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There will always be a little bit of my soul left in the Green Fields of Pilton...


United Kingdom United Kingdom | 28 June 2010

So once again the dishevelled punters of Glastonbury pack up their tents and begin the long trundle to their cars. No doubt a few wrinkly hippies will continue to live the dream until they get kicked offsite later this week.

2010 has been a vintage year, the stuff of dreams. A mammoth forty-year birthday celebration with the sun beating down on all who came, featuring so many A-List surprise collaborations that we couldn’t contain ourselves any more, bubbling over with so much joy that harnessing the positive vibes in some way would have created a fresh renewable energy source.

Glastonbury is my favourite weekend of the year by a country mile. There’s something about the place that makes me sigh from the romance, spirit and adventure of it all whenever I set foot on terra firma from the coach.

The fields of the farm come alive with energy and the place looks like it’s been sprinkled with magic fairy dust from the pockets of the festival gods. Flags flutter in every corner, sculptures spring from the ground, while even the drinking dens and eateries create secret alternative universes whenever you step through the threshold.  

From the peaceful spiritual vibe of the Green Fields through to the hedonistic carnage of the Dance Village, there is quite literally something for everyone here. And everyone feels that magic, with punters, traders, performers and security going all out to enrich the experiences of everyone around them.

Where else would you see parasol-wielding ballerinas gracefully swanning across the site, shading hot audience members from the sweltering sun, or Geisha Dogs pouring drinks for the thirsty hordes in a Japanese-themed speakeasy?

I have made so many friends at this incredible place over the years just through the sheer randomness of it all - joining Conga parties down by the Pyramid Stage, and helping Shangri-La fire fighters to put out ‘fires’ with their water guns.

This is what it’s all about: an opportunity to meet people who have come along with an open mind and an open heart for a weekend of fun, fun, fun.

And it’s all for a good cause – the many partner charities receive the proceeds from this wonderful weekend. This is quite literally the festival that just keeps on giving.

So it is that I shall resume my daydreaming about Glastonbury for the next 12 months, ticking off the 358 days remaining until 2011 bursts forth in a blast of technicolour light.

Oh Glastonbury, how I do love thee…

By Laura Foster.

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