Festivals. Warm beer. Crap toilets. Daft headwear. On the plus side, they offer a chance to discover wonderful new music, drink cider all weekend with impunity and reinvent yourself as a vegan tree-hugging eco-warrior. Below we present a selection of our writers’ festival experiences: the Good, the Bad, and the Unsanitary (along with a few handy tips on some essential items to take with you).
Beth Kirkbride
Everyone hates those people who form a conga line with their friends and push to the front of a crowd. But I’m ashamed to admit that I became one of ‘those people’ for Biffy Clyro at Leeds Festival in 2013. I dragged my friend forward with me and – amazingly – we got right to the barrier. We’d arrived late because I had forced her to see Spector and so I felt like I had to make it up to her. Rain is enough to dampen anyone’s spirits, but when you’re stood under massive jets of flame like we were, you don’t mind so much. My worst festival experience happened the very same year – my friend drunkenly left our tent door open on the first day, in the rain. For the rest of the weekend I was wearing soggy clothes, sleeping in a soggy sleeping bag (with a complimentary puddle of water for a pillow) and eating soggy cereal. The one item I’d say is essential for festivals (besides dry shampoo and baby wipes) would have to be bin bags. They’re great in that they’re multi-functional. Because I’m a bit of a neat freak, I could dispose of all the evidence from the night before, which meant our camp wasn’t an assault course for drunk people. They can also be used to keep whatever dry/clean stuff you have left separate. Also – word of warning – do NOT under any circumstance think a ukulele is an essential item. Don’t be that guy.
Dan Bull
I always say that I couldn’t choose a favourite Glastonbury (of the four I’ve been to) as they’ve all been amazing, different experiences; however, if I was pushed I might have to choose 2009. Not only was it my first Glastonbury, it was also my first festival. After a nightmare 16 hour journey (that should have taken six), losing our cases and being welcomed by drunks in masks and dimly lit paths, I was sure that festivals weren’t for me. The tents were so close they were touching, the toilets were open air; everything, everywhere was loud. It was probably sometime during the afternoon on day two that I realised that Glastonbury was my favourite place on earth. The line-up was incredible (Hot Chip, Blur, Yeah Yeah Yeahs, Passion Pit, Pendulum, Lily Allen, Fleet Foxes, Noisettes…) but more importantly, I didn’t – and haven’t ever – seen any sort of animosity or aggression. Glastonbury goers go to Glastonbury because they love music and they love life (HIPPIES!). (Even those who go to say they’ve been must take something from it, I’m sure.) As for my worst experience, that would have to be the toilets at any festival on the Monday morning. It’s as if they always forget that people stay for the Sunday too. And the thing I couldn’t do without? An empty two litre bottle: lager and cider go straight through me, and there’s no way I’m fighting my way out of the crowd and back in again.
Elli Brazzill
My best festival experiences have been at Wilderness Festival in Oxfordshire. It’s four days of absolute bliss and happiness. I’ve been for the last two years and will be there again this year. I’ve seen some incredible bands and artists there (Empire of the Sun, Rodrigo y Gabriela, Sharon Jones and the Dap Kings), but one of my favourite memories is when I met the politest drug dealer in the world. I was sat outside the tent with my friends, when two young guys came up to us and asked “Would anyone like to buy some ketamine or MDMA?” When we politely declined he got really upset and said “I’m sorry! I don’t want to peer pressure or force you into drugs!” These are the people you meet at Wilderness (along with nutters in goat masks, but that’s a different story). My essential festival item is simply wipes. Facial wipes, baby wipes, or any type of wipes will get you through what is likely to be one of the dirtiest experiences of your life. Even if threre isn’t a mud swamp on your campsite, just wiping your hands can feel like a whole new lease of life, it’s really that refreshing. Oh, and also my tiger hat. I bought it at Cambridge Folk Festival and it’s my personal essential. When I’m drunk I think I look really cool in it.
Jenny MacVicar
Both my best and worst festival experiences were in the space of the same weekend at Glastonbury 2013. Why was it my best festival experience? Well, Glastonbury is undoubtedly the best festival in the world, so when I was finally able to go every second lived up to my expectations. Until you go it’s hard to explain why it’s better than every other festival, but it just is. The sheer size and amount of things to see added with a great line up and atmosphere made up the best weekend of my life. Seeing Arctic Monkeys for the first time was pretty special; well worth enduring Dizzee Rascal beforehand and elbowing my way through a sea of snapbacks during his performance just so I could be at the barriers and that one bit closer to Alex Turner. And Dizzee was actually fun. My worst festival experience (other than the toilets, having stuff stolen on the first day and getting mud all over my clothes on the first night) was seeing a man getting stuck under one of the toilet trucks that come and empty the pits of hell that are the portaloos – who wants to see that after coming back from a palm reading experience in the hippy tent? (I hope he was okay.) Going to a festival is an experience you won’t forget, whether it was good or a bad, but trust me – you will have a much better time if you remember your best friend for the weekend: baby wipes.
Kate Tittley
As an older, more hair conscious person, I have now realised that camping is not for me. But back in the day, when all I needed was a bit of talc and a novelty hat, V Festival was our mini-break of choice (conveniently placed about a 20 minute drive from my Mom’s too). The year was 2005, the weather was good and we were battering the Aussies in the Ashes, when about 30 of us from school headed down for the weekend. Obscure highlights included a particularly mashed member of the party consistently shouting at Ian Brown during a magnificent set to play ‘Is This The Way To Amarillo’ (he thought Ian was Tony Christie), though, unfortunately he did not. We also managed to organise an impromptu, yet perfectly executed, acoustic version of The Futureheads’ ‘Hounds Of Love’ at the campsite (I have personally mythologised this moment so much that whenever I think about it now it resembles a scene from Glee). Musically, I enjoyed mind blowing sets from The Hives, The Prodigy (where my feet literally did not remain on the ground for the full set and I touched Maxim) and the world’s biggest karaoke in the form of Oasis – still, it was a blinder. In the years previous I’d had beautiful experiences with The Distillers, Red Hot Chili Peppers and Foo Fighters. Perhaps I peaked early with festivals, but I do fancy giving something like No6 a try, with my own WigWam… and a hairdryer.
Lea Monsenego
Queuing for nearly two hours to visit the creepy, wobbly plastic shacks they called ‘toilets’ and having to drink hot, tasteless tea in a beer cup instead of actual beer was not really what I was looking for when I went to the 2012 Mainsquare Festival in France. We’d arrived late and I’d already missed Pearl Jam and Skip The Use. Now it was raining, I was wet, muddy and desperate to pee, but there were hundreds of people ahead of me in the queue, which is how I missed Within Temptation, Birdy Nam Nam, and half of The Kooks (though all sounded good from the toilet area). After the long and unsanitary visit to the toilet, I headed back to the Green Room stage, soaked and covered in mud from my feet to my hips. I was in desperate need of a beer, but the bar had run dry of booze, and the only thing they were offering was some form of tea. I was so cold that I consoled myself with a blend of cha that tasted like sock juice mixed with toilet disinfectant. Pissed off with the terrible weather and the lack of alcohol, people had stated to leave the festival, which was sad as Miles Kane played an amazing set. Fortunately, the rest of the weekend turned out to be fantastic: I had a great time with my friends, despite the tough beginning. Sometimes there’s nothing better than a slightly shitty festival to strengthen a friendship!
Oliver Evans
In terms of festivals I usually stick to my local country romp, Festibelly, which has featured artists such as Bastille, Gold Panda, Hollie Cook, and Kyla La Grange. I wasn’t short of mad moments there, but when I went to Bestival things took a turn towards the surreal. Not only did I have to guide a drunken stranger who’d lost her mates back to her tent (and who claimed multiple tents were hers despite none of the inhabitants knowing her), but I also almost walked into a marriage by accident. What I didn’t know on entering the inflatable church at Bestival was that the weddings are in fact real. What’s more, I realised the morning after that I had nearly married my mate; only the fact that I’d left my money back at the tent prevented us from tying the knot. At the time I was more worried about someone sticking a pin in the church and ending up covered in heavy plastic, but there we go. While death by inflatable church would be a hell of a way to go, hopefully this year’s Bestival will bring many more weird yet wonderful memories.
Paul Sng
Glastonbury, 1995. We arrive at Worthy Farm on the Wednesday before the festival officially kicks off in a knackered old transit van that makes Del Boy’s three-wheeled van look like a reliable means of transport. Someone suggests that we pitch our tents while it’s still light, which is one of only two sensible decisions we will make over the next several days (the other being to not eat anything and instead line our stomachs with Guinness each day in order to avoid needing to poo – actually, make that one sensible decision). In the wee hours of Thursday morning we meet an old hippy who’s a cross between Catweazle and Danny the drug dealer from Withnail & I. He shares with us the secret to the festival: seek out people whose names begin with the letter ‘P’. We decide to put his theory to the test, and to our great surprise, it works; over the course of the weekend we catch sets from the Prodigy, Plastikman, Pulp, Portishead, and Polly Harvey. Other highlights include Massive Attack and Carl Cox in the Dance Tent, plus a bizarre afternoon spent watching a Circus of Horrors show. However, as anyone who has been will testify, the best thing about Glastonbury is wandering aimlessly from one area to the next and stumbling across something unexpected and fascinating (i.e. not Ed Sheeran). I’ve been to other festivals since, but nothing compares to my first Glastonbury (which I also have to thank for inspiring the essential item I recommend for any festival: a good supply of Guinness).
Elliott Homer
When it comes to festivals, the first time (like so many things) is often either the best or the worst you will ever experience. Sometimes it’s a little of both. Not being much of a fan of camping, inclement weather or dodgy burger vans, I had avoided festivals for a good number of years before the allure of the 2005 Reading Festival line-up finally lead to losing my festival cherry. I was so excited I couldn’t sleep the night before. Or the night before that. Needless to say, the train ride down was a bit touch-and-go but despite the increasing effects of sleep deprivation (i.e. not really knowing who or where I was most of the time) I could have sworn I actually enjoyed the likes of Goldie Lookin’ Chain, Dropkick Murphys and The Dead 60s. In fact, as the music got better so did I; Lullabies…-era QOTSA, Elbow before they became national treasures, Graham Coxon, what’s not to love? It was at some point during The Killers’ set – ‘Midnight Show’ if memory serves – that I went to find a toilet and summarily passed out by the bins behind the NME Stage. To this day, I still haven’t seen that year’s headliners, the reformed Pixies, and since Kim Deal’s departure I now never will. According to the majority of sources, I didn’t miss much but I will always have an odd mixture of happiness and regret when I remember my first festival experience.
Paul Sng
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