You’re approaching Glastonbury tickets all wrong

Get Expert Analysis With View From Westminster Email

Subscribe To Our Free Westminster View Email

If you're checking out this post without registering for Glastonbury tickets this weekend, don't bother. No amount of advice or suggestions will be useful now. Registration is a must before you can make a purchase, and it closed weeks ago.

Cheer up, attending this festival was never meant to be effortless, just like in its early days. As soon as you step into Glastonbury, you embark on a challenging journey both physically and mentally. But this is exactly what makes it worth the money you pay, not just the music.

Where else can you carry your own shelter, find no restroom, and spend a lot of money on food and alcohol, as you walk through muddy terrain? And also, on Sunday morning, you wake up feeling thirsty, your tent is soaked, and there's a drunken guy relieving himself next to you. All of this for a total cost of £350?

Glastonbury is definitely not a sanitized event, despite people complaining about how it's become too bourgeois (even though the festival's founders were middle class). The nightmare starts from the moment you try to get your hands on a ticket. The initial batch of these coveted tickets sold out in a mere 25 minutes on Thursday.

At 9am on Sunday morning, the biggest portion will vanish quickly. Friends will compete feverishly, typing away on their keyboards and shouting in annoyance as they get blocked out. It's weird how one friend can win their access while the others can't. Winners who brag about their success with remorselessness will flood social media. (For your information, showing off like this will make you a social outcast. The rest of us will continue to search for access through whatever means we can.)

I've been to Glastonbury numerous times, but I can't remember exactly how many. During my first visit, which was when I was 18 years old, I attempted to climb over a fence. I ended up getting stuck at the top of the fence, which was about 20 feet high, while Alsatian guard dogs were barking on one side and there was a very steep drop on the other side. It felt like a scene out of a prison escape movie. After my friend got frustrated with me, he finally helped me down, and I was lucky that I didn't break my leg. I strongly advise against attempting to climb the same fence nowadays as it seems much more intimidating.

After that, there were several days without any rest, tent, water, or companions. This was the time when mobile devices were made of bricks (yes, before the i-Phone era began) and there were no mobile towers in Glastonbury. We got separated from our group in just a few hours and we never saw them again. They had all of our supplies, including food, tents, and clothes... I disliked almost everything about the situation. Nonetheless, the following year, I was eager to go back.

The true spirit of Glastonbury involves enduring a great deal of hardship for several days, with the music being only a minor aspect. It's comparable to the Tough Mudder event for individuals who only wear Lycra if it's brightly colored and adorned with sparkly decorations.

Our daily routine is disgustingly effortless: easily calling for an Uber or booking a Wizz Air flight; getting anything delivered to our homes - no need to wait in long lines at the supermarket or brave a miserable commute on the Central Line after 5 pm. We can even work from the comfort of our own homes. However, this goes against our nature. As humans, we actually do better when faced with challenges.

What other reason do we have to invest our weekends in difficult sports? It's like the environment is filled with middle-aged males riding bikes that cost more than vehicles. Ben Nevis is covered in protective jackets. Glastonbury is all about the fun, but equally about the struggle.

I have faced the challenges of attending a festival, battling the rain and chill while recovering from a hangover. I trudged through mud up to my waist, leaving my feet completely white. I endured sleeping in a tent that was meant for six people, but instead housed 20. During one festival, I parted ways with my boyfriend due to our incompatible personalities which became increasingly apparent in the different areas of Glastonbury. I left him standing in front of a Radiohead concert in the pouring rain back in 1997.

You're trekking for miles, lugging around hefty bags and dragging damp tents behind you, all while wondering why some parents are crazy enough to bring along their young children! Every time you enter the portacabins, you're greeted with a pungent odor (and it's no wonder your butt closes shop in protest after a quick peek inside those cabins). Going to Somerset is always a memorable, yet dreadful experience.

Additionally, each year that I attended still vividly stands out in my memory. I distinctly remember being on stage with The Orb during their performance of "Little Fluffy Clouds" on a sunny day. I also recall observing Nile Rodgers's rendition of "Let's Dance" backstage. Lastly, I stood under the renowned oak tree and watched The White Stripes deliver an unforgettable show, complete with Meg White's iconic drum solo that has since become part of musical history.

The one thing I regret the most in my life is agreeing to my girlfriend's demand to leave before David Bowie's iconic performance at Glastonbury on a Sunday night in 2000. Even today, I still haven't been able to forgive her for it.

The recommendation I have for Emily Eavis is to maintain every aspect of Glasto without any alterations, particularly without adding any facilities that cater to the millennial generation. However, it might be worthwhile to contemplate having two occurrences of Glastonbury in a year...?