Earlier this week 180,000 people began their yearly pilgrimage to a small town in Somerset, which will be the host of a huge party featuring over 50 stages and countless acts.
That all sounds great in theory but here’s why I’m glad I’m not going:
1. I will have a bed
Yup, that’s right festival-goers, for the next 5 days I will have a bed. Rather than sleeping on the cold, hard earth in a sleeping bag, hoping my tent doesn’t flood I will be experiencing the peak of comfort. Rather than hearing incessant chatter and pulsating dance music when I’m trying to sleep, I’ll have beautiful silence.
Not that you sleep much at festivals anyway, but still.
2. I don’t have to join the mad scramble
This weekend I definitely won’t be lugging around a massive rucksack filled with vodka, Strongbow, and tins of Heinz baked beans whilst desperately trying to find a camping spot close to one of the stages.
I guess the chill out session once you’ve set up your tent, and cracked that first can of lager is a really, really awesome moment, but I think we all know who’s winning. Right… right?
3. I will be entirely mud-free
Instead of trying to avoid the fruit loop who caked himself in mud and took so many drugs that he now wants to hug everything in sight, I’ll be in a city, where that kind of behaviour is entirely frowned upon.
Come to think of it though, I’ve never actually seen this at a festival, only ever in the footage that appears on BBC Three’s coverage… But I’m sure that this is a totally legit concern. 100% sure…
4. I don’t have to listen to people chatting nonsense about druids
The stone circle is (in)famous for being Glastonbury’s ‘spiritual’ centre. (Read: there’s loads of folks on drugs there) Situated on a hill overlooking the rest of the festival, it’s the perfect place to sit and chill out, gazing over the mass of tents and bodies below.
That is, until some weirdo claiming to be a druid comes over and tries to sell his bizarre spiritual philosophy to you. Sorry, I’m not buying it bud.
5. I’m £200 better off
Thanks to my lack of a ticket, my bank account has survived a £200 dent. The world is basically my oyster now. Nicolas Cage Box set for £70 at HMV? Why not. The bill at a restaurant for the group comes to £130? I’ve got this, guys.
Some totally legit looking guy flogging a PS4 on the street corner for £200? Bargain! Except, well, I can’t have any of those things. The only reason I didn’t get a Glastonbury ticket in the re-sale is that I couldn’t afford it. But my point still stands… right guys?
6. I can watch everything from my sofa
Whilst you suckers are all being rained on, I can watch Metallica on BBC Three HD, counting out every hair in James Hetfield’s beard whilst drinking a cup of warm…
… oh who the fuck am I kidding?
Enjoy the festival you lucky, lucky rascals. I’m jealous of every single one of you. If you need me, I’ll be moping in front of BBC Three with a cup of tea and a frown.
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