Saturday, 26 June 2010

The heat is on

I am so disgusting right now. I'm sweating in places I didn't know I was capable of sweating in. Did you know your knees could sweat? Well, take it from me, they can. So can your neck, your torso and your stomach.

The biggest cheer I've heard all day was reserved for a passing cloud, which blocked out the sun before Reef came on stage and provided some desperately needed shade. Shade's a precious commodity here, and in the dry dustbowl of the site, you can find people clustering beneath anything that can offer the smallest shelter, like goats in an African desert.

The press tent is a sticky, smelling meeting places where journalists hunch, the men stripped to the waist and panting, the women fanning themselves with notepads and laptops and anything that comes to hand. If a few years ago they were comparing it to trench warfare, now it's being called Hades.

Ok, ok. What've I been doing?

Reef.



A reasonably small crowd for Reef, but a huge smile from the boys who looked like they were having the best time ever. Apparently it being sunny for Glastonbury is a 'tickle' and there was a shout-out for Roger Wilkins, which sorted out the locals from the tourists. Gary was all smiles and triumph, and practically giddy with excitement and was just beaming at the reception Place Your Hands got from the crowd.

Shortly after that, it was Coheed and Cambria, and to start with there was no-one there to see them, except for a few hardcore fans. I suppose that's what you get for calling yourself something that sounds like a folk act instead of something like Ultra Kill Death Squad. Still, some smog, and few power chords and some riffs filling the air and the crowds came running. Certainly seemed to wake the field up. I wish I actually knew the names of their songs to tell you what they were playing, but it was basically the Armory Wars trilogy, and it was truly, truly epic.

Following that, it was a sprint to the Avalon Field to the Wurzels. Thankfully, good old Q daily had added it to their 'must see' list, and, waving a red rag to a bull pointed out "you're in Somerset, you're drinking cider, go and see the Wurzels already" and about 20,000 people decided that sounded like awesome fun.

So the field was packed out, apparently a first. With some reasonably impressive mobile phone navigation and jumping and waving, I managed to locate my sister ("Through the wicker foxes, keep going, keep going, keep going...can you see me? I'm under a red and black flag, and I'm waving. Now I'm waving a copy of heat and jumping. Stick your hand up. There I am. Can you see me? Right in front of you. Here! Here!")

The Wurzels were late coming on stage, because there were so many people there that security had to make an announcement, when they came on, they received the reception usually granted to the Muses and Jay-Z's of this world. When they did come on, it was blackbirds, cider, tractors and Shepton Mallet matadors all over the place, before being treated to a rare rendition of Good Old Somerset, which I'm claiming responsibility for, since I interviewed Tommy on Thursday and told him that my Dad had requested the song be played at his funeral (although he was a little bit cidered-up at the time.

We were encouraged to drink up our cider (clearly we needed the encouragement) and then bounced around to their new single Ruby (oooh-aar ooh-aaar oooh-arrrr..)


Dear Mr Eavis. Please can they have a bigger stage next year? (See how I've decided they're playing?) It's bring the house down.


Took a wander around the Avalon fields to say hi to some local businesses and then staggered back here, delirious enough with thirst to pay something stupid for a bottle of 7-Up.

Have apparently walked 4882 steps today, my feet, which are finally starting to throb, disagree. That's not as far as I was expecting, but I suppose I didn't really have to move more than a few feet from Reef to C&C and the Avalon Stage where the Wurzels are is kinda right next to the Avalon Fields, so that makes sense.

Have scouted out a Sausage/Mash/Yorkshire Pudding combo for dinner, am trying to figure out if I'll have enough energy to catch Ed Byrne in the Cabaret tent later. I quite fancy a sit down and a bit of a laugh instead of Muse, since I've seen them anyway.

Slash tomorrow! Don't forget to watch the football, everyone else. Me and Slash need some private time.

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