Saturday, 7 August 2010

Mark 2

So, I'm sat here in the grounds of Glastonbury Abbey, a little worse for wear after a few ciders and waiting for Madness.

This is a whole world away from the festival, there's a guy sat near me wearing a pullover and smoking a real-life pipe.

An actual pipe!

People have picnic tables. Its weird. There's hardly a flag in sight. I'm sat on a camping chair, for goodness sake.
But Madness are due on stage and Steve cockney Harley rebel motorcycle gang have just finished their set by playing the only one of their songs I know.

There's festival bins, what looks like the jazz world stage and screens.

Oh my word. People are telling other people to sit down.

The stage is the wrong shape, rounded instead of pointy, but its close enough to make me nostalgic and start counting the days down till next year.

The sun is setting over the Abbey, and its like a little bit of Pilton made it to my hometown.



Tom Stephenson said...

Turn around and go to the Abbey Tea Rooms, Laura. Stop wasting these fleeting summer evenings. Night-night.

Tom Stephenson said...

P.S. 'Come on Ireen'?

bloodbank said...

It was a lovely night with lots of very drunk off there feet walking and swaying home.

bloodbank said...

Thats people I mean saw one man of twilight years a falling flat on his face breaking the bulb on his little torch strapped to his forehead as he crawled nearer and nearer to the ground then finally collapsed in a heap on the floor leggless right outside the Heritage Court of course we were to young to be let in there you Pilton youngsters have no idea who got there first.