Glastonbury 1999
- My First Glasto
Driving
west on the M4 from Bracknell, I was feeling anxious. My friend Brian (actually
the husband of my now ex-wife's friend from university) had suggested that I
meet him, his brother Neil and their friend Mark at "the first services on
the M5 south of the M4". I was playing "Shackles" by Mary Mary
on the car stereo, and preparing myself for whatever may lay ahead. Why this
should be necessary when, after all, I was just going camping for the weekend
with some friends, and listening to some live bands, perhaps needs some
explanation :
In the long summer
holidays between school and university I had gone with my parents and siblings
to a Subud
While I was there
in the Easter break in 1974, I met someone who called himself
I wasn’t actually
frightened of Stan, but I was terrified by the fact that I couldn’t understand
what was happening or how it worked. I stayed up all night – it was one of only
three times in my life when sleep was not an option. I found a Sufi book of
Mulla Nasrudin tales – funny stories designed to enlighten. At dawn I went for
walk and became one with the land and sky. As the sun rose, there was a
crescent moon also rising, which together with Venus formed a sort of pattern,
and I knew that it was all going to be all right.
It took me about
five years to regain some sort of normality. I decided that I didn’t want the
sort of life that Stan had made for himself. Eventually I forgot how to read
people’s minds (you sort of learn automatically by example), and managed to at
least give the appearance of being normal. What I learned from Stan is
sometimes useful…
It was also at
Beshara that I met Paul, a real live hippy, who told me in ecstatic terms about
the Glastonbury festival. I didn't feel that I was ready for the experience
yet...
So, in short, a
lot of the best, worst and most challenging experiences in my life came
together in my first Glastonbury adventure. I thought it was likely that I
would meet, if not Stan himself, others like him. It was time to confront some
unresolved issues - or at least try to. ( As it happened I postponed most of
this until G2000...
)
After a full
(vegetarian) English breakfast at the services, and being introduced to Neil
and Mark, we set off in convoy to the festival. Brian, Neil and Mark are
The first
impression of Glastonbury is the size. Eight miles around the perimeter fence,
a population the size of Bath. But then, focusing on the details, I noticed how
relaxed everyone seemed to be - easy eye contact, ready smiles and the feeling
that you could chat to anyone about anything. We were all on holiday, getting
ready for a great weekend. I don't know how to describe it all. Perhaps its
just one of those things that you just have to experience for yourself. But
here goes :
Being yourself.
There were two men carrying placards about a "naked protest" - naked,
of course. Nobody batted an eyelid. I saw one of them from a distance, once.
Many girls were wearing fairy wings, dressed up to look like Art Deco fairies.
The male fashion seemed to be "eco warrior" - fatigues, crew cut,
which made my fluorescent green T-shirt, khaki shorts and sandals seem somewhat
dated - but nobody cared.
Healing. In the
green fields I saw a lady walking with a friend or counsellor, where her left
breast had been removed (presumably as a result of a mastectomy), the lines of
the stitches had been highlighted with a marker pen. What I saw was immense
courage – a determination to live a full life in spite of the setbacks. I wish
her well.
Like any group of
people on holiday, there is no money pressure.
Music.
Hugs.
Skunk Anansie were
headlining – I had heard of them, but didn’t know their music. I stood towards
the top of the Pyramid Stage field along with maybe 100,000 other people as the
lead singer, who calls herself Skin, gave an amazing performance – immense
energy. I felt that I was “in love” with everyone there. The full moon was
rising to the left, the large red sun setting to the right. Powerful stuff!
Having lived
without the car for three very intense days, when I returned to the car park I
saw my car, and all of the others there, in a very different way. I noticed
that they are small metal boxes. Also, that they are very dangerous sometimes,
as they can easily fold inwards and crush the people inside. Useful, though.
The car seemed to
move by itself, or at least not controlled by me – almost as if it was being
picked up and thrown off the site. And I don’t do drugs – honest! As the car
left the car park field Radio Avalon was playing “Wooden Ships” by Crosby,
Stills, Nash and Young : “we are leaving, we are leaving…” . Awesome.
I drove back with
tears streaming down my face. After and hour or so, I pulled over, as I
couldn’t see very well, and I thought maybe I wasn’t concentrating on the road
enough. I had a last cry for a few minutes, then carried on. Why? How on earth
can I explain? I had seen a different way of life. From the perspective of that
other way of life, I saw the life I had known in a new way. I saw the loss of
true humanity in the world I had come from.
I was so angry.
Why? Because we had all been cheated out of our true birthright. That’s me, and
everyone I knew, running around chasing emptiness. I had seen something better,
and the old world was just not right.
This anger at the
state of the world lasted for several years. It only really went when I
realised that there must be some point to why the world is the way it is… (Even
if I don’t know what it is!)
The Twelve Tribes
messianic sect who run the Common Ground Café are lovely people. It was very
tempting to run off and join them. But nah, I’ve got other things to do first…
The Common Ground
Café in 1999. The outside staircase is no longer there (as of 2007), no doubt
due to health and safety concerns… Great food, lovely people!
I think I was
beginning to get the message that human life is infinite…