the abyss means...

OK. It's been over a week since I returned from Glastonbury. Let's see what my overriding memories are...

→ Har Mar Superstar doing splits on the stage while only wearing y-fronts. (Er. It wasn't pretty, but it was great.)
→ The sweltering heat as it refused to storm properly. (Not a weather condition I am designed for.)
→ Sitting up at the Stone Circle and watching people (as they make mobile phone calls, hit themselves with poi, vomit etc.).
→ Fires (Fires, fires everywhere!).
→ Having my first ever shower at Glastonbury! (Greenpeace showers good.)
→ Running about questioning people on their views on the Lock-ups until I could no longer talk. ("Hi! Questionnaire! Fill! Have pen!".)
→ Fighting my way out (from near the front) of the Radiohead crowd to get to a shift on time and almost listening to a bit of Lamb. (It took three Radiohead songs to get out!)
→ The immediate stress which seemed to come from responsibility. (I only took over for one hour and the stress was not for me.)
→ Watching the ceiling of the cafe flap (well, it was a marquee) as we waited half-an-hour for our food. (Hungry, sleepy, hungry, sleepy.)
→ The happy people from Yorkshire CND, especially the singing of the song about Milosh. (Milosh, Milosh, Milosh)
→ The dragon and the C5. (It is always good to know where the fun stuff is kept!)
→ The waterbed shower. (A cunning design. Solar-heated.)
→ The bouncing portaloos. (Erm. Yes.)
→ Having to work through Death in Vegas.
→ The night-mare poem and the floating woman. (Sights to be seen.)
→ The ambulances. (Reality every time...)
→ The people with glowing eyes. (Whom I hope were street performers.)
→ The man, looking suspiciously like the main singer of Men Without Hats, who decided that sleeping in the property lock-up doorway would be a good idea... (He seemed very friendly.)
→ Seeing the local stewards who I have spoken to almost every year since 1995. (I missed them last year and was beginning to worry!)
→ Working with Wob. (Very odd to work with someone you have watched perform at Glastonbury.)
→ My cider turning in the sun. (Y'know that rancid egg smell?)
→ Doing batik. (I was congratulated for not using hippy symbolism. No peace symbols, no rainbows, nothing.)
→ Kneeling in chewing-gum. (Noooooo!)
→ Standing and watching Moloko. (The sun set and all was good.)
→ Discovering my camera had been on the wrong setting for most of the weekend. (Duh. First time I take a camera and I get it wrong!)

Hmm. I'm sure I've forgotten something. Now what was it? I think I've had worse years, but then I have also had more memorable ones... Maybe I'll write about them at some point...

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UPDATE: I wonder if the man who owned the Sinclair C5 was also this man?

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