Healing fields, an upset stomach and an unexpected miracle: my Sunday at Glastonbury

If you’ve been keeping up with my Glastonbury diary this week, you’ll be aware that I have packed quite a lot in thus far. Every day I’ve walked 30,000 steps, it’s been blisteringly hot with very little shade, and so come Sunday morning I was kind of in the mood for a slower day.

Having got to bed at 3.30am the night before (which is worlds away from my bed time), I had a lie in and took the morning gently. My first venture was to a family run food truck from Leigh-on-Sea where I swirled some ketchup onto my sausage and egg bap, headed back to my tent, and braced myself to apply my SPF in the heat.

Under normal circumstances I love a full fake tan. I’m very fair, but because I have rosacea I’m also quite pink, and the tan helps to bridge the two together. But by Sunday morning, I couldn’t be arsed to even look at the enormous stash of things I’d packed to groom myself with. Braving the showers, I washed myself head to toe, came out fluorescent white with my curls bouncing everywhere, and decided to embrace what God gave me. It was incredibly warm so I wore a little charcoal t-shirt, some red and white gingham shorts, and resolved to make one makeup mark for the day - a red lip.

Sali had texted me to see if I fancied a walk, so I met her and her friend and we took a tour of the outer parts of the festival. These two come here all the time and this was only my second ever visit, so they showed me all of the sights, told me stories, little known facts, and brought the fields to life for me.

On the journey we wandered through glittery clothes stands, someone pushing two adults dressed as babies in a buggy, a selection of hippy homeopathic tents, and found ourselves near the stone circle. It was a relatively short trek that had taken us through worlds and worlds of colour. We heard every genre of music, saw more activities than you could imagine (afternoon tea, make your own crochet? Take your pick), and then it ended out of nowhere into a vast open space. All five senses were quietened when we kicked off our boots and stretched our legs in the grass. I was about to experience my first Glastonbury cliche of the day: healing in the fields. (The second, incidentally, was seeing Alexa Chung.)

Sali is a really special friend to me. She’s someone I can always ask when I need someone to listen, as well someone I can ask when I need advice. One thing I always tell her is that I love meeting her friends. They’re a really lovely group who all operate on the same principles really: they’re all a laugh, they’re all kind, and that’s about it. We kicked back and spent hours chatting all things life, and I asked them for their take on a few creative things I was curious about. I came away feeling so indescribably energised, ready to come home and chase my dreams, and having laughed in a way that I have needed to for ages. It was chicken soup for the soul, no holds barred.

Music wise, I kept things quite short and sweet in the evening. I saw Wolf Alice with two of my friends - magical as always, but I had seen them at Primavera recently, so I caught a bit of Kate Nash’s secret set after a while. But in the name of being honest with you and not sharing an Instagram vs reality account of my day, disaster hit at this point in the evening.

One thing about me, I will always have a bad tummy. We don’t need to say too much here, but I had a volatile situation to deal with. A little sore and tender to be honest with you, I grabbed a cardigan, changed from my gorgey boots into my simple trainers, and made my way to the Pyramid Stage a little late for Olivia Rodrigo.

Just to recap, here I am feeling shaky, looking wild and running late. Fantastic combination. I see a tall guy with curly hair, recognise his face, clock two crutches, and my heart skips a beat. It’s Blaine. I have to go over to him, and FFS look at the state of me.

Blaine is the lead singer of the Mystery Jets, one of my favourite bands of all time, and I know it’s not cool to be mithering people when they’re just trying to have a bit of a break, but I couldn’t help myself but to tell him. Heading over to say hello, I explain that I really don’t want to bother him but Twenty One is one of my favourite albums ever and I play it all the time. He is so smily and warm, I get a feeling that it’s ok to talk to him and run with this belief for the next little while.

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Cards on the table, I was fuming. Of all the days to bump into Blaine, could I not have met him on night one so that I had a full tan on, hair blow dried, ANY makeup left on my face, and we could have just fallen in love and lived happily ever after? This would have been me done. I could have found myself making proud TikToks in the wings of every Mystery Jets performance from hereon out. Appointed myself official correspondent for all the backstage lolz. Given I was looking more Billy Connolly than Billy Piper at this point, I quickly told myself to get a grip and just chewed the ear off the poor boy regardless.

I ask him if he remembers a secret gig he did in Liverpool, on a boat, that was a magical evening for me about 15 years ago? He does. I tell him he even sang an old song that night, Diamonds in the Dark, because I requested it at the front and how much it meant to me. He introduces me to his friend Henry Grace, a singer he assures me I need to check out, and though he is so incredibly kind and warm, I feel in my gut it’s time to leave them to it.

Blaine is headed in the opposite direction to me, so I ask them where they’re going.

“We’re going to Olivia Rodrigo,” he tells me.

“So am I, isn’t it that way?” I say, gesturing behind him.

“I need to use the accessibility route so I’m going this way,” he explains, gesturing behind me.

Well given that we’re all going in the same direction and I am just mesmerised to be in this moment, I invite myself to walk with them and we all meander over to the gig while we talk all things Mystery Jets.

It’s always going to be a risk meeting someone you admire so much. I cannot tell you how often I play that album. It came out when I was at uni, and in all honesty it wasn’t the easiest time in my life so it ruffles quite a lot of emotions but reminds me of so much happiness for sure. When I think of those songs I can see old clothes I’ve long forgotten, smell my Thierry Mugler Angel, feel the fear of wanting my internships to go well. I can’t believe I’m here with him.

What struck me about Blaine was that he answered all of my many questions and then asked me lots about me too. Here he is trying to chill out with Henry, probably hasn’t stopped being accosted all day, and yet he took the time to make me feel like the conversation was two way. Parting ways when we arrived at the gig, he told me it was lovely to see me again which I just thought was the most kind of touches. No, he won’t have remembered someone he met that many years ago with the amount of gigs he’s played. But he knew how much he meant to me, and wanted to make me feel that he did so. 35 year old me put it down to the magic of the healing fields, and 21 year old me is having kittens in the multiverse.

A bit on another planet at this point (and lest we forget, still delicate), I found a spot to the front and left of Olivia Rodrigo. I don’t know all of Olivia’s songs super well but some of them I know inside out and obsess over, and I loved learning everything in between. She had such a beautiful stage presence, so charming when she spoke, an amazing musician as well as singer which I hadn’t realised. When she announced that Robert Smith of the Cure was her special guest, I found the whole thing really moving.

I’d had such a magical day with Sali and the gang, reassured that my dreams would come true if I worked at them. My volatile tummy was a redirection from the universe so that I would cross paths with Blaine. And now Robert Smith, one of the most utterly warming musicians I could think of, was playing Friday I’m in Love. I know everyone’s posts are all a bit cult-like, but there really is something very magical about Glastonbury, and this moment was where I felt it the most. It hit me in a wave and I reflected on what a truly fantastic time I’d had for the last 3 days. I had a little happy cry, sang along, and soaked it all up for one last evening.

The Pyramid Stage, as I’ve told you before, does freak me out a bit. It’s so big and that volume of people just makes me feel a bit on edge. So I waited for Deja Vu, by far the song of Olivia’s I think is the most beautiful, and had it is as my haunting lullaby before I went to bed. I made my way back during her last couple of songs (I’d checked Setlist FM so I knew I was near the end), and the fireworks burst above my head as I got one last cup of tea to take to bed. The boy at the hutch was asking me about my night and laughed that everyone had gone onto the tea now.

One little Glastonbury touch I never told you about was Derek. Have you seen it, the Ricky Gervais show? My brother has autism and is non-verbal so requires a lot of care. When I first saw the concept of Derek, I was really unsure how I felt about it and couldn’t understand how this was going to work, but it’s one of my favourite comfort watches. Before I came, I downloaded the first two series in case I wanted something wholesome for the coach or when I got into bed. I’m home now so I don’t mind telling you - I was sleeping on my own so of course, as a girl, I’m going to be a bit edgy. Each night when I got into bed, I put one or two episodes on, let the gentleness sink in before I slept, and found that I met kindness at every turn as I wandered the farm the next day.

What I learned on the farm, I think, is that it’s ok to ask. My afternoon was so special when I asked Sali and her friends for their guidance and wisdom. My evening was so special when I asked Blaine those questions, and got to learn that this musician I’ve loved for years is actually just quite kind and normal. Call it my parasocial delusion but I even walked away thinking God if we lived near each other I feel like I could go to the pub with him. This morning, rotting away waiting for my coach home, I asked everyone around me if they’d make a little video telling me their favourite bit of the festival. I was too shy to do it but Naaman told me I had nothing to lose, and lo and behold I have a little video of us all exhausted that I’ll treasure forever. What’s the harm in asking? They can only say no. But look at what can happen when they say yes.

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Thank you so much if you’ve been reading these diaries. I made them mostly for my own memories but also to try and give you an idea of Glastonbury that tells a story outside of the Instagram photos. If this is the first one you’ve found, I’ll link parts 1 and 2 below.

I hope you had a lovely weekend too. Thank you for following along with mine.