And just as our nostrils were beginning to adjust to the stench of the portaloos and our bodies used to the 11am drinking start (happy hour was every hour), it was time for us to pack up our 6 man tent that we spent an estimated 5 hours in and give a big old sigh and unwelcome hello back to reality.
The drive home needless to say wasn't as cheerful as the pumped up,
This was my third Glastonbury and as cheesy as it sounds, for me, it gets better by the year. Regardless of my complete lack of bearings (it took a good two days to realise I could see the Pyramid stage from my tent and a further day to be able to manoeuvre myself to the toilets without getting lost) it's a bloody good festival to be at.
Even the heat was bearable as we invested in a tiger umbrella for the shade - it was usually in the possession of the person feeling the most fragile. We also gained a neat little gadget to spray ourselves when the heat was too much. Swanky little thing had two types of spray - one I might add, ideal for spraying crotches to give the effect of one's bladder loosing control. Priceless.
Amidst the drinking, smoking, singing and generally acting like idiots, I was quite impressed by the level of fashion I laid eyes on. Take away the 50,000 in England shirts, 10,000 topless (men), 10,000 'mums and dads' attire and you were left with a good level of quality dressed people. Bear in mind the heat became priority for most of us, my friends and I still managed to pull off a rather slick festival look.
Not as swanky as this lot...
But we definitely gave them a run for their money.