it turned into 'part of the social calendar' or whatever it is now. I can't remember that much about it though it wasn't particularly for me. The idea of camping in a field with a load of drunk and druggy people is now my idea of hell.
I think The Cure and Sinead O'Conner played and I quite enjoyed World Party. This was in the days where it wasn't a status symbol thing and it didn't cost a ridiculous amount of money.

Maradonna sold us some acid tabs that were just pieces of blotting paper. We bought some speed from a local who was foaming at the mouth but did VAT receipts. Mushrooms were eaten on the Sunday evening with a group outing to see the Cure (one of only a handful of main stage bands seen the whole weekend). Friend went off for a wee, couldn't find us again, listened to a couple of goths going on about a brother's suicide, sending the disoriented chap back to his tent where he locked himself in until Monday lunchtime arrived. A man had a poo in a water stand in the middle of the camp site. I got sunburnt. There was a chopper bicycle. I had the most wonderful rush off more acid & speed with serious fricking visuals in the sky - there was a party, everyone was invited, I was dragged in by beautiful ladies. My manservant shrivelled up due to this and that leading to a 5 second breakdown. Mt Upsidedownhead was spotted. I had a lovely cup of sugary tea outside a tent that featured a digereedoo player and a guy on a synth. A chap by the name of Tarquin regaled the whole of the campsite with wonderful stories about how he was like, working for a charity on his year off which saw him travel the world and Laurent Garnier is like a total fucking god FOR 67 FUCKING HOURS NON FUCKING STOP! I often look back on that time and wonder what Argentinian footballer of some repute Maradonna, probably the greatest footballer the world has ever known, was doing in Somerset selling hooky acid......I've never been back and I've never liked the Cure.

Arrived on the Wednesday, had a great time socialising with those around us safe in the knowledge that we all had another 36 hours before the music started.

Thursday AM: fifty thousand people tried to pitch their tents in the two feet between mine and the guy next door.

Thursday PM: it started raining and at Glastonbury, the rain (and piss) *never* drains away.

Monday AM: left. Music good, everything else bad.

Go to a festival held on soil that drains water away rather than retains it. Glastonbury is shit for this.

in the 1990s. A very hot one which was terrific, and a very very wet and muddy one.

The wet and muddy one wasn't much fun to be honest, you're in the bizarre situation of being in a vast arena of exciting and untold excess and entertainment..but to reach any of it you have to trudge through deep, sticky sludge..every footstep plunges 6 or 7 inches down. You can't sit down, because there is only wet, sloppy goo as far as the eye can see and unless you get some serious drink and drugs or have Mark Ellen levels of spirit and gung-ho it's gonna be a bit of slog after a while..the promise of a set from Super Furry Animals appeals far less than just going home for a bath and a clean loo.

In nice weather, with a nice bunch of people, it's still hardcore and very hard work and you need huge reserves of Oomph to enjoy it, but yeah I'm glad I went, it is extraordinary...and maybe I'll go back some day.

I've been about 10 times but 1995 was incredible. Pulp (probably the best set I have ever seen), Oasis, PJ Harvey, Plastikman, Orbital, Lo Fi All Stars. Great weather. Best ever.

Good weather = good time
Bad weather = bad time

A risky gamble then!

I've also just found out it's not on next year. There goes my chance of going there before I'm 40...

'93, '94, '95. All sunny, and all very silly.
In 1993 a group of us took just a tent, a zippo, £20 and a crate of Hoffmeister. With which we rehydrated, brushed our teeth, and washed*.
We camped at the top of the field, overlooking the festival site. One morning I woke early, crawled from the tent and saw a hot-air balloon being inflated in front of the Pyramid Stage. It was decorated to look like our planet. "Mother Earth is Giving Birth!" I poetically hollered. "SHUT UP" said my friends. Fair enough.

*perhaps not true. I don't remember us washing.

First ever one. Rain swept the site, mud everywhere. One of my friends forgot to pack his tent poles so we cut it up and made ponchos, which allowed us to occasionally sit down. Spent the entire time completely out of my head as sobriety was just too horrible a thing to contemplate in those conditions. I dimly recall seeing Radiohead, if that was the year Robbie Williams played I defiantly ignored him and went to see Coldcut on the grounds that I thought he was shit. By Sunday I had trench foot and was staggering about with my feet in plastic bags in a vain attempt to keep them dry. I was ill for a week afterwards.

I think I've been five times now.

I've been at least twice maybe three times, I do remember climbing the fence to get in for free,so that's before the super fence I also remember a very hot day watching The Polyphonic Spree thinking they were the best band on the planet I was out of my head though
I also remember watching Roger Waters and he had some sort of special surround sound system which was weird, I met a witch and had weird night when I must have watched about 4 bands walking from one stage to the other included John Cale and Super Furry Animals.
I remember being outside a tent where Robert Plant was playing couldn't get in it was packed.
The weather was always kind to me,no mud,still don't know how I found my tent in the dark but I did amazingly never had a problem

I would recommend it even though it's more corporate now, where are you likely to see so many great artists maybe Latitude ?

I'm glad I went,happy memories.

looking forward to watching it on tv tonight with a glass of red

And Evan Dando's ill-fated impromptu spot in the Acoustic tent before Portishead finally came on.