So, after a quick change of clothes following the Inspiral Carpets, I joined some friends, well, friends of himself in reality, to catch a couple more acts during the afternoon. Going along with the flow of things, I went along to Electric Six, who were preceeding Idlewild. I was prepared to give them a go, despite despising “Danger High Voltage” and “GayBar”. Unfortunately, they were as bad as I’d feared, although there was a moment to remember, as they played Queen’s “Radio Ga Ga”, to the crowd’s delight - and much clapping and holding arms in the air. Fortunately, Idlewild were as good as I’d hoped, and as such not all was lost.

When I go to see a band, I want to feel like dancing, jumping, generally making a fool of myself, without caring. Idlewild did this for me. They had me singing along to lyrics I barely knew - a success in itself - and I was bouncing up and down with the best of them. For this reason alone, they get the second of my top five awards of the weekend.

By this time, the sun had well and truly come out. This not only induced more cider (what is it about Festivals and cider that works so well? I never touch the stuff, normally, but in a paper cup in a field, it takes on a new life. Perhaps it was the sunshine. Perhaps it was because we were in Somerset. Perhaps it was just a long alcoholic drink. I don’t know, but I have a fear I’ve developed a taste. Then again, with vodka and slimline back on offer, perhaps not.

Where was I before that tangent? Oh, yes, on my way to see Lemon Jelly on the New Bands Stage. As many of you will know, Mike, over at Troubled Diva, got me onto this band about six months ago, just before the release of “Nice Weather for Ducks”, which took the country by storm. The set started late - and was a little bit flat, with lots of crowds moving between venues, tents and bars. However, it really built - via some rather nifty cigarette lighter in the air crowd participation - to a rousing crescendo of a finish. Excellent stuff - and following Idlewild, a chance to revel in a seriously different kind of music, which was equally able to make me sway, bounce and generally make a fool of myself. There was also some nice linking from the stage - and the light show was great for the New Bands stage, which sometimes - as I wandered past - seemed a little bare. Anyway, as you’ve probably guessed, Lemon Jelly get my third Top 5 place of the Festival.

Because I stayed so late watching Lemon Jelly, I had to speed march back to the Other Stage in order to meet up with another friend (gosh, I sound SO popular, don’t I?) to watch Primal Scream, and generally catch up. Himself also joined, after doing a spot on Radio Avalon. We had a general catch up on life, listened to the band and ended up wandering back to my tent for a couple of voddies before bed-time.

While I think of it - and I know himself will be doing some work on this, so I don’t want to steal his thunder too much - I was surprised that Radio Avalon, the “official” Glastonbury station, which not only plays music during the Festival, but also gives travel reports and updates from around the site, didn’t have sponsorship this year. With all the commerical/corporate sponsorship at the Festival, this really did make me think. Anyway, get in touch with John if you want to change this for next year. And, at a tangent again, I’m currently listening to Avalon over the internet. Great reggae, which gets so little play normally. Anyway, back to Glastonbury and Saturday.

Morning dawned and after my ritual trek to the flushing toilets, water trough looking thing with taps and the All Day Breakfast Bar for a mushroom roll and coffee, I headed down the hill for some more entertainment. On the way, I queued for nearly an hour to get money at the cashpoint. This period saw the start of sunburn - as the midday rays started to play havoc with my nose! I had a little bit of a wander - with some time on my hands before I was due to meet my CND Chum for lunch - looking at the stalls, chatting to people along the way. So friendly!

After lunch, we went off as my chum wanted to get a temporary tattoo. Of course, not to be outdone, I had a small one on my ankle. I’m actually beginning to think it looks rather good - but should not be tempted to make things more permanet. I’ll regret it at 70, as I’ve pointed out to Adrian on many occasions!

Leaving my chum, I went off to meet a Small Gene Puddle mate and his landlord who were camped up near the Stone Circle. We had a very hot and sunny afternoon, watching The Thrills on the Other Stage (who were, well, not good enough to make me want to get up off the grass and my cider to have a bop), taking a stroll up to the Circus Tent, before heading back, via the One World stage (and Nitin Sawhney, who passed muster on the swaying front - but didn’t quite get me to full idiot stage) to watch Supergrass back on the Pyramid Stage. I really enjoyed their set - but mostly from a sitting position. So, either they didn’t move me into a stage of wanting to get up and boogie - or the events of the afternoon, and rather too much “Glastonbury atmosphere” was starting to have an effect. It also was the period when the final layer of skin on my increasingly red nose gave up and started to cook. I really should have used more sunblock.
Anyway, whether you like Supergrass or not, do have a look at the website - and the Douglas Adams inspired opening. Made me laugh, anyway.

After Supergrass, I split up from my Small Gene Puddle mate, as I’d arranged to meet himself to watch Radiohead. They played a good set, but as they didn’t manage to do “Creep” (and, yes, I know they hate the record, but I don’t), I went away a little underwhelmed. From there, via the bar, up to the Stone Circle to sit around and wait for the sun to rise. I was having a very hippy day - and enjoyed it thoroughly!

Sunday started a little more misty - but turned into a scorcher as well. Another mushroom roll followed my morning ritual at the flushing toilets. Went off and got an Observer, a pint of cider (gosh - it was quite an alcoholic weekend, wasn’t it? I’m just beginning to really realise) and sat in the sun, half listening to The Waterboys, reading. How else do you spend a Sunday?

After that, I was in a quandry. I didn’t know whether to go and see Cerys Matthews , my heroine, play in the Acoustic Tent or not. It was a long walk and by this time it was baking hot. So, I decided to stop and have some lunch, whilst I mulled it over. Luckily, I got chatting, over the Observer sports pull out, to a Tottenham fan, who was making the long walk. We ended up having a good afternoon - talking about all sorts - including the Festival itself. We were both Glastonbury Virgins - and had picked up many of the same good and bad points. Of course, neither of us had made it to the on-site Casino - but then again, I didn’t have my ball gown.

So, to Cerys we went. And, I’m so glad. She blew the roof off the tent with her new music. Her voice is at its best - and she was animated on stage (although I only could see the top of her head, every now and again). Towards the beginning of the set, she played a song called “Chardonnay”, which was one of the best I’ve heard in years. I will be buying the new album forthwith. As I swayed along to basically all of the set, naturally Cerys gets my fourth place in the Top 5.

On the way back, my new friend and I discovered FatBoy Slim on the Radio 1 stage. Great music - as always - from the man formally known as Norman Cook.

For Part 3 - and the conclusion of My Glastonbury - The Stench - come back tomorrow. I’m just too tired - and want to do the Manics justice!

OK, this post may take some time - or alternatively may run over several days as I remember things. I’m tired, sunburnt (BBC website - you got it - mostly - wrong!) and slightly over-emotional. Despite this, I’ll give it a go. Ahem, clears throat - due to over-excessive smoking of last four days “some memories of Glastonbury 2003” -

As you will know from earlier posts, Glastonbury was a bit of a last minute decision, leading to much frenetic packing and panicing. Not helping this was the fact that I had to pop into work on my way to the train to sort a couple of things out. None of the staff had ever seen me in jeans and t-shirt before, so it was all a bit of a shock - but not as much as when I announced I was leaving at 10.30! At least they didn’t get to see me messing up my hair on the way to the station. I felt, being that I was going to a Festival, that corporate hair was not really the order of the day.

The train from Cardiff was packed - with people obviously going to Glastonbury, sitting alongside older “day-trippers” who looked completely bemused. After a quick change at Bristol, I really got onto what could only be described as the Glastonbury express. Not in the same way, as I was told later, that BR (or whichever company it is now, I lose track - ha, track, get it? Never mind!), where they appeared to take a leaf out of Hogwarts books and held people in a holding pen, checking their rail AND Glastonbury tickets before telling them which platform to move on to. On my train, it was just very, very visible that 99.9% of the people were going to get off at Castle Cary to make their way on to Glastonbury.

And, this was the first real experience of the weekend. People actually spoke to complete strangers on the train! I know, it was surreal. I ended up chatting to a guy from Bath at one point, who had packed a sleeping bag, one change of clothes and alcohol. Nothing else. His tent was in transfer in the back of someones car. Later, it occured to him that putting the alcohol in the car and carrying his tent may have been a better idea, but I digress.

I also had my first contact with the “Port Talbot Massive” a group of 40-something men, who turned the entire journey into a comedy act. Two guys I later queued with, Dafydd and Neil (of which, more later) kept the banter up as well. Of the Massive, the “big man” (it was an apt description - we had no name), had a shopping trolley, containing 64 cans of Strongbow (at least at the beginning of the journey), which he hoped would last until Saturday afternoon! The fact they only had three tickets between four of them also caused some debate - but I have little doubt they all got in, despite the security. They got as far as the main gate, to my knowledge, having already got through about four security checks with their slightly bumbling, slightly drunk, act.

By the time we reached the station, the queues had formed for the transfer bus, and I spent another hour slowly moving step by step towards the vehicles, the bag on my shoulder starting to dig. I stayed with Dafydd, Neil and Steve throughout this part of the journey and in the queue for the gate (which took about two hours). They kept me in stitches - as did assorted other we met along the way. I did promise Dafydd to give a plug to his band, Busta Decks, who are playing at The Ship and Pilot in Cardiff Bay next weekend. They are a fusion of hip-hop and reggae, from what I could gather, and play only their own work. If you fancy it, the link has a phone number, so that you can check times and dates, etc. All I hope is Dafydd makes it back! We parted company inside the fence - near the Dance Tent - and it was the last I saw of him and Neil.

I met My Dear Friend, who was in his fourteenth year of attending Glastonbury on a semi-regular basis, and another CND-chum at The Crown (Workers Beer Company bar) on the One World Field. After a refreshing pint of cider to quench the thirst, himself lead me to my home for the next four nights. It was in the Home Groud, which has the advantage of the only flushing (public) toilets on the site, but which is situated right next to the remaining cows and the sewage treatment works. Luckily, I suffer with a lack of smell most of the time, so this didn’t bother me too much. Being a person who likes hotels with en-suite and room service, at that, I had not the first clue of how to erect a tent. Luckily, himself had put up four that day already, so was well in practice for mine. I was told that it was of “impressive size” for a two-man (ah, the Manc Scum, he always does things in such great style) and I had plenty of room, which was great.

After meeting a group of people, who himself knows through his geek-existence, we sauntered off down to “The Cider Bus”, which was luckily right next to the Lower Depths (another Workers Beer Company bar) so that I could indulge in my first vodka of the Festival. We had a great night - as there was no music, and just much conversation - chatting and meeting new people. One group, from Bristol, were celebrating their mate Trolley’s 30th birthday. They were great fun and I bumped into them several more times over the weekend, which always resulted in lots of laughs.

The night seemed to fly by and before I knew it, I was making my way back “home” at about 3 in the morning. It’s amazing how quickly time can go when you are having a good time - and how slowly when you are stuck in work!

Friday dawned with the hint of rain in the air. After himself radiating sun-burn to anyone within 20 metres the day before, I had a nasty feeling that the BBC may have got it right. This was re-affirmed when it started throwing it down half-way through the Inspiral Carpets set. Despite the rain, the crowd were bouncing like idiots (yes, OK, me included), singing out the lyrics to Saturn 5 and the rest. It was a brilliant set, which is the first of my top 5 of the Festival. I know I’m biased, being a child of the era, but they had such energy, that you couldn’t fail but be impressed. “Cool as Fuck” as the saying goes!..

OK - now have to do some shopping. I warned this may take some time! You’ll have to bear with me. More Soon(ish).

So, I’m going! After my friend in London told me he didn’t have access to any spare tickets after all, I decided to do a quick trawl of the Glastonbury Festivel Official website. The message boards have a place where you can buy/sell tickets. Blow me, within half an hour, I’d done a deal with a wonderful woman in Bristol.

After work, the Other Half and I jumped into the car, crossed the bridge and sped into Clifton, with screeching brakes and mutterings of “this better not be a wind-up”! However, the seller duly appeared in the pub to hand over the ticket. I handed over the cash - and everyone went home happy.

Of course, as this happened around 2.30 this afternoon, I have spent the rest of the day in a complete spin. On top of all the excitement, it was also my last day with my boss - who is off on holiday. The final staff meeting I had with him was a little emotional - but I’m stil off on the 4th of July, my very own Independence Day.

So, with packing now finished, tent loaned from the Manc Scum and only a sleeping bag to purchase in the morning, I’m off around lunch-time to pitch tent. I have the essentials - toilet roll, knickers, 100 cigarettes and two bottles of vodka. I think I should survive.

Of course, looking at the forecast, I’m taking the Welsh weather with me. Ah well, the waterproofs and bin liners are packed.

The full review of the Festival on Monday (or, perhaps more likely, Tuesday). And, if your there, I’ll be the drunk Welsh woman performing lewd acts!

The whiff of Glastonbury is in the air. No ticket - but I live in hope that a greater power might be able to save me. You know who you are - and I was serious about the lewd acts!!!!

I came upstairs to my little office tonight to be greeted with crap all over the floor. Not, you understand that the cats had had any form of little accident. And the Other Half, well he’s fairly well toilet trained (on the whole - and we don’t mention those incidents after 12 pints of lager on a Saturday night - I’M JOKING!). It’s just that in the cleaning frenzy over the rest of the house during the weekend, quite a lot of stuff got put (OK, OK, dumped) in the office.

What with the aborted business, my writing stuff, the Other Half’s OU documents and books, my OU documents and books it ends up being lots and lots of paper, which all needs to be neatly filed, less the tax man wants to inspect me at some stage. So, I made a start, which in reality involved filling the waste paper bin, putting the waste paper bin in a drawer that needs to be dumped and then balancing empty boxes and pieces of cardboard on top. Tracey Emin would call it art, I’m sure.

Of course, this little pile all has to find it’s way down two flights of stairs at some point. Ah, but that’s a problem for another day (and if I’m really lucky, the Other Half may take pity!).

Jon Tickle got evicted on Friday night. Big Brother just doesn’t have the same appeal anymore. Ah well, the spell is broken and I’ve hardly watched since.

Who wants to see a group of people with no opinions be nice to each other? We want to see some passion - either in arguments or sexual chemistry, whichever would do. Instead we get them talking about their dogs! Bring on the final eviction and lets get it over with for another year.

So, on Friday I had the day off! In spite of being in panic mode, I have a certain number of days leave that unless I take them I am going to lose. You do the math!

I could have spent the last three days in unproductive heaven - writing to my blog, cruising the internet and talking on IM. Instead, I have…

a) watched the Matrix Reloaded, which, for the record, I really enjoyed. I thought the story line, which a lot of people have said wasn’t that good, was excellent, and the fight scenes were, well, fab. Add to that Keaneu in the buff (even with the back implants) and it was a winner!

b) Ikea shopping on Friday, with the Other Half, to buy some shelves - along with some other stuff that added up to well over £100. To justify the bill (which I really don’t have to, but my non-Catholic guilt makes me do), we managed to get the lights for the new bathroom we are installing. They are really unusually - and will be fixed in a wavy shape on the ceiling to match our new radiator (which is costing £720, which my cousin thinks is scandalous, but I love it, so there!).

c) Went to visit a friend outside of the gene puddle, who is moving, with husband and children to Essex next month. They are going for his job, and she has fears that her daughters will end up as Essex girls! This is done in good humour (before the nasty comments start). Anyway, good coffee, out in the sun - and as always excellent conversation. Oh, and the gift… Well, least said!

d) Had a major tidy up of the personal filing stuff. Threw out half a bin bag of bills relating to the old house and generally checked I could find all the important stuff - wills, passports, car insurance, MOT’s (the Other Half’s was out of date, tut tut), etc.

e) Picked the Other Half up from a “boys only” poker night on Saturday. Was called at 1am - got back at 2.30am, which would all have been fine, if I could only have had a drink. But, there we go!

f) Did some B&Q shopping for the Other Halfs grandfather (I’m sure this, I’m in my 80’s thing is just a ruse so that he can get out of stuff like that). Then onto M&S for coffee and some idle food shopping.

g) And, the really important news of the weekend, I got a new mobile phone. And, one of these video phones at that. Apparently, 3 have just put up a mast in the gene puddle area, so the deals were great - and I got the last phone in the shop (so the sales guy said - although who knows, it was a sales guy). The Other Half is so jealous - it’s got a flip lid, like early Star Trek communicators. Am so proud!

And, there, my dear friends, is the last three days. Not too much done, as you can see!

My Dear Friend has been nominated for CND Council - after an absence of far too many years. He reported this on his blog yesterday (17.06.03.) - and is looking for votes as to whether he should do it or not.

If you have the slightest interest in encouraging an individual who looks not for personal glory, but instead seeks the best for an organisation, which of late has been dominated by people who, despite possibly good intentions, have run it into the ground, please leave a comment to encourage him to stand. I’ve already done so.

Is this vote rigging?

I have a maximum of twelve days left in my current job. Things are beginning to hit the panic level. I have started to make lists, in order to tackle the lists of jobs I have already made. It’s like the exam revision timetables I used to make - you know the ones, all colour co-ordinated, which took so much time to design that they left no time for the actual revision.

Added to this, one of my most accommodating colleagues is getting married on Saturday, which is great for her, but means that I have to cover her work for the last couple of weeks of my career within the Unit. Now, although I’m thrilled that she’s getting hitched, before embarking on a trip of a life-time to the Western Seaboard of the USA, it’s bloody well inconvenient. If she wasn’t so damned nice, I would have plucked her eyes out by now.

At least the essay is basically finished (only referencing to go)! One less thing to worry about. Now, where is that list of Standard Operating Procedures that HAVE to be updated?

I know its probably on websites throughout the world by now, but this BBC News report about 18 tonnes of peas being spilled onto the A1, forcing the roads’ closure, made me smile.