Do you remember how to get there? Yes, that's right, down through the tents to the main through road, hang a left. Right down the path near the toilets, passed the other toilets at the bottom, hang a left, past the lock-ups, right at the crossroads, down to the main intersection and right towards John Peel. Sorted!
So on we go past the wall of pics (I guess it has a better name, but that's what I'll call it)...
Into Dance Village. Plenty of folks milling around, so we sort of bimble about the area.
I may as well take this opportunity to bang in a pic of Cube Henge too. As the name suggests, it's a collection of blocks (cubes) that resemble Stone Henge. Please tell me that you get the name now.
Apparently, at night time, they light up and change colour. I can't testify to this, as was never in the Dance Village late enough.
Okay, ten minutes to go (ten to nine), so we head over to the tent. Beardyman (look him up) has been playing prior to BG, so it's pretty busy. We meander through the looser crowd on the approach to the tent and eventually, it gets slightly more packed at about 20m away from the perimeter - still damn busy then.
At this point we're treated to a "young, posh, type" in a England rugby top with his mates. He's evidently desperate for a pee and is trying to do so in an empty cider bottle.... badly, very badly. He's missing the bottle completely and mostly getting a shoe full of piss. Better than this, the shoes he's wearing is like furry boot things. Justice indeed.
The next "treat" is two girls (20-ish) pushing their way out of the tent. They stop by me and ask who's on next. When I tell them that it's Boy George, both of them start jumping up and down whilst whooping with delight. After a few minutes of this, one of them stops, looks the other right in the eye and says.... "Who's Boy George?". You couldn't make it up. Here is the crowd BEHIND us. Yes, as it was one of the first gigs of the festival, it was busy!
So, 9 o'clock comes and goes. A few cheers, but they're false alarms. Ten past, and a few folk start whinging (including me). You can be "fashionably late" for your own gigs, but this is Glasto, Mr O'Dowd.
The minutes continue to pass. A group of guys next to us are equally getting restless, "Come on George, you big poof", gets a big laugh from all around.
We give it until half past and then decide to move on.
Somewhere along the lines Jo grabs a tray of nachos. These are worthy of a mention because, in my opinion, they were probably the best looking plate of grub for £7. Unfortunately, I never got round to trying some.
Where now?
Arcadia and Shangri-La, that's where!
I'm not even sure that I can attempt to describe these places. I don't even have any photos. Maybe I was a bit in awe of how brilliant they were. Jaw-dropping.
Sort of a futuristic come Mad Max type of thing.
Check out this (official) video of Arcadia and you'll get the idea...
And just to prove that we were there, here's my poor attempt
I'm not going to say anymore about those two places, not Block 9 where I didn't manage to visit. You will just have to go yourselves.
The time was now pushing midnight and Jo disappeared off to her tent. Myself and Andy were still up for a bit more liveliness, so we headed off to find a reggae tent that we had seen earlier. Great atmosphere in the tent itself and quite a bit of dancing to be had. After an hour or so, I decided too, to knock it on the head. I managed to get myself back to my tent by just after 2am, and sat down to take in the view over a nightcap of red wine.
Happy Days! But guess what? The festival actually starts tomorrow!
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