The Oxfam festival steward experience- Glastonbury 2014

Last weekend was my eleventh year of going to Glastonbury Festival. Yes, I was the weird kid at school that tripped off to sleep in a tent in a field for a few days when I was nine years old.

Me at my first Glastonbury in 2004

I’ve always been keen to support charities such as Oxfam as I think the work that they do is great, and so volunteering at a festival seemed like the perfect way to still go to a festival whilst doing something for a great cause. In fact, Oxfam stewarding raises £1 million every summer.

In 2012 my dad and I tripped off in the camper van to the Isle of Wight to steward our first festival with Oxfam- Bestival.

Stewarding at Bestival in 2012

Since then we’ve never looked back, and this weekend we stewarded our third festival with Oxfam.

We turned up on Tuesday morning to some rather admiring glances as our baby blue campervan was yet to be trashed with mud. Needless to say as the rain poured down later in the week the glances became somewhat green with envy as we cuddled down in our watertight van.

After we’d got our shifts we had a quick walk round the site which is one of the best perks of being an Oxfam steward. Glastonbury is one of the, if not the, biggest festivals in the world but being surrounded by hundreds of thousands of people on an hourly basis can sometimes seem a little claustrophobic.

In front of the Pyramid Stage on Wednesday

Being able to freely walk around the site as the organisers are putting the finishing touches on everything is a priceless feeling.

On Wednesday morning we were up at 5am to get ready for our impending 5.45-14.00 shift. We were put on Pedestrian gate B which meant checking tickets and letting people in and out of the festival.

In our bright orange tabards we trudged past hoards of eager punters waiting at the gates ready for them to open at 8am. I had no idea so many people come a long so early… but I suppose that shows the changing face of the festival.

We were put on the turnstiles and were counting punters into the festival whilst issuing them with their programmes and official guide. There was a lot of waiting around, and the anticipation in the air hummed with both excitement and worry. I suddenly became very protective over the site… “I don’t want these drunken punters ruining it! “I thought.

8am came and we were called into position when the big green gates were opened and the first excited (and probably very tired) punters ran in.

Eight hours slowly passed, my thumb was getting tired from counting people in, and my patience running out after trying to understand countless scousers, but the shift was nearly over.

Pedestrian Gate B- opening the gates

We had all spectrums of society pass through our gate, from geordies in hair rollers to a clearly disabled man pushing his wheelchair full of booze (which had to be the funniest).

The best thing about Glastonbury is that there are so many people you never know who you’re going to bump in to, and letting our friend, Louise, and her husband through the gate was one of those moments. It cheered our shift up though, that’s for sure. 

When our shift was over we dawdled back to the campervan for a well-deserved kip, and went out to explore the now very crowed festival later on that evening.

Thursday evening- tents filling up

Luckily two of our shifts were early on in the festival, and Thursday evening was our overnight shift. Wednesday had set us up for an exciting and fast paced role, but the eight hours between 10pm and 6am the following morning felt like forever as we let around ten people in to the site. 

Cold moment during the night shift

Early in the morning was a little more exciting as people were rolling in from their heavy nights out all the way up until 6am in the morning. As you can imagine, trying to explain to someone who’s partly incoherent and covered in mud that they need to keep their tickets and pass outs safe otherwise they won’t be allowed back in to the festival was a task in itself.

Friday was a day off, which meant a) sleeping and then b) partying… or as much partying as you can do on limited sleep. 

After a lazy morning we headed down to see Rudimental on the Pyramid stage with an ever looming black cloud plus thunder and lightning in the background. Before the set was finished the band were rushed off stage due to a localized power cut.

We decided to head to the cider bus (solution to everything) when the heavens opened. In all my Glastonburys I have never ever seen raindrops as big. Plopping into my cider, which was becoming more and more watered down, we ran for cover but I was already soaking wet.

Drying out clothes in the dance village post rain

Mud 1- 0 Glastonbury.

It was also the day of our first celebrity encounter at Glastonbury 2014, and I have to say I was least than impressed.

 We were queuing to go up the ribbon tower in the park, which looks over the whole site. As you can imagine, there becomes quite a queue as only eight people are allowed up at a time, and my dad and I had planned it perfectly so we’d catch the sunset.

As soon as we got to the front of the line the apologetic steward told us they were shutting it momentarily as Metallica were having a photo shoot at the top. Needless to say we were annoyed, as we’d queued for easily half an hour

.

After exchanging some angered words with the man in charge we got fobbed off with a free (very nice) bar of chocolate, and got a dirty look of Lars Ulrich (the drummer from Metallica) who seemed to be looking down on us peasant fans.

We gave them a miss on the Pyramid stage the next day.

Saturday was our last shift, and we were working 2pm-10pm. We were unsure of what to expect as I was positioned in the Oxfield (the area in which Oxfam were camping) and Dad was on response, which means you get called to an area if they require more stewards.

Saturday afternoon

Luckily the response was coming to sit with the bored and lonely girl by the gate to keep her company. The bored and lonely girl was me.

That Saturday afternoon felt like forever, particularly when we were stood cowering under a tree dripping wet from the continual rain that never seemed to pass: I’ve never been so wet in all my life.

Those eight hours were the worst of the festival, but once we’d finished we were able to go out and see some acts and elements of the site that we’d never have done previously.

Block 9

Sunday was our last day, and as you can imagine I was dying for a shower AND not having to put wellie boots on just to go to the toilet (ah simple things).

We had a great day walking round the festival but by 10pm everything had got a bit too much, and with worry that we would struggle to get the campervan out of the mud logged field I left with a heavy heart, but safe in the knowledge that it wouldn’t be the last time I would get to visit Worthy Farm.

Diary of a Glastonbury Festival Oxfam Steward

Day One

Tuesday 25th June 2013

5 am. Abruptly awoken by the sound of the campervan exhaust vibrating as it bellows out thick black smoke. Dragging myself out of the comfort of my warm bed to the cold air of dawn, within the space of five minutes I'm up, teeth and hair brushed, and running out the door in the very same bright pink onesie I wore to bed the night before- surely some sort of record?

Chugging down the M5 it wasn't long before we were in Glastonbury and rolling onto site. You can sit rather smugly when you're in a camper at a festival... as you will know if you've ever attended one in the past, organizers  seem to designate car parks as far away as humanly possible from where you'll end up camping, and so thus you end up lugging a whole weekends worth of clothes (for all weather), food, tent and other optional extras that only first timers bring- people that are blissfully unaware when packing of the five mile trek ahead of them, half an hour into their walk however wishing they'd not bothered and dumping at the nearest opportunity.

Being (and not to blow my own trumpet, but) intrepid and hardened festival goer I have endured my fair share of playing donkey and carrying my own body weight across muddy fields. A family investment in the campervan however has meant this torture exists no more: I can bring as much food clothes and optional extras as I see fit, and trust me, I do.

Taking all of five minutes to set up (another perk of having a campervan) we went and registered where we received all our shifts, wristbands, ID cards, and a lovely bring orange hi-vis before talking a walk into the festival site. My tenth year of Glastonbury festival walking into somewhere which, to me, feels like a second home jam packed with 100,000 other people, it was rather eerie walking through an almost desolate area before the public arrive tomorrow. The same feeling still hit me as I walked through the gate however... I'm home.

Day Two

Wednesday 26th June

You only realize quite how lucky you are when you're thrown into a situation where you have a minimum of a five minute walk to the toilet or nearest water point. So used to it being readily available wherever you are, I feel rather ungrateful cursing on my cold walk to the toilet this morning when in comparison to so many living in third world poverty, a five minute walk to the toilet is a luxury. Our three shifts alone each raise enough money to provide a house for a family in Syria. Yeah, you're doing it mainly because 205 quid for a ticket to a music festival is extortionate and you can't afford it, but that fact is a nice little extra that makes your 8 hour shift seem that little more bearable.

As I fall back into the routine of dealing with horrendous toilet facilities I remember my unwritten rule I've always followed when at a festival... never, wherever possible, chose the toilet a man has just walked out of. Everyone knows they are, even when sober, disgusting pigs, however mix a little beer into the system and not only does their stench become 1000x more pungent, but it means their aim is a little out, meaning for a filthy toilet not fit for a lady to use after they have soiled it. I still firmly believe that without men the festival would overall be a lot cleaner.

Tonight is our first shift, 10pm until 6am... ouch. The festival doors officially opened this morning and people are pilling in making it progressively busier. As we walk to our location, a vehicle gate on the opposite side of the massive site, it's interesting to note the intuition and creativity of methods people dream up to reduce the effort needed to cart across their beer and other heavier items, such as cider and other canned alcoholic beverages in copious quantities. The best I've seen so far has to be a wheelie bin... how did it even get here?! 

Day Three

Thursday 27th June

First thing in the morning, I've just returned from the night shift. Although the shift went seemingly fast, 6am could not have come quicker, and after giving a cheery wave to our supervisor Ocean (yes, really) we strolled off ready to spend the day in bed. 

I woke up mid afternoon by the rain pounding against the window and stayed in the campervan until 9pm at night when I knew it had stopped. The problem with festivals however is that it only takes a little bit of rain before 100,000 feet walking over the already saturated ground churns it up and lanes turn into mud slides- good job I brought my wellies. 

We took a stroll into the festival once the rain had stopped trudging through the already muddy paths... it is surprising how many people come to Glastonbury- probably the one festival renown for being the muddiest and wettest- without wellies, or even anything remotely suitable for mud, opting instead for flip flops and trench foot.  

The problem with Glastonbury now is, again being the ten year snobby Glastonbury veteran that I am, that the number of punters has dramatically increased whilst the site hasn't particularly. On a Thursday when  the main arenas aren't yet open it means that swarms of people head to those that are such as the dance village and the park... I'm already fed up of walking through annoying drunk people and it's only Thursday night... 

Day Four

Friday 28th June

The festival officially started today: the main arenas are open and, best of all, the sun is back out! 

We woke up and got ready for our next shift at 2pm-10pm... thinking it would be quite this afternoon as most deliveries were made earlier in the week we were in shock at how busy we were. After a slow start the shift soon descended into a star spotting session as we learned we were positioned next to the stars gate! We let in the likes of Greg James, Sinead O'Connor, Chase and Status, Major Lazer, The Rolling Stones (their four huge tour buses at least), Professor Green, Rita Ora, and best of all, Michael Eavis himself-not a bad day all in all.

Seeing Miles Kane, a personal favorite of mine, perform for a short while on our break, for me made the afternoon quite worth while, and finishing at ten to run off and see the Arctic Monkey's even more so.

Stood at the back of the crowd absolutely knackered from a hard days work I have to say I was somewhat disappointed with the Monkeys. Once a band that were full of energy with songs such as Mardy Bum and Florescent Adolescence there seemed to be a lack of it in their set, going through the motions as it were. Although they played their classics I wasn't sure whether it was the 8 hour stint of standing up I'd just endured or the set that was sending me to sleep! 

After getting back to camp we're settling down for the night when the sound of an acoustic guitar and bad singing starts... who in their right mind brings a musical instrument to a music festival?!(optional extra right there... they must have a van).

"Hey up, we've got James Blunt over there", says Dad, shortly followed by the slightly more offensive "shut the f*** up." 

Good job we brought ear plugs. 

Day Five

Saturday 29th June

Beginning to miss my home comforts; running water, flushing toilet, electricity and my boyfriend... all in that order! Today has been our day off and with the sun shining and 20 degree temperatures it couldn't have been better. Having a lie in in the morning we walked across to the far east side of the site down to Shangri La to watch Norman Jay. Firstly I found fifty quid... morals half go out the window at the festival, feeling rather guilty about picking it up with only a quick look round first played on my mind for the next couple of hours, however there is no where to hand it in, and when it's been dropped anything goes right?! Sat on the grass at the Shangri Hell listening to the perfect collision of African vibes and classic tracks. 

Rather sun burnt we went back to camp for something to eat before heading back out to watch Major Lazer. I've never before really been a fan, introduced by my Dad however that the band had tweeted that they ideally wanted a huge basket ball net and a helicopter to drive over and dunk it in during their set, I was assured it was to be an entertaining hour. And so it was. Erratic dancing from all and bopping in the early dusk set up for a great night steering clear of the Rolling Stones. Dad insisted we walk past the Pyramid stage on which they were performing on our way round to the other stage if not only to say " I saw The Rolling Stones at Glastonbury". It turned out to be disastrous. EVERYONE had turned up to see them. The biggest crowd I have ever seen swarming back even beyond the tents. It took us half an hour to shuffle through to the other side, and feeling rather claustrophobic and uncomfortable we got as far away as possible... I feel there should be a tshirt- I saw The Rolling Stones at Glastonbury and almost got crushed to death. 

The rest of the festival site was somewhat quite! So seizing the opportunity we watch a little of Chase and Status and went up to the park before returning back to Arcadia to watch Fat Boy Slim who was amazing. Arcadia never fails to amaze me... the fire, the lights and the music is a mixture which is perfectly combined providing a fantastic atmosphere. It only takes someone as big as Fat Boy Slim to make for a massive crowd pleasing set.

At around 2am we returned to camp in the knowledge that we had to be up at 5 for our shift... 

Day Six

Sunday 30th June

8 hours later... what a killer. Turns out sleep is pretty important... another boring shift but now we're free! Absolutely knackered, but free all the same. We stumble back to the camp, give back our hi-vis' and claim our reward... a green badge. All that work for a green badge!.. and the people in Syria, of course. We went back to bed for a little while however it wasn't long before we were out again, making the most of our time left. We saw a few acts and bought a few bargains in the last knocking sales that always happen on the Sunday before feeling massively drained watching the XX, and decided to boot it home before the rest of the punters had the same idea. Six days in a field, with a seat on top of a wheelie bin for a toilet and no shower seriously takes it's toll on you, and although I massively enjoyed myself I have never been more excited to go home! 

After a panic of the van not starting and coaxing her into life we set off... saying goodbye for another year safe in the knowledge that I'll be back again next year to endure the same emotional spectrum of experiences this week has brought.