Glasto: The Day After

Posted by Tammy Croucher on 6 September 2010 | 0 Comments

Tags: Lifestyle, Events

Glastonbury is so much more than wellies and mud...in fact, there was none of that in sight this year with six days of sunshine and sunburns replacing raincoats. 

Yeah it's great for music, and yeah there was a special surprise performance by Thom York.  Whatever. I could go into great length telling you about all the incredible things you already know as far as the mother ship of music festivals is concerned...but there is a whole other side you would never even know about unless you were lucky enough to get your mitts on the elusive G ticket.  Not that I'm trying to rub it in, it's just that there are no words describe the weird ass shit one comes across at this musical metropolis.  Where else in the world can you lie down in a tee pee with Jarvis Cocker tickling his fingers over some turntables and receive an Indian head massage at the same time?  As we travelled on foot around the legendary farm in Somerset, we came across many things one would not expect to stumble upon whilst munching on a kebab and necking back pear cider...such as a wall made entirely out of VHS tapes. For example.  A sleeping woman moulded together with nothing other than human hands, sand and water.   Goddesses in gold jackets were abundant selling perfectly rolled joints to those in need, a man dressed as some kind of new age gypsy selling what he called 'albatross' but in actual fact were just some kind of Indian pastry.  Old mate tried to flog us one of his self made albums to, but with our Australian charm and all the love that seems to ooze from this place we managed to cop one for free.   Which reminds me...where is that bloody thing? It was just amazing me to me that people from all over the world, from all different backgrounds, with a zillion different tastes could come together in unity and say a big 'fuck you' to conformity and just be yourself.  What a novel thought.