Reading Festival and the simple joys of mud…

Mud at the Reading Festival

Image by DavidMartynHunt via Flickr

As I write this I seem to suffering from the common Reading cold. I was not acquainted until now which quite frankly is a blessing. Before I continue I must admit it was my first festival and I was not prepared for the joys and, well, pains of a good old fashioned british music festival. For anyone who has ever been to a festival then all I will say is, where did all that mud come from? I honestly think nature itself could not account for the sheer amount of mud that decided to make an appearance on that late August weekend. As I trudged along laden like a medieval donkey I was speechless to the conditions I would be calling home for the next four days. I was, well to put it plainly horrified at the brown slush that spread for miles and lapped at the sides of my hopefully waterproof shoes. My feeling of trepidation was not, to my surprise, shared by the majority who seemed to come alive at the sight of this country necessity.

Along with the mud I had never seen so many tents and I was sure that finding an average three man green tent in the dark near impossible. Let’s just say I wasn’t wrong.

Being my first festival I was unsure what to expect and immediately wanted to know why I paid near enough £200 for a weekend that was shaping up to be a disastrously filthy and tepid affair. Thursday for me meant sitting around a horrendously smoky little fire. Although I dearly wanted to be at home watching tv with a nice cup of tea, I gritted my teeth and soaked up the fumes hoping this wasn’t the joy of festivals. With a warm beer in one hand and a half cooked sausage in the other I seriously considered that I simply wasn’t the ‘festival type’.

However as the weekend continued and the festival seemed to come to life with the introduction of music, which is really no surprise. I suddenly realised that music was always meant to be played live. The atmosphere was electric for even relatively unknown bands. The sludgy mud seemed like a distant memory now.

It struck me that I may actually be the ‘festival type’ and then I remembered the toilets and decided maybe it just wasn’t meant to be, but it was nice while it lasted.

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6 thoughts on “Reading Festival and the simple joys of mud…

  1. momfog says:

    I’ve never been to a festival. If I ever have the pleasure, I’ll be sure to wear waterproof shoes.

  2. joejames93 says:

    No joke they are the first on my list! Festivals are awesome though.

  3. rockmelody says:

    Festivals are nice. I like their special atmosphere which is so different from common indoor gigs 🙂

  4. joejames93 says:

    Yeah there really is a different atmosphere which adds to the whole experience- I think music is best at festivals personally.

  5. Val says:

    Mmmm… I’ve never made it to a fully-fledged festival but have had the pleasure (?!) of skidding in mud at various outdoor gigs in the past (Hyde Park springs to mind, decades ago – sorry, I’m an ‘Oldie’! I wish I’d been able to go to the Isle of Wight festival and if I’d been in a different country and a bit older than I was, I’d have gone to Woodstock!

    I dunno why it always rains at festivals. Maybe something about thousands of people brings out the clouds?

    I’ve subscribed to your blog, by the way.

  6. joejames93 says:

    I know, living in Britain doesn’t help for sure but rain seems to always join us at summertime (festival-time). I wrote a random post on british weather because it is that ridiculous!
    Thank you, means a lot and you’ve got a great blog going by the way.

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