So last night I stepped on to the 2nd to main stage at Glastonbudget Festival (the UK’s biggest unsigned and tribute acts festival), soaked to the bone and freezing cold, to an audience of 100 or so at around 11:30pm. Despite the awful weather conditions the crowd was upbeat and full of life and I was there in my element, having a blast playing to people on a great stage.

Rewind about 7 and a half hours and I’m traveling to Nottingham on the bus, the rain beating down outside. You see, I’d decided in my head that it was perfectly feasible to travel all the way to a farm in the middle of nowhere via public transport – on a Sunday of all days too! I hadn’t been able to get a lift from anyone, as Glastonbudget do not allow a +1 in to the festival grounds for the unsigned acts (who consequently I might add don’t get paid to perform, don’t get travel expenses, and get put on stage at ridiculous times) – and so I didn’t feel comfortable asking someone to drive me there and sit and wait in the car outside of the festival grounds whilst I played just so they could drive me back home.

Planning a journey on Google Maps told me I had to get a bus from Chilwell (where I live), to Nottingham, then a bus from Nottingham to Hoton, then a bus from Hoton to Wymeswold, and from there a 5 minute walk to Turnpost Farm (the grounds for the festival – I’d later find out it was much further than a 5 minute walk too.)

All was going swimmingly until I reached Hoton. Being a small village there are lots of unnamed little side streets, and half the bus stops have no timetables or even tell which buses pass by. It took me around 30 minutes of walking around in the pouring rain to find the right stop, only to be greeted with a timetable that said ‘NO SUNDAY SERVICE.’

‘Great’, I thought. ‘Google Maps, YOU HAVE FAILED ME.’ It seems Google Maps leaves out little details like that (even though you can plan your journey on the date you’re meant to go and the bus timetables it gives you are apparently correct.)

Looking on my phone’s satnav, I realised I had two options: A) go home, or B) make an hour long walk from Hoton to Wymeswold. ‘Well, I’ve come this far – I may as well walk the rest of the way’, I told myself. What a mistake!

By the time I got to Wymeswold I was absolutely soaked through and FREEZING. All my camping stuff was soaked too. Oh yeah – that was the other thing – I had to camp until the Monday in order to get back home because I was playing so late – and I’d have to make the same walk back in the morning!

From Wymeswold I quickly realised that Turnpost Farm was a lot further away than the 5 minute walk Google Maps had given me. Asking some of the villagers for the quickest directions, I was promptly sent THE WRONG WAY – and after 30 mins of walking, being able to hear the festival in the distance (sound really carries – at points I could hear music in between Hoton and Wymeswold) I realised I had to turn back and try again. At this point I was extremely stressed, tired, cold and wet. I’ve never hitched a ride in a car before, but upon hearing a car in the distance I thought ‘sod it, it’s worth a try!’

Here comes another mistake. The car stopped, I asked the driver where he was going. He said he was going to Glastonbudget, offered me a lift and so I hopped in. ‘Excellent!’ I thought – what a kind man. Then I saw the TAXI METER. I’D HOPPED IN A FRIGGIN’ TAXI – I’m pretty sure the driver had purposefully failed to mention that fact. Halfway there, he said ‘is £10 ok?’ – TEN POUNDS!!?? The journey literally took about 3 minutes. Not wanting any more hassle though I reluctantly paid – what else could I do? At least I was finally there. (He was an asshole to me too, told me to ‘take my stuff and get out’ upon arrival as apparently he had ‘another client waiting’.)

Upon entering the festival grounds it appeared most of the security and staff were absolutely clueless, and have as much of an idea of where everything was located as I did. I eventually found where I needed to go to get my wristband though. Right, next step – set up the tent! Then I could finally find some shelter, have a coffee and something to eat! I was so tired and hungry!

Setting up the tent did not go well unfortunately. Halfway through one of the tent poles snapped and fell apart, rendering my tent useless. Great – now where was I meant to sleep!? My only option then was to call every car owner I knew and see who could give me a lift back after I’d played my set. All I’ll say is THANK YOU ANDY YOU ARE A LIFE SAVER!!

So at this point all the panic was over, I’d calmed down knowing I could play and then just go home! Everywhere I walked it was like a pool of muddy slush – I feel very sorry for those who stayed there that night!

I retreated to the beer tent with a (very pricey) coffee, found a seat and had a bagel and boost bar that I’d brought with me. GOD DID THAT COFFEE AND FOOD TASTE GOOOOOOOOOOD.

And that brings me back to where I began. On stage, having fun! I’ve no idea how my hands managed to work enough to do all the crazy finger-picking I do on guitar, but they did. I’m glad that the one thing that went right that day (my performance), went really well! There were a few assholes in the crowd heckling me because they wanted ‘upbeat stuff’ and ‘leona lewis’ – but on the whole I was surprised how welcoming and appreciative the audience were towards an acoustic solo artist after they’d just been raving to a prodigy tribute band on the same stage. Some people up front were really getting into it and cheering me on, which was awesome

Anyway, the lesson I learned from the whole experience is that I can’t always do everything. Some things are just too impractical. I’m glad I did get to play – but really, I should have canceled. I always feel like I have something to prove to myself – I need to learn when to say no though

Congratulations if you’ve actually read all of this (will anyone? Who knows.) I hope you found it amusing or something. Woe is me.

Night,
Marc.