Friday
8pm: Meet up with the ‘Urban Nerds’ posse outside a pub in Henley-on-Thames. Many drinks seem to have been consumed by the amount of empty pint glasses on the table. I climb into the car and wedge myself in between four boxes of vodka. I fear it’s going to be one of those weekends. The two James’ and Mark stick on The Specials CD that came free with The Daily Mail, good to see some of London’s coolest dance music folk have come well equipped with cutting edge music.
9pm: The Matterley Bowl looks very wet. Great venue but I could do without the hike from the car park up the hill. I could have got sponsored for this walk.
9.30pm: Finally get to the front of a 50 yard queue for our passes to be greeted by a guy dishing out the tickets…completely off his head. It takes him ten minutes to find our names. I want what he’s on. Plenty of it.
10pm: Have you ever tried putting up a tent in the pitch black? The weather is really coming at us now. All I can think of is my sister sitting by the fire at home with a glass of wine.
10.30pm: Head off into madness, it’s absolutely rammed, really buzzing. Check the Glade Stage with Carl Loben and The Filthy Dukes and then join the Urban Nerds posse as one of the boys are hosting the Tomb Crew up on stage. Illaman was amazing, great way to start the festival off.
11.30pm: Somehow found myself suddenly addicted to drinking pints of cider. All I need now is a piece of straw in my mouth.
11.45pm: Stumbled into the Drum n’ Bass tent where Sub Focus were playing, and sending the crowd wild.
Midnight: The new Arcadia stage is incredible, it’s like something out The Burning Man Festival and features a fire breathing, smoke belching, music creating tower. The pyrotechnics were brilliant, we spent most of the night dancing around here, getting absolutely spannered.
Some point of the night: Sitting on the floor in The Interstella Circus Bar and I feel like I am on Acid. It’s like a gaudy old circus, but totally fabulous. Clowns, acrobats, contortionists, wild animals, 1920s dancers and the world’s tallest DJ playing Boogaloo, Disco and show music. Let the show begin…
The stagger home: Wet through, decide to crawl into Boom Town to dry off and catch Krafty Kuts and The Prodigy’s Leeroy Thornhill bringing the Breaks home.
Saturday
8am: I want to go home. Pissed off. Wet through. Alone in the tent. Tired. Cold. Hungry.
9am: Set off in search of food whilst trying to navigate myself through thousands of people completely off their knackers.
10am: Eventually find the ‘Urban Nerds’ posse sitting in some random’s tent talking absolute shit whilst necking straight rum and vodka. Drag them back to our little camp and proceed to take the piss out of anyone and anything in preparation for an all day bender. Oh, note to Cotswold Outdoor Ltd, your waterproof jackets are not waterproof jackets.
2pm: The ‘Mulletover’ crew hosting The Club Tent was going off, Geddes and Mr C battling it out.
4pm: Thank the lord, the sun is out and it’s stopped raining. The Glade main stage is excellent. Jumped around in the slosh to The Dub Pistols and my favourite moment of the Festival when Lindy Layton appeared on stage to hit us with her vocals. She has come a long way since Beats International…
7pm: Loads of fun inside Avalon – it’s Glade’s ‘festival within a festival’ with four areas – a Liquid Tent, Inspiral Chill Out, Psy Music and The Origin Stage catering everything 60s and psychedelica. Some really weird looking characters mashed up.
9.30pm: It’s getting really twisted. Pass by The Rabbit Hole stage, erm how to describe it? Basically a ‘talent’ stage where you can get up on stage for an open mic slot with a small cocktail bar hosted by pissed up people in rabbit costumes.
10pm until I have no idea: It’s pitch black. Thankfully Arcadia is madness again. I dance next to a man dressed only in a thong. I never knew I could drink so much. Really good atmosphere again except for on the nearby Toastie stall where a fight erupts – over a toastie. Find a little bar that’s selling Tequila shots for 40p. Not sure, but I think I was carried home.
Sunday
10am: A guy on some mind-bending drug wakes me up by riding his tricycle into my tent. Pop my head out of the flap and see the first sign of police of the weekend as 8 coppers are raiding a nearby tent. A girl dressed as a chicken wanders past, some guy is having a really deep conversation with a tree whilst in the distance I can see about forty people trying to make a human pyramid.
Home time…
