Camp Triangle

Post by: David
First year at Camp Triangle:

• Wednesday 26 Oct 2016 (8 years ago )

After failing to get a ticket and having been to every Glastonbury since 1993, there was only one thing for it – enrol in the Piss Police!  Here is a potted account of what our weekend was like.

Day 1, Tuesday – “I remember this when it were all fields”

Arrived at around eight in the evening, buzzing but slightly apprehensive after hearing horror stories of the state of the site after the worst pre-Glasto rain for years. YouTube had been full of videos showing tractors wheel-deep in lakes of mud. Don’t worry, I said to my two Glasto virgin companions it’ll dry out soon enough. So long as it doesn’t rain again over the weekend. I can’t quite remember how that panned out…

We parked in one of the staff carparks, pleasingly close to Gate D and proceeded to lug our gear on site. Our new inflatable tent weighed 19 Kg but, hey, the bag’s got built in wheel, so what could possible go wrong? Oh yeah, it’s muddy. Very muddy.

We got the tent pitched by 22:30.

Off to the naughty corner for a drink and chill in Macceos crew bar at Block 9, for a couple of hours.

Day 2, Wednesday – Phoenix Nights

First order of the day was to get wristbands sorted after failing miserably the day before. Me and our crew supervisor, a lovely lady who had never set foot on Worthy Farm before Tuesday, attempted to meet up for the transaction.

It took an hour.

A couple of snippets of our phone conversations:

Me – “where’s the entrance to the Dairy ground?”

She – “Next to the toilets”

Me – “I’m right by Gate D, where do I go from here”

She – “can you see a field in front of you?”

After an afternoon and early evening mooching around and watching the site fill up, we headed off to the Love the Farm stewards’ muster point, in the Dragon field, right next to the Unfair Ground. After receiving our delightful pink tabards we then headed off to the Park field for a spot of bonfire-guarding and our first taste of piss-policing. Take it from me – stopping people from pissing where they shouldn’t is a lot harder than guarding a bonfire. But more of that later.

‘Guarding the bonfire’ turned out to be ‘watching the bonfire from the best seats in the house’ as there were literally NO nutters attempting to jump the cordon and vault the fire. The wicker phoenix fireworks nearly all went off at the right time and a grand time was had by all. So far, so good.

Day 3, Thursday – Farage, as in Rhymes with UK Garage

Day off, drank some booze, did some stuff, stayed out late, heard the depressing news coming from the early referendum results.

The less said about that the better….

Day 4, Friday – Little Vietnam

Today was the big one – our first full 8 hour shift doing proper piss-policing. Eight in the evening till four in the morning sounded quite daunting, but we were up for it.

We were allocated the Glade to steward – a Drum and Bass night, so not perfect for me.

A soon as we got there I could sense there’d be trouble. I was placed at the back of the stage, right by some trees and bushes by the exit to the Other stage. The area had been colonised by a group of around 8 lads, late twenties/early thirties, all from a Northern city renowned for the outspokenness and anti-authority nature of their people. I could see by the pools of liquid in the hollow that I was guarding that they had been using this as their personal toilet for some time. The amount of empty cans confirmed that they had been there a little while.

The running battle I had with the lads lasted a good hour and left me frazzled, not least because I had to try to guard an area where there are two entry points – every time I went to one end, the rascals would start pissing at the other. Add to this the constant abuse and accusations of perverted tastes and you can imagine what it was like. It wouldn’t be so bad, but, despite appearances, I really don’t get off on women pissing in public (and there were plenty of them).

After the gang of S… lads from a large Northern city… left, shouting their farewell (though, in reality mostly light-hearted) abuse, things started to settle down a bit. Torture of a more subtle nature soon followed, as people started asking me directions to Underworld. Unfortunately, escorting them to West Holts and staying with them for an hour or so wasn’t an option….

Day 5, Saturday – New Order!

No duties today so we could properly chill out. Highlights were an afternoon with Billy Bragg and Beans on Toast before getting ready for the highlight of my weekend – New Order. Did our usual dirty stopout routine in the naughty corner, including a memorable set from Carl Cox. I say memorable, but, to be honest, it’s a bit hazy….

Day 6, F*&king Coldplay?!

So… who is on at the Glade tonight (for that is surely where we’ll be located again…)?  Techno and House you say? Well, that will do nicely, thanks!

“What do you mean we’re at the Pyramid stage? Fucking Coldplay!” I felt like I’d found a brand new pair of Guccis only to learn that I had to have a leg amputated.

Now, I have to say that I haven’t been at the Pyramid stage for a headliner since the virtually mandatory (though ultimately disappointing) Stones set, so I was blissfully unaware of the mayhem that would greet us. It was rammed and it was muddy. Some of you may have forgotten about the mud – it was muddy.

We soon found ourselves in the middle of what was looking like might turn out to be a serious safety issue. When I say rammed, I mean RAMMED. Right to the top of the Pyramid field and overflowing at the sides. For Coldplay. We were deployed at the top right corner of the field to try to deter people from going into the field. The two (real) cops who, were there when we arrived, soon left, on the grounds that it wasn’t their job.

Anyway, no one died and the crowd did seem to quite enjoy Coldplay.

After Coldplay we mooched around the Corner for a bit, sucking the last dregs of life out of the festival.

Would I do it again? Yes, in a shot, compared to some of the crew, particularly the bar staff, the gig was a cinch. But only if I couldn’t get entry by any other means.

Day 7, Monday – Home

Wow, what a weekend! I think we’re all ready to go home though. The thought of nice big bed with a nice big mattress is most appealing. Especially since it’s less than an hour home. Roll on next year.

PS: Did I mention that it was muddy??