A few observations:
I never cease to be amazed at how many creative, hard to find little venues there are which when you do get to them are already full of people partying. Coming back from the SE Corner one night through the Healing Fields (I think) we stumbled across the Magic Teapot, a little hut full of revellers singing Tainted Love whilst someone led on the piano. Glastonbury is a huge canvas that lots of artists are allowed to paint their little bit of and it makes for many surprises.
Littering. Bins everywhere yet still some can’t be bothered to walk a few feet to use them. I’m not talking about those squashed at the front of the Pyramid Stage where it’s not so easy. The volunteers picking it up are quite sanguine about it though except for wet wipes which they hate and those little plastic shot glasses which shatter into tiny shards that are sold by enterprising folk unsanctioned by the festival.
Middle class and middle aged? Often an accusation lazily thrown at Glastonbury but either by the envious or the ignorant. There’s certainly elements of that in the gentler areas but spend an hour or so in the Spaceport in the Glade area to see how rough and tumble a Glastonbury crowd can be. There’s all sorts at the festival, part of what makes it special.
The variety of fun on offer is difficult to fathom. I imagine there’s plenty of people who went last week and spent their time doing tango lessons (which I also dabbled in), listening to poety, seeking out favourite comedians, going to woodcraft workshops, going to one of the cinemas, looking after their children in one of the vast kids areas. I’ve met people who have never even heard of Arcadia, what the hell did they think had been shooting all that fire into the sky every night?!
