Glastonbury Blog

Earlier we saw Pendulum Live in the Dance East tent. They were, as always, pretty awesome but the tent was completely rammed! Perhaps encouraged by the downpour the crowds were there in force and I struggled to get into the tent at all. Nevertheless, the group were their usual fantastic selves.

Trying to find all of our group in the mud proved to be a long mission and we missed most of the Chemical Brothers set; a shame as it was highly spoken of. I now write this in an almost deserted Glade while waiting for a friend to turn up. The rain shows no signs of abating and I'm less than keen to move out into the water. These plastic disposable kagools are essential!

The green lobby may have their dislike of Chelsea tractors but I have to tell you: nothing is moving around here that isn't based on legs or a Land Rover. Mud depth now at 5 inches.

The only downside of mud is that it slows everything down. Walking. Dancing. Getting ANYWHERE!

The Marley Brothers present Exodus on the Pyramid Stage.

Most bizarre conversation I have yet had involved a complete stranger who was telling me how "It's such a shame Jimi Hendrix isn't around to play this year!"

There's still a lot of mud but there are slight patches of sun here and there...

Some groups of Australian aboriginals have a slightly different system for the seasons than other cultures. Instead of four seasons they have six, and often recognise an eight or 9-year cycle of the behaviour of the weather. This latter point is vindicated by the modern day ‘discovery’ of the solar cycle; a variation in the level of activity in the sun that can have strong influences in our weather pattern.

Why the background? Well, the hottest day on record in England was achieved in the summer of 2003. It is therefore almost entirely predictable that four years on we would be ‘enjoying’ a grotty summer like this during a lull in the solar cycle.

So would I not have bothered coming with the benefit of hindsight? Don’t be daft…

Everything and everyone is utterly filthy right now. Mud is ankle high. I'm going to have to clean every single item in my possession with a sand-blaster. I have accepted finally that I smell. And still, no-one particularly cares.