As the Sun sets in…
As the festival season approaches and tickets for Glastonbury are already sold out, I’ve caught myself mournfully eyeing up my wellies. It’s time to accept it. This year I will not be going to any festivals. I’m rather bitter about this, but I just don’t have the money when I’m saving up for plane tickets to spend a semester in the States. At least, that’s what I tell myself, but I know I could probably cut out some of my extravagant food shops, not buy any new clothes, and start getting the coach instead of the train.
“the memories of last summer are still a little too fresh”
So the problem must run a little deeper. I clearly lack the motivation to make these painful self-sacrifices. And I think I know why. I think the memories of last summer are still a little too fresh.
My Old Lady Rant
“I’d rather buy the expensive cheese”
Yes, being sat on someone’s shoulders trying to catch Bob Dylan’s eye as I sang along to Like a Rolling Stone was probably the highlight of my year. But I paid for it. (Let’s ignore the fact that my Nan did too, and bore it with more grace) Being British, this is inevitably going to turn into a rant about the weather: it was so unbearably hot! My pale skin, though covered in thick layers of high factor sun cream, just couldn’t take it. Not being able to sleep, or have sex, because your skin is too sore, only to be woken by the heat at seven in the morning and finding yourself unable to get the sweat off your skin for long enough to put on deodorant, before desperately trying to find a tap that isn’t running out of water so you can queue for forty minutes to rehydrate yourself only to then have to queue again to face the hell of the Portaloo… somehow makes me think I’d rather buy the expensive cheese and that pretty summer dress I’ve been eyeing up. Of course, next year, I might not be so wise.
So, if you insist upon playing the fool, have a look through our festival guide!