Glastonbury festival 2011 : a mini-adventure

Healing Field

In 2007 I was interviewed by writer Jarvis Hammond for his book A Year of Festivals. He was travelling the globe attending a selection of hand picked, diverse events with the question What makes the perfect festival?

I can answer him now as I have just had the perfect festival experience. I'm skipping Glastonbury this year, but couldn't resist a brief site visit when Mark from Sams sauna called to invite me on.

I bussed to Pilton village in full festival regalia: trilby, bodywarmer, long socks, wellies. A shoulder  bag contained well rehearsed essentials: bottle of spring water, a towel, waterproof trousers, a change of socks, sunscreen. I didnt have a pass or a ticket, I figured that the gate crew would still be in fluffy early bird mode and let me through.

View down to railway tracks, Green Fields

Polished aviator shades, an earpiece and radio handset, shiny black bomber jacket: the security guard looked fearsome and efficient, he would be well within his rights to refuse me entrance. I trusted the higher law, that the universe would want me to have a sauna and hang out with my friends.

I suggested that he let me on and twirled my multi-coloured rainbow brolly in a submissive manner. If you're in a vehicle with a pass I havent seen you, was his gruff, benevolent reply. I retreated to the main gate  and looked for a likely lift.

I flagged down the Glastonbury Spring Water Company van, who declined me on account of their insurance. Fair enough. Moments later a muddy Landrover swung in, a face I recognised from ... somewhere. I grinned and waved enthusiastically. I know you, said the driver as he leaned across and opened the passenger door. I clambered in gratefully, finding space amongst sheepskins, water containers and piles of rope. He was local and I had taught yoga to his ex-wife.

We bounced along the tracks and I felt the excitement rising as I passed familiar landmarks, the bright nipple like points of the circus tent, the iconic pyramid stage. Rows and rows of toilets. The site was almost ready.

Craft field

As we passed Yeoman Bridge which leads to the Green Fields, it felt like a homecoming. The spaciousness and purity was breathtaking and despite recent heavy rain, the lush turf remained pristine and verdant, the tracks mercifully dry and mud free.

I enjoyed my sauna, it felt like a divine blessing to share the space with just one other person, Rose, a pretty, chatty teen. We shared a hot tub too. I craned my neck to absorb the majesty of the blue sky. I was happy, relaxed, feeling love. It was a perfect moment.

I met up with several friends who were crewing in other fields: Starcus with his infamous 50p Tea Tent; Les from Green Futures, an old, old friend who is very dear to me We discussed the summer ahead and he implored me to stay. Many hugs later I skipped joyfully across site and found myself at the bus stop in Pilton village.

Happiness is.... the company of good friends

It felt as though I had left a magic bubble and was re-entering the real world, whatever that is. My good fortune continued as almost instantly friends travelling back to Glastonbury town pulled up by the kerb and escorted me safely home.

As I walked home a neighbour called out, You're sparkling! In truth I was a little high. Enlivened and energised by the buzz of the festival and with an open, warm heart overflowing with emotional nourishment. A great vibration to hold within myself and radiate out to the world.

A perfect festival experience.

Find out more about Jarvis Hammond's project A Year of Festivals