Rubbish!

OK. OK. Clearly you guys aren't getting it.

This is a bin.

Bins can be tricky, I'll give you that. Essentially, what you do is take your rubbish to them, and then you put the rubbish in the opening at the top.

Now, yes, at the festival site some of them have words on them, I know this means it takes a few milliseconds longer to figure out which bin you need to put your rubbish in? Is it a plate?

If so, put it in the bin marked 'plates and cups'. If it's left over food - put in in the bin that said 'food waste'.. do you see where I'm going with this?

See - the motto is "Love the Farm, leave no trace" - not "Have a wicked weekend, then dump all your stuff and leave it for someone else to clean up."

This was the scene at Worthy Farm shortly after the gates closed and the last of us had trudged off the site.

Note the rubbish. Note the tents. Note the mess.Michael Eavis very kindly lets you come to his house, traipse all over his farm, camp out, hang with friends, listen to some of the coolest bands around, he lets you get drunk, he lets you turn his fields into camping sites, churn them up with your welly boots.


He coughed up an extra £3,000 so that Springsteen could bang on for an extra nine minutes for your enjoyment.

He allowed artists onto his fields to create sculptures, installed a stone circle, opened up a dimension to allow Trash City and Arcadia to move into our planes of existence.

He even moves his cows out for the weekend so you don't have to worry about getting your little footsies in cow poo and you can have the best weekend possible.

And this is how you repay him?

By leaving your rubbish all over the place? By ditching your tent because you can't be bothered to carry it out? By smuggling in bottles of drink?

For the next three weeks, more than 300 people will spend time picking up after you - they will even shift through the rubbish in the hope of reuniting you with your mobilephone/carkeys/guitar/wallet that got separated from when you had one too many ciders up in the Kings Meadow and fell into the stream.

Oh yes, you'll rush from stage to stage, hike over a 1,100 festival site, you'll walk to the Stone Circle with burst blisters and wellies that have tried to carve your feet into fillets to see a sunrise, but you won't walk three metres to a bin and use it?

Hang your collective heads in shame.