I miss getting back to your tent and finding a handwritten note from your tentmates that said "We're going to JazzWorld until 7, then Pyramid, meet you at Water Aid".
And I sort of miss being able to park next to the tent, apart from when someone decided on Saturday that they wanted to drive out and that they could get past all the tents and guyropes.
And I miss tickets going on sale in April and spending weeks persuading friends to come with and knowing that the tickets wouldn't sell out until maybe the week before.
But mostly I miss the underground, alternative and rebellious spirit of the festival; it was something that you'd never in a million years tell anyone at work that you'd gone to. It was a coming-together of people from across the country who were kindred spirits. There was nothing mainstream about going to Glastonbury, your parents/teachers/colleagues would often strongly disapprove of it.