When it comes to picking your way carefully through the tulips (and human turds) of the festival landscape – there are a few things that you may consider taking with you to ensure that your experience is every bit as sun dappled and life changing as the festival website promised when you bought your tickets last January to cheer yourself up as the rain battered relentlessly at your window.
Topping the list should be the humble trowel – it might seem a bit of an odd choice initially, but trust me, after four days surviving on a chickpea based diet, the ability to dig your own bog and have a quiet shit in a corner of the meditation field justifies the inclusion of this little baby right up there in the top spot.
A pointy wizard’s hat
This is essential festival wear – not only will it keep off the sun and rain, but it will ensure that no irritating twonks stand too close behind you when you are watching Dolly Parton – because they won’t be able to see the stage. This has the knock on bonus that you will avoid the discomfort of some beered up loon with a large bag of coloured sand bellowing in your ear during the chorus. And furthermore, a decent wizard’s hat will mean that you won’t get pestered by naked unicycle riding acid-heads because they will clock your mystic headpiece and understand that you are a being of great and mysterious power and give you a wide berth. Also any real wizards will think of you as one of their own and also give you a wide berth (it’s well known that wizards are solitary animals and much prefer their own company) Oh, and you can be spotted by your anxious friends if you go missing and end up naked atop a unicycle displaying hitherto unknown talents.
A large bag of coloured sand
This is brilliant and was taught to me by a man in a pointy wizard’s hat. If you want a bit of peace and quiet – something hard to come by in a crowded festival ground and vital if you want to make use of item number one in the list to do a number two – then simply tip out a little of the sand in a big circle around you. You will find that no other festival goer will want to venture inside the circle to join you in your personal space, for fear of getting caught up in some awful three hour long audience participation puppet show. Plus, you can sit on your bag of sand if you need an ad hoc easy chair to drink in the Sleaford Mods performance – or you can even stand on it to make you a foot higher if some twonk stands in front of you wearing a wizard’s hat.
There is never an occasion when string is not useful, but it is most essential during a festival. Before setting off, you should tie one end to your tent. Then, wearing your wizard’s hat, and with your bag of coloured sand under one arm, you can set off looking for the meditation field to lighten your load, unravelling the twine as you go. It doesn’t matter if you get distracted along the way by the delights of the Hare Krishna tent or get caught up in some Czech woodblock carving workshop… when you want to go back to bed, simply pull really, really hard – you may need to rope in 30 or so other people to help you, and before you know it, your tent will come to you along with some other unexpected objects, people and performers.
When you are in the festival bubble, the norms of established society rapidly break down. Cash soon loses its value – because, y’know, it’s just a promise of actual value from the corrupt banking conglomerates who are out to stiff you at every turn man.
So this is where jelly beans come in – they have undeniable value, and you can point out that if they are planted over in that freshly dug soil patch over in the meditation field, they will almost certainly sprout overnight into a huge beanstalk that will allow the owner to invite their crusty friends to clamber over the security fence right under the noses of the fascist goons. You will most likely end up with a cow which you can use to start a dairy farm when everyone’s gone home.