I may need to use this as my new laptop wallpaper.
From the Pyramid stage on Friday. There seem to be a lot of sceptics on social media, claiming that the crowd was there to hear music, but they weren’t there to hear many, many people saying they wanted to be there to see Jeremy Corbyn.
And the traditional end to the evening at the John Peel stage … these little town blues ….
My second in command wanted to see Emile Sande. I didn’t, so I was allowed to shop for a blanket for my beloved.
I did need beer to help me shop and, after a successful purchase, I failed to locate the designated ice cream van at the Other stage. I’m currently at West Holts. It looks good in the evening.
But I shouldn’t be here. I have new instructions to arrive swiftly at the bar by the Pyramid stage.
Apparently, I want to see Ed Sheeran.
I’m sitting in the garden this fine Sunday morning. The garden outside the old Glastonbury showers, that is; waiting for my second in command.
The queue was very short this morning, a last day of festival thing I guess.
Our itinerary for the day is planned, although there’re the usual feelings associated with the end of something good.
Speaking of something good, the Foo Fighters were pretty astounding last night.