What a glorious day Saturday was! We had the entire day to play and we started as we meant to go on, in Block 9.
Here we bumped into Scottish Tom - a new friend from the Cockmill gang - and another one of the girls. There was a distinct 'you're-interrupting-something' vibe, so we headed to the next table where an older guy and a larger, young guy in a flat cap were smoking and drinking together. This was Rory...
Otherwise we'd have him forever.
Thankfully, Biggy Smalls and I had an ace up our sleeve. A VIP exit route - a cordoned off pathway out the back of one of the clubs, down which ordinary punters could not follow. Win.
It wasn't long after this that we encountered Mives and the mud flinging commenced. In Mives' excitement, and eagerness to cover us in Glasto goo, he slipped over and face-planted directly into it, encasing his right hand completely in brown gunge. How we laughed...
An awesome set by Clean Bandit followed the clean up, down at the John Peel stage, and we subsequently met up with more of the extended Glastonbury mob - LDA faffer (the ski trip before St Anton) Rob and his buddy Neil.
I'd heard whisperings on the crew grapevine that Chase and Status would be making a special guest appearance on the Blues stage, so we pitched up on the off-chance. Happily, the rumours were true, but unfortunately, the sound system was not up to St Paul's Carnival brain-splitting standards and a disgruntled crowd, craving heavy bass and disliking the constant rewinds and MC interruptions, booed and chanted 'TURN IT UP, TURN IT UP' until - finally - we gave up and headed to Shangri-La, holding hands in a colourful crocodile so we wouldn't lose one another en route.
Walking back to my tent at 6am in the daylight was confusing but inevitable, as we headed into the final stretch of Glastonbury 2014, not wanting to waste a single moment.
I had one more shift to work and the musical legend of my childhood, Dolly Parton, yet to see. Nursing a tired, tender body with some aerial acrobatics and juggling during the day in the Big Top, I prepared for one final Cockmill Bar hoorah with a couple of vintage cider chasers and a smoked cold meats wrap - gathering my strength for the 500m dash to the Pyramid Stage, which was full to bursting with Dolly fans of all shapes and sizes.
And weirdly enough, who should be 2 people in front of me, but Rory the squatter, sucking on a large, pungent roll-up.
To be continued...