Glatonbury 2016. The year of mud and madness.

​I was planning on quietly uploading a few pics for the few friends who may be interested. However, Glasto being Glasto, the weird and wonderful encounters feel like they deserved some sort of acknowledgment. So for those who are interested, here are some choice Glasto 2016 oddities for your reading pleasure, if you are so inclined.

* “Look at this, I’ve got his eye in my hand.”

Top WTF moment goes to the girl who was excitedly rushing through the festival holding her friend’s glass eye in her hand. This, as said eyeless friend ambled bleary and empty eye-socketed behind. She thrusted her prize wares into the face of a revolted middled aged lady who recoiled in horror and politely declined her offer. 

* Hippy Wisdom

Upon meeting a chatty drunk irishman in a bar, he imparted his prized hippy intelligence which I will duly share with you; if you sing the following to a hippy in a reggae accent with accompanying reggae dance, any hippy will know what exactly what you mean:

“Play with fire, fire burns ya,

Play with puppy, puppy licks ya hand”

Nup, me neither. No, we didn’t test his theory.

* “Sorry to interrupt the romantic moment but I’m going to have a piss on the floor.” 

Unfathomable interruption of the festival goes to the girl who tapped us on the shoulder during one Adele’s particularly sloshy ballads to inform us of her desire to piss in mud behind us. We looked at her wordless and clearly with enough disgust that she got stage fright and took her beer-widdle to loos. In the words of Sir Michael of Eavis – DON’T PISS ON THE LAND.

* “My woodchip brings all the boys to the yard and they’re like, it’s better than yours”

The mud. 2016 was the year of every version of mud your nightmares can only dream of. Thankfully, the farmy folk were on hand to curtail it as best they could with wood chip trucks. At one particular mud bath, the stewards desperately tried to keep the crowds back as the truck reversed in, resulting in a group of witty pissheads to lead the crowd into a rousing rendition of Kelis’ Milkshake… naturally replacing milkshake for woodchip. The crowd duly obliged and repeated to infinity. 

* All Hail Crisp Girl

You know how it is, you’re in the depths of The Common and you move to one side to replenish the booze from your rucksack and inadvertently become part of queue to the unknown. Just as we’re about to hop out, an excited Welsh girl in front thrust her Fish and Chip crisps in our faces and implored ‘Ave em, go on, ave em, they’re salt and vinegar. ‘AVE EM! ‘AVE EM!’ Would have been rude to say no so we gladly obliged. Finding ourselves inside the club of unknown she appeared again, this time with her favourite curry flavour fish and chip crisps and duly force fed us those too. She then sent us on our way with two bags of butterkist for good measure. Bless ya Crisp Girl.

* To Rim a Naked Butcher

Our attempt to check out the infamous gay bar within Block 9, was scuppered when we felt too cool to join the endless queue so decided to simply spectate the colourful shenanigans from outside with a gin and sprite (classy right?). There it appeared that the way to fast track the queue was to rim the naked-bar-butchers-apron dancer on stage. It seems you gotta do what ya got to do. I’d like to note that we weren’t going to do that. 

* Pat Butcher lives!

Stumbling away from the heady heights of Shangri-La we discovered Pat Butcher’s face, happily sloshing in the mud. Naturally we got a picture we a couple of passing randoms. One of which we later realised was painted blue. 

* Man dressed as hot air balloon attempts to leave bar.

Yes, as you can imagine it was amusing to watch a drunk person navigate the physics of a low doorway whilst dressed as a hot air balloon.

* Rap Masters

No festival is complete without two mud covered chavs rapping their way through the crowds. The crux of their beatboxing rap was “I’m going to love you like…”. Apparently amongst other ingenious thoughts, they would love you like a can of coke, a velociraptor, a hoe and a mongoose. Enticing stuff. Where was their Pyramid headlining slot I hear you say?

* It Must Be Love, Love, Love.

Final shout out goes to the awesome New York Brass band who roamed the Circus Field playing cheesy pop classics on Thursday afternoon. With a huge crowd following their every toot, dancing in the sunshine, they burst into a fabulously jolly rendition of Madness’ It Must Love. Little did we know it was all part of an elaborate set up for a guy to propose to his boyfriend. Magic innit. 

Bloody love Glastonbury.


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