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This is a question Festivals

Mud, rubbish sex, food poisoning and the Quo replacing the headline act you've mortgaged your house to see. Tell us your experiences

Question from Chart Cat

(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:33)
Pages: Latest, 13, 12, 11, 10, 9, ... 4, 3, 2, 1

This question is now closed.

Ancient History.
Ah memories. My first festival. Knebworth. 1979. LED ZEPPELIN! There were many mishaps (We hitched from Durham to the Festival), sunburn, dehydration, dire-rear, drunkenness, the discovery that sleeping in plastic bags makes you wet and cold, but one has stood the test of time.

We spent the afternoon drinking our way through two shopping trollies worth of various booze, watched various bands and sunbathing. I’m certain some substances were used also but it was long ago, far away and feels like a different country in my memory. And we weren’t the only ones. About 4 yards away a bunch of drunken Geordies were trying their best to drink the festival dry. And almost succeeded. To the extent that when the mighty Zep appeared they were all smashed out of their skulls and mostly asleep. Yes, the drunken cunts slept through one of the best Led Zeppelin gigs there has ever been.

*Calendar leaves fall away to the winter of 2000*

A new member of staff joins our happy band. Steve, two months older than me and from Gateshead. As often happens we start to reminisce about our many shared life experiences. We got to discussing festivals attended and told stories of exploits and incidents. After I’d told him the above story he was laughing heartily.
“Yeah,” I said. “What a bunch of daft twats.”
“Not really,” Says he. “That was me and me mates. We’d only gone to see Todd Rundgren.” At that point I told him he really was a daft twat and we’ve been mates ever since.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 14:26, Reply)
The biggest baddest festival I ever went to
Was the School Harvest festival.
Out of tin cans I made a cannon one year and a rocket the next.
Good times.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 14:25, Reply)
Another question that I cannot contribute to.
Due to the fact that I've avoided festivals like a mutant plague of zombies. Due, mainly, to the following reasons:
I hate people.
I hate loud noise/music.
I like sleep.

Nope, give me an old man pub, with a good landlord and some friends and I'm content.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 14:18, 14 replies)
Reading '04.
A really muddy year at Reading after a week or so of rain previous.

I was wandering around at about 2am and watched a guy try and take a shortcut through some mud which had been cordoned off. He started to sink.
After about a minute or so, he was stuck up to his chest. By then a large group had gathered around and we began to chant ''WANKER, WANKER!'' at him. Fire brigade arrived to rescue him but stood around for a minute and chanted at him with us before dragging him out.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 14:18, 1 reply)
Beware the Fudge
Reading Festival 2000 on the Saturday night. The line up was shall we say, not one of their finest.

We went to see Pulp and in the middle of the second song, Jarvis Cocker stopped the band mid song, demanded that all the houselights be switched on. The field was a mass of people silently staring at the stage, all drenched in bright white light. When he told the crowd to sit down, 60,000 people did so in a uniformed manner, leaving just me stood over the hordes. Sheepishly I sat down with everyone else awaiting further instructions, this was the start of a revolution or I was witnessing a mass coming together in front of a band I never really cared for.

Then it hit me. The back of my mates hand round my head. I'm sat in a puddle of mud, staring into the sky, soaked through, going through what I believe is a naked lunch moment.

In short, if you see a hippy called Kate selling fudge in the campsite, send her my best.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 14:17, Reply)
Download 06
One hell of a Hot weekend, No Glasto, the Prodigy booked to play a smaller stage, England in Euro 06. Metallica Blew G'n'R away. Axl Rose comes on Final Night of the festival. Complains about the Bottle throwing? What like he's never been to Dowload/Donnington before (last time G'n R where there 2 people died)
People were lighting fires in the Main Area, secutiity running around like Ants trying to put them out.
We being old farts over the age of 30 retire to our campsite, and are treated to the sight and sound of a Fekking massive bonfire punctuated by the steady boom of gas cannisters being chucked on and exploding. Evnetually we fall asleep, all in one tent for safety.
Somtime in the night Dowload campsite had become the set for Mad Max beyond Derby. Secutiry towers pulled down, lighting poles pulled down across the acsess routes to prevent fire engines reaching the fires.
That was all we could see. It was only when we got home and internet conections we found the full extent of what had happend. Riots, secutiry acting like thugs, Police charges.
All of which we slept through.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 14:05, 3 replies)
Festival Celebrity Encounter
At V a few years back in the VIP backstage bit.

I'd jammily managed to get myself a wristband, meaning a free bar, food, and proper toilets. Not exactly a purist's festival experience, but I wasn't going to complain.

Anyway, late on in the afternoon me and my friend had gone and had a wander, seen some bands, and settled back into the tent for some more sustenance before venturing out again. I was sitting on the grass finishing my burger when a hub-bub starts. I turned around to see what's going on, and there coming through the gate are Billie Piper and David Tennant, along with what I suppose you could class as an entourage, since they're famous, although it may well have just been mates. I had a look for second and went back to my beer.

This was just after Doctor Who had got going again, and inevitably, since the two of them were there together, loads of people were taking the opportunity to ask for autographs, get photos, or just go and say hello. They seemed to both be very nice and relaxed about it, and after a bit people just got on with things and left them to relax.

Anyway, a bit later I decide to get up and go for a wander to the nearest bar, intent on filling myself with as much free lager as possible since I have been provided with a comfortable loo in which to expel it. I got myself up, rather gracelessly, and lumbered over, but there's a couple of people standing having a chat right in front of the bar. I just wander over behind them and say 'Excuse me'

Nothing.

(louder and more impatiently)'Excuse me!'

The girl turns round, and sure enough, it's Billie. It took me a moment to take in just how massive her mouth is as she beamed a very nice smile at me.

Billie 'Hello!'

I was impressed with her professionalism in being so nice and obliging and obviously willing to deal with some drunken oaf who'd just bowled over and interrupted her. Even though, priorities....

Me: 'Er... can you move aside just for a second please, I'm trying to get to the bar?'

Billie 'Oh... Yeah of course'.

And that was that. Don't know if she was disappointed or relieved, really...
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 14:01, Reply)
A basic timeline of my activities at Glastonbury 2003
Thursday
5pm: Turn up.
8.00: Get very drunk and very stoned.
8.30: Try mushrooms for the first time.
9.30: Try ecstasy for the first time.
10.00: Try salvia for the first time.
10.05: Come back to earth.

Friday
10am: Recover.

Saturday
1.30: Go to Pyramid Stage.
1.45: Watch Jools Holland
3.00: Watch Jimmy Cliff
3.30: Realise we haven't put any sun cream on yet.
3.31: Put sun cream onto already burnt skin.
4.30: Watch the Polyphonic Spree
6: Watch the Turin Brakes
7.30: Watch Supergrass
9.00: Watch the Flaming Lips
9.30: Take an E.
10.00: Take another E.
10.20: Watch Radiohead. Die of sheer happiness.
12.00: Dance in the Glade for the next three hours.
3.00am: Go to the 24 Hour Energy Tent for more dancing until the sun comes up.
5am: Go back to the tent for bongs.
7am: Sleep.

Sunday
10.30am: Get woken up by the sun.
Rest of day: Wander round like zombies.
12 midnight: Fail to get into tent to watch the Chemical Brothers. Decide to go home instead.
12.45: Hit the wall and overturn car on a B road somewhere near Bristol.
1.15: Questioned by police about the half-ounce of cannabis they found in the car.
1.30: Get to hospital.
9.00: Leave hospital.
11.00: Get back home.
11.01: Sleep.

Best weekend of my life.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 14:00, Reply)
Well...
I was in this - www.youtube.com/watch?v=QMFO9Fis1gg

In this - www.youtube.com/watch?v=EMu8iMOE_SQ

And in this - www.youtube.com/watch?v=J1c5XjQSU0Y

That's how I've managed to leave every festival I've been to either bleeding, with a black eye, or both!
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:56, 5 replies)
The one and only festival
I've ever thought about going to was the Reading Festival when I was living in That London for a year or so while doing my Masters degree. I believe that Metallica were headlining that year which is why I wanted to go. Anyway, I bought my ticket for the usual extortionate price and recived it shortly aftterwards. One thin I didn't have was a tent though. I made my way to the nearest Asda as I'd head though ohers that were oing that they were selling cheap tents for something ridiculous like a fiver. I buys one and then someone tells me that these tents being so cheap haven't been made waterproof. Ah, thinks I, this country, even in the height of summer is not renowned for its ability to stay dry for more than five minutes so, rather than risk it I'll get some spray from a camping store and just do it that way.

Now, it's only a few days to go 'til the Festival and being the model of efficiency that I was I decided to get an early start and spray my tent so I wouldn't have to worry when I got there and was hammered/high. So I did. Did I say I was living in Halls of residence at the time and, apparently what they do to test fire alarms in this particular dump was to spray small amounts of perfume or other aerosol underneath the detectors. Did I also mention that, due to being drunk at the time, I decided to to this at 1:00am on a Wednesday?

I was not popular from then on.

Luckily I moved out shortly after this event and sold my ticket to a friend of a friend for face value.

Sort of a result but I would've liked to have gone.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:55, Reply)
Looking after my cousin
"Look out for your cousin, you're a year older than her," said my mother. I was 17 and obviously wise enough to know that at a festival, miles from home and with limited funds, one should not get completely trollied, shag the man from the fast food van, and wake up face down in a pile of gravel thus leading to cries of "Jesus! The scabs! The blood! What did you do to yourself?" all weekend. Yes, my cousin was much more foolish than me. Then again, she got free burgers.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:53, 1 reply)
Glastonbury a few years ago
I've never been, but I remember laughing heartily as I drove up the M5 not so far away as some of the most impressive lightning I've ever seen split the sky, accompanied by lashings of rain.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:52, 2 replies)
Download Festival
a few years back when they required you to get a wrist bracelet before you could go into the main pit area. can't remember much of that day to be honest...good reply eh?!
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:50, Reply)
Woo, 1st Page
Well 1st ever Festival was V 2003! Managed to squease 4 of us plus all the camping stuff we would need for a weekend of fun. Some friends had left before us in another car and we were to meet them there.

We got to the Site and set up tents and met other group who also meeting other people, We all go together on the first night as you do and got a little drunk, I was sitting next to this girl and being young and nieve she kept brushing my arm in a tickling way and for about 5 mins I could not figure out why and thought thats really annoying!!! Then after a little more drink and a few glances I got the idea (DURR) we ended up snogging striahg away and fondling all evening then people started to go to bed and she invited me into her tent.

We instantly went at it like Rabbits on heat but due to Alcohole I was screwing her for about 2 hours to the point the bottom of the tent was a large wet puddle but I just could not CUM so I did the right thing and letf to use the toilet and then never came back. Luckily I only saw her again once the whole weekend so all was good.

I look at it like this, At least she enjoyed it!
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:48, 2 replies)
Wacken 2007
It was the third year I'd been there. Each year the bands who were playing were better and better.

The third year I didn't like any of the bands. So I dedicated myself to drinking myself into oblivion. Nothing quite beats sitting in a deckchair in the blazing sun with a bottle of Pina Colada that cost less than a quid!

Well the day turned into night and I was still drinking. I vaguely remember kissing a girl who was camping near our group at some point. After that things are very blurry so I will go on what I was told to fill in the next parts.

I started drinking bottles of lager, which I hate with a passion normally reserved for Bobby Davro! Then I started smashing the bottles and telling everyone in the near vicinity that smashed bottles are the best bottles because they can't steal your soul then!

Then the young lady from earlier sat by me. At which point we both ate each others faces until I said in I imagine my best Roger Moore voice "I'm off to bed, you coming or what?"

I'll skip forward to where I remember things. I awoke in my tent, there was a girl next to me. Wearing my shirt! I was completely naked. With blood under my fingernails. AND ALL OVER MY CROTCH!

What the fuck had happened? I woke her up, asking her why the hell I looked like I'd been shagging a disembowled chicken. Was she a virgin?

"Oh no, I came on yesterday!"

At this point I asked the most important question I have ever asked and fortunately got an answer in the negative.

"Is there any blood on my face?"

Then I made her leave my tent and wept for a good hour!
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:47, 1 reply)
How to clear a field in two minutes (incorporating Sarah Cracknell's minge)
So, I paid good money to go to the Reading Festival one year.

One of the big drawers was Siouxsie and the Banshees, playing their first dates in absolutely YEARS, and there was much anticipation as a bumper crowd assembled in front of the main stage.

The band came on, they played their new single ("Kiss them for me"), the crowd cheered their anticipation, and Siouxsie stepped up to the mic to welcome the audience.

"We're not going to treat you like kids and play any of the old stuff... here's a track from the new album."

It was Spinal Tap Jazz Odyssey, all over again. I was pretty near the back, and the sight of 20,000 people physically slumping, saying "Fuck it" and wondering over to the second stage will live with me for a long time.

At the same festival I also saw Sarah Cracknell out of St Etienne's minge by mistake. That, too, will live with me for some time.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:47, 4 replies)
BERNARD!
A fair few Readings ago there was this annoying chap I will call c1.

He had a radio and a megaphone and liked to update the field we were camped in with all new football scores.

That is until the second day when someone decided to shut him up. This chap (c2) had a megaphone too and put it to good use. Here's all of the conversation that I remember. (I'm sure there was more but my drug addled memory fails me):

C2: "Shut up!"
C1: "No you shut up!"
C2: "Right, from now on your name is Bernard."
C1: "My one is bigger than yours Bernard."

Can;t remeber the rest.

For the rest of that Reading, and a couple after, the cry of "BERRRRNARD!" could be heard from all corners of the festival.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:46, Reply)
Quickie for a start
National Student Drama Festival 2006.

Experimentation on how much gaffa tape is needed to hold someone up.

Answer - 1 roll
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:45, Reply)
I had the good fortune
to go to Roskilde festival in 2007.

the year it was nearly closed down by Danish health officials. More rain fell in the 5 days before the festival than had in the previous 15 festivals combined I think, and the place was a mudbath from the get go.

I had my tent pre booked and pitched because it was akward enough to get there without lugging camping gear.

When we got to the tents they were under 4 inches of water. It was pissing rain, we'd travelled for about 14 hours on planes, trains and busses to get there, and now we'd no tents.

Ended up goping back to Copenhagen to book a hotel for the duration of the festival along with thousands of other people and getting the train in and out every day.

Then I saw the Flaming Lips, ate some Reindeer stew and had sex with an Icelandic girl. It was the best festival of all time.

I went again last year in the 40degree sunshine. It wasn't the same.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:44, 3 replies)
Somewhere in the BBC archives...
...is footage of me, drunk off my face being interviewed by a roving reporter at V98 while Blur play in the background. I am not sure why they picked me to talk to, but I was asked if I was having a good time. So I said ‘Yeah, but it’s not as good as Pulp last year’ and was asked ‘Why?’

My logic for this is odd, I admit, but my response was ‘Because Pulp had fireworks’

Which was met with a slight confused ‘Um…so do Blur, they’ve been going for 5 minutes’

How drunk do you need to be not to notice a huge firework display?
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:44, 1 reply)
hmmmmmm
I discovered an allergy while at a festival once. A street clown pulled me out of the crowd and put Zinc all over my face.

It burned my skin so bad I looked like a lobster.

that's about it. Oh. And I used to busk at the same festival - it was good money!
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:42, 2 replies)
7th!
I could be lazy and pea last weeks story as it involved me running round with my flange on display at Leeds 2004...but I shall think of something better.

*EDIT* 8th, damn!
actually, I have met the following at a number of festivals:
Ross Noble, Tim Minchin, Phill Jupitus - who was absolutely off his face and allowed his photo to be taken only on the condition that he could have some of my cornetto, Debbie Harry (although I'm ashamed to say I didn't realise until afterwards) Amanda Palmer, Bill Bailey, Billie whatsit, the lead singer of Green Day and who I think may have been Chris Martin but I was too pissed to tell. Or indeed care.
Festivals are amazing. Everyone should go...unless they have my bank balance, in which case they can't :(
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:42, 2 replies)
I've done V2003
with my sister and her then boyfriend at the time.

Highlights include leaving Coldplay's set and wandering over to the other stage where Feeder were playing.

Also hearing Everlong by the Foo's and getting involved in my first proper headbanging session during All My Life.

Hmm...

Actually, that was quite a dull story.

Apologies for length, at work and can't really show off.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:41, Reply)
I've never understood why people always brag about being one of the first to post.
Until now!


6th!

Posting has never felt so goooooood.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:41, Reply)
Rubbish timing
I'm off to the Isle of Wight festival next Friday, woo!
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:38, Reply)
Woo!
I was lucky enough (ahem) to get free tickets to see Lily Allen headline at a festival called SW1 in Clapham Common a few years ago.

I was with my ex-girlfiend and another mutual girl-friend at the time and as we had smuggled some druqs in to the venue we were all feeling a little excited and most of our inhibitions had been discarded at the entrance so set off wandering around the site half naked and smiling in the summer sun. Great days.

Having bored of Lilly Allen after a minute or so we headed off to listen to Howard Marks talk about drugs and smuggling etc* and while stood at the entrance to the tent (it was crowded inside) I felt someone pinch my bum (!).

Now I assumed that this was my missus so I did a quick 360 spin so I could stand behind her in that cuddly-from-behind-over-the-shoulder-cuddle that allows sweet nothings to be whispered in to my beloved's ear while also allowing me to massage her mammary’s for a while to enjoy the drug induced yet delightful stupor.

It was after a minute or so of this blatant cuppage that again someone pinched my bum (!). It couldnt possibly have been my bird or the girl we were with as she was stood a few feet in front of us so I turned around to confront the perpetrator of this wicked act hoping to either admonish them or leer at them and give a naughty wink depending on their level of attractiveness.

So I spin around to be confronted by a 13 or 14 year old girl and her teenybopper-boyfriend of a similar age.... Humph, I thought. She is way to young to be finding a 25 year old man like me attractive let alone have the confidence to pinch my arse so I let it drop and even though the young lass was smiling coyly at me I assumed that it must have been a passing joker playing tricks or perhaps someone who thought they knew me but scarpered when they realised that I was a total stranger. Nevermind - Life goes on.

It was only a few moments later when I felt a firm open-handed smack to my arse (!) that I spun around incredulously to confront the perpetrators and bellowed "Do you want to just fuck off or what?!" to the 13 year old couple while making a ham-fisted grab at the young ladies boob area in a self-righteous and half-arsed attempt at a purple-nurple which (I felt at the time) would have the desired effect of reinforcing my belief that young people in glass houses should not grab other peoples arses.

Duly reprimanded, the two youngsters stared open-mouthed at me and pointed off to the side of the tent where my good friend Jeremy was standing; laughing and pointing at me.

“He told us not to say anything”

There was nothing left for me to do accept release my vice group on her mini boob, back away slowly and steer my girlfriend away towards the bar to spend the rest of the day eyeing up police men and paranoid about being arrested for molesting a minor in public.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:37, Reply)
3rd
.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:36, Reply)
Seeping with The Enemy
2007 - the year Glastonbury organisers got smart: in an effort to beat ticket touting, you had to pre-register with a photo a few months in advance of tickets going on sale.

Whilst preventing touts being able to buy up loads of tickets and sell them on at rates more hideously inflated than Piers Morgan's ego, it also made it more difficult for groups of friends* to buy tickets together.

*More specifically, my group of friends

Basically, you had to enter everyone's registration number separately to get tickets. My mate Jim (who we had stupidly put in charge of obtaining the tickets) somehow managed to only enter my number and then completed the online form, thinking he would be able to go through again and complete it for everyone else separately. The website was swamped. He never got back on.

The group of us were fairly angry with Jim (me less so than the others - I had a ticket, after all). We all tried again a few weeks later when some more tickets were released, but we were unsuccessful again.

I'd never been to Glasto before, and was pretty keen to go, so I set about looking for other friends who had tickets - there had to be someone, surely?

Upon further investigation, most of my mates from work, football and elsewhere who were interested in going Glasto had been similarly unsuccessful with obtaining tickets.

This eventually led to me agreeing to go to the festival with Maria and Suzy, two girls who at best could be described as "friends of friends of friends" (and at worst - and more accurately - could be described as "shrieking, whining fucktards").

I'd met them briefly at a gig earlier in the year, and had been particularly disturbed by their obsession with the band we had gone to see - The Enemy. Maria and Suzy had spent the entire gig clinging onto the front barrier for all their worth, screaming and shrieking all manner of obscene acts that they wished to perform upon the lead singer and drummer respectively (Tom and Liam, I remember being told - a quick Google search doesn't dispute this).

Anyway, fast-forwarding to mid-June, I find myself trapped in a car with said fuckwits, on our way to Somerset. I had imagined that, by this point, the girls' obsession with the Coventrian indie kids may have lessened somewhat - even if it was just to share the love they had to give amongst a few other acts.

Not a chance - they had both turned up in matching "Enemy" hoodies AND t-shirts, and - fuelled on cheap cider - were singing Enemy songs at the tops of their whiny voices. All this despite me having invoked driver's privilege on the stereo, removing any Enemy tracks from the in-car playlist halfway through the third playing of their debut single on the trip down.

Thankfully, when we set up the tents and checked out the playlist, it transpired that The Enemy would be playing on the Friday, therefore I would only have to listen to two days' worth of "I can't wait!" inanity before the gig.

Two days can be a really long time.

Eventually Friday dawned, and the girls were out of the tents at first light, down to the front of the Other stage, ready for their heroes.

I'd like to take this chance to say that I actually don't mind the Enemy's stuff - it's better than a lot of stuff around at the moment - but having it rammed down your throat every waking second does tend to grate after a while.

Anyway, I decided to leave the girls to it and wandered off, returning and catching the end of the set. I couldn't see the girls down at the front, but I was certain that at one point I heard them squeal in unison as one song came to an end.

When I eventually caught up with the girls later, Suzy was walking with a slight limp, but when questioned as to why, she refused to answer.

As the day - and indeed weekend - progressed, the limp got worse, but Suzy still refused to let on as to the cause. Until the last day, that is, when I was confronted by an image that will haunt me to my grave.

Awaking on the Sunday, we had realised that we still had a significant stash of cheap lager and cider with us, and - rather than carting it back to the car - we endeavoured to plough through it, resulting in the majority of the day being a bit blurry.

One moment really stands out in the memory though - towards the end of the evening, Suzy sidled up to me and said that she was a "bit worried" and that she had "something to show me".

We were camped quite close to the Pyramid stage, so we went back to the tents, leaving Maria 'saving our place' in the field.

Having dragged me into the tent, Suzy started wriggling out of her tights. By this point, my alcohol levels probably meant that my blood would only legally allowed to be served in 25ml shots, and all memories of quite how annoying this girl was were slipping out of my mind.

However, I instantly sobered up when she dropped her knickers, and I was confronted with a putrid scab-riddled pus-jungle. I'd like to say that I dealt with the situation in a sophisticated, mature manner, but unfortunately I allowed my natural reactions to get the better of me - the combination of dubious food, cheap alcohol and the sight before me hit home, and I spewed forth the contents of my stomach (namely numerous cans of warm Strongbow, a falafel wrap and an ice-cream).

As it later transpired, Liam from the Enemy had thrown his drumsticks into the crowd from the gig. Suzy had caught one, and then used it to demonstrate exactly what she wanted to do to him.

Apparently, numerous splinters from a bacteria-ridden drumstick can turn septic if left unchecked (and indeed unwashed) in a sweaty, muddy environment for 48 hours.

I'll never eat falafel again.
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:35, 8 replies)
Woo
1st

I have a story but it's a bit shit so i'll tell it later
(, Thu 4 Jun 2009, 13:34, 1 reply)

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