EXCLUSIVE: Tali Lennox's Glastonbury Diary Part 4!

01 July 2011

In between squelching through the mud and moshing to the music at Glastonbury this weekend, British beauty Tali Lennox was busy writing her festival diary exclusively for this very site. What excitement! So following on from Parts One and Two and Three, here's the latest instalment in Tali's Glasto tale...

By the time I get back to the tipi this morning, it’s seven o clock in the morning and the sun is shining. The tipi is roasting hot, so after a couple of hours of trying to get to sleep I give up and decide to go through the final day running on my last bits of energy. I leave to get some water and find that half the area has been closed off by police, there is an ambulance and news travels that someone has been found dead in the toilets there…

After having a shower (another fantastic plus of staying in the tipi area and the first time I’ve ever been able to shower at a festival) I go to get a smoothie and meet my friends who say they couldn’t sleep either. The sun is baking and we all the lay in the grass and find ourselves dozing off. Wake up midday to grab some lunch and head to the John Peel stage to meet some friends before Hurts are set to play; the front man is my friend Theo! We sit in the sun with some nice glasses of Pimm’s enjoying the last day of Glasto, before watching a great set from Hurts by the side of the stage. I get a call from my friend saying she's getting the last train back from the festival and knowing I have work the next day and am running on just under an hours sleep, so I decide to join her, knowing that trying to get back on the Monday takes ages (my friend was stuck for 21 hours last year!).

With only half an hour to get all my stuff together and find my way to Castle Cary, I head back to my tipi and stuff all my belongings in a bag, but after dragging my suitcase along for 20 minute I know I won’t make it on time, so plead with a very friendly member of security to let me catch a lift in his truck to take me to the gate. We speed along and I look out across the fields, feeling like the time of coming in just the few days ago was so far away! He drops me off...but at the wrong gate! By this point I have to pull or more like drag my bag with my remaining strength down the road to the next gate, in my dazed and confused state I don’t realise there's a bus full of festival goers that I’m holding back behind me as I walk along the road with my suitcase, oops!

At the taxi rank I share a lift with some lovely dreadlocked girls who've been working for Greenpeace at Glasto, and we share our weekend experiences. Exchanging stories with strangers is something I always love to do at festival, as each and every person at a festival will always have endless entertaining tales of their own experiences and adventures. We make it to the station just on time, where my friend is waiting for me on the platform. I collapse onto the train seats along with rows of muddy and tired festival goers, who all look as though they've been on a crazy ride all weekend, and me with my mud stained jeans, frizzy hair and heavily dark circled eyes (but hidden under my dark Lacoste sunglasses, of course) fit right in with the rest of the worn-out festival goers.

The ride out of Glastonbury is surreal, I keep thinking the train noises are dubstep music beats and houses are tents, and after half an hour I’m already missing being in a place filled with such an intense level of happiness and music. But my body is aching I’m in want of my bed and a home cooked meal, and once I get back to Notting Hill I take off my muddy wellies, (realizing one of which is is definitely not mine) and have a feast in the kitchen on chicken, prawns, grilled vegetables, yoghurt, fruit and cornflakes! Then I hobble upstairs with my Glasto-crippled legs to say goodnight to my mum and let her know that I have in fact survived the weekend!


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