Or perhaps not.
In my case, the realisation that heading to Glasto 2014 was as inevitable as drinking cider on a hot, summer's day came at the exact time Dolly Parton announced that she was going to be playing. There's nothing quite like an impeccable rendition of Jolene to break up the dnb and breakbeats.
I'll try and keep it simple...
On Tuesday at 12pm, Biggy Smalls and I - and 7 other friends in our merry band of Avalon bar workers (that's the events company that handles Shelter's presence at the festival via a number of volunteer staffed 'destination bars' situated across the site) - boarded the bus at King's Cross.
4 or so hours later, having befriended MJ (journalist writing for China Daily) and Lynds (veteran Glastonbury volunteer staying whose partner had a stall there), we arrived at the campsite, which was just outside the actual site by pedestrian gate C.
Volunteering with Shelter means committing to three 8 hour shifts over the course of the festival in whatever bar you are assigned to at whatever times suit management. So getting good shifts and the right bar are paramount to enjoyment.
Due to my dodgy calf muscle however, and the request of our friend in our group who'd done it all before last year, we were given Cockmill Bar by the Acoustic Tent, which could not - trust me - have been more ideal. Super close to our campsite and only 5 minutes walk to Pyramid Stage, where Dolly Parton would be playing on Sunday afternoon at 4.20pm, this was the real ale bar, so all our punters were aged and mellow - just like the beer in our barrels.
A moment of despair did come though, when I received confirmation of my shifts: Wednesday 4.30pm start, Friday 10.45am start, Sunday 4.30pm start.
Fuuuuuuuuuuuuuck - I was going to miss Dolly. And by a hair's breadth too.
But all that anxiety melted away when we met our bar manager, Aiden. A Glastonbury lover so committed he married his wife there, with a fondness for ale, hilarious banter and the most relaxed attitude to work known to man, we turned up to see him at 10am on Wednesday for what was generously termed 'a briefing'. It went a little like this (said in a hoarse Norther Irish accent):
"So, this is where you'll be servin' drinks," (pointing behind him to an empty serving stand) "or it will be when we have a bar..." *boyish grin*
"Over there is where th' ales'll be. I'm not sure what we'll have on... we haven't got'em yet. We're not goin' to have tills... we'll be putting money in buckets. But we don't have any buckets yet, so there'll be cardboard boxes instead..."
And so on...
No worries and fun was to be the order of things. And once we'd begun our shift that afternoon in the festival's most chilled bar on a day when the public were for the most part as yet still to arrive, I knew I'd get to see Dolly.
After all, she was only Two Doors Down.
To be continued...