.

Been every year since and each time I get the same feeling as if it was my first time!

Those 5 days almost seem mythical to me. As if time stops outside the fence and the only thing which matters is what's going on inside it.

Due to alcohol etc. all in excess (of course) I often leave wondering if it was all a dream!

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Thank you for this thread - have been considering giving up our tickets this year due to the financial stress of buying our first home. Have worried about how insufferable I would be come June if we didn't go but struggling to convince myself we could justify the cost. However reading through this has reminded me why there is absolutely no other option for us than to go. We can do without nee wardrobes etc for a few months, but CANNOT miss those five days in my favourite place in the whole world.

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I agree Mrs Rookie, we're broke too but some careful saving means we'll be going again in June... I mean, you just couldn't not could you?

I wish I could remember more about my first time, but I do remember trying to carry a 4 man canvas frame tent across the field, getting totally passed off with it, dumping it down while my friends went off to find a pitch. I looked up to see I was sat in front of the pyramid, with all the wonderfullness stretched out in front of me and at that moment I knew I loved it. That love has grown and grown over the last 16 festivals and I know it'll be with me for ever.

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First time was 1998, 17 years old, incredibly naive, turned up with £35, eight cans of Stella, a tiny rucksack, and what can only be described as a child's play tent. Of course, it hammered it down non-stop from Thursday to Sunday and my tent collapsed almost immediately, soaking all the clothes I had and making it resemble a sodden canvas body bag for the weekend.

How I got through it, I'll never know, the fearless indestructible nature of youth, I suppose.

Things I remember:

Walking from the drop off point for what seemed like hours down muddy tracks and lanes, with scousers offering ticket stubs, ways in under tunnels or over rope ladders, and the Samaritans or someone standing with a tray of oranges and drinks.

The incredibly loud sound from all the stages. Thinking back now, it seemed that if you got anywhere near the Pyramid or Other Stage the noise was loud enough to make your guts rumble. Doesn't seem that way anymore.

The sound systems at what seemed like every stall, pounding out music at all hours - there was no late night area - the whole place was the late night area.

First time at the Stone Circle. That view, and all the drummers and fire jugglers. People being cheered as they came over the fence. Absolute mania everywhere. My young, naive eyes couldn't really believe what they were seeing. Love at first sight. Hooked for life.

Getting to Sunday night, absolutely frozen and soaked to the bone, sleep deprived, shivering, my adidas sambas a rotten mess glued to my decaying feet and spending my last three quid on the only food I could afford before Pulp headlined the Pyramid. Chips and gravy in a little tray. Shaking with hunger and cold, then the gravy melting the tray, running through my fingers and burning my hands until I was forced to take one last desperate mouthful and drop the tray into the ocean of mud below me.

Then Pulp, just amazing. One of the best headline shows I've ever seen at Worthy Farm, and at the end the PA playing 'Stand By Me' as our little gang of A-level mates - all about to move away to other parts of the country to start university - waddled away through the knee-deep water and mud, holding on to each other and singing at the top of our voices, a few tears from the exhaustion, the ordeal and the sheer surreal beauty of the whole thing. I've been to every one since. :)

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Great post :) You ought to write that book...

My first time was 2008. My veteran friends told me it would blow my mind but I didn't believe them, thinking I knew all about festivals from Reading. How wrong I was! Mind blown and fell completely in love with the place. The sheer scale and variety of it never ceases to amaze me.

Was beyond devastated to miss out in the ticket sale last year, having been every year since. Now I have a working ticket I'm over the moon to be going back to my favourite place :D

Taking a newbie myself so can't wait to see it through his eyes.

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2000 -

15 hours to get there from Scarborough. We left the Thursday morning, got there in the early hours of Friday in the pitch dark. Had to put up a tent that we had never used before.

Scousers on the way in offering the use of their ladder for a tenner

David Bowie!

Um, Toploader, hmmm.

Deciding not to use the toilets for a 'sit down' until I got home. This did not happen and the end result was a messy last minute dash to the nearest long drop.

Proper long drops - they were longer in those days, I'm sure of it!

Crushes - way too many people there that year

I remember being overwhelmed by the sheer size of the place and having no idea where anything was, but had such a great time I went to the next 4 in a row before having a few years off (still not sure why)

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Cheers Kylie!

Glastonbury was the first festival of any kind I went to, and media coverage was far less exhaustive back then, so the only idea I really had was of watching bands on the Pyramid or Other Stage on TV. My mind was, indeed, blown when I got there!

I started going to Reading a year or two afterwards, and while I enjoyed it in a very different way, it was impossible not to feel underwhelmed.

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