Festival faff

Ok, so I spent last night packing my bag for weekend number 2 away (you won't get a post tomorrow or probably even Monday because of this).

Weekend number 2 of 4 by the way. I have no idea when I am going to be in a position to get my wheelie-bin emptied (it gets collected on a Friday).

Anyhow, this weekend is V Festival, one of many in the UK festival season, and another entry in my Exciting August tradition. Only it nearly wasn't. On a number of occasions.

V has been part of the tradition for a number of years now. I go with university friends. Well, went. For one reason or another they have gradually dropped off over the years. Donna and Darren stopped to save for their wedding; Andrew and Vicki similarly (well, with Andrew it was more that he was getting old and didn't like spending so long without heating and a tv); and Abbie moved to New Zealand. A slightly drastic way to get out of it. So anyway, we all decided that last year was to be the last year we would go together, and we had a very enjoyable time of it. I have to say, knowing that no-one else was going, I wasn't hugely disappointed.

So I wasn't going. Well...

Anyhow, then it got to a few days before the tickets went on sale in March. One of my football friends got in touch to say he had seen who the headline acts were for the festival and he and his girlfriend wanted to go. They would like me to go with them. Firstly because I am obviously a very cool friend, they know I enjoy the festival and it gave them a good excuse to see good music with a totally awesome chap like me. That and they got to pop their festival virginity and could now say they had been to a festival before they died; but being virgins they were very wary and needed me as the voice of experience. Albeit exactly the same aged experience (or ever-so-slightly younger than my friend).

So now I was going. Well...

We still had to get tickets. It would be that morning that my train late so I got to work moments before 9am when the phonelines and websites went live. After around an hour repeatedly clicking refresh on the various websites and trying the various different phone numbers I was successful in getting my tickets!

So now I was going. Well...

The next day my friend lost his job. He asked what the cancellation policy was with the tickets as he was now not earning a wage. There was no policy - you cannot cancel once purchased. So he decided he would see how things went between March and the festival.

Things didn't get much better. He got a part-time job as a favour from a friend, but it was not enough. A few weeks ago his girlfriend asked me if I knew anyone that wanted to buy their tickets because they simply couldn't afford to go. I didn't.

So now, was I going? Well...

I don't mind doing a lot of things on my own. We've already seen that I can more-than-happily go to a gallery opening and get roaringly drunk on my own. And I have done it at V before too - I will frequently disappear off on my own to watch a band that no-one else wants to watch; or jsut to have a bit of time by myself. But it's a bit different when it is a weekend on your own. A long weekend. A full 36 hours, all on your own with no company except for any company you manage to make there.

Then there is the cost:
£175 for the ticket
£10 for the booking fee
£40 train ticket
£15 bus connection
£150 food and spending money.

And when you see the tickets selling on a popular internet auction site for well in excess of £200, not only could I make a saving, I could actually tidy up with a bit of profit.

And it isn't as though I had nothing else to do that weekend and would be spending it on my own at home. A very good friend had his 50th birthday party which I would very much like to go to; and another very good friend is returning to America after a year in this country and was having his leaving drinks. All things considered and the factors weighed up.

So now I wasn't going. Well...

I texted my friend and told him that, as none of my friends wanted the tickets; and I didn't want to go on my own, if he and his girlfriend weren't going then I was going to sell my ticket too. He got back to me after a while. I'm not entirely conviced he was aware his girlfriend has suggested they were to sell their tickets; but in the end his heart had managed to overrrule her head and they were going.

So now I was going. Well...

I got a text off him asking which campsite we were in. I replied that we selected them when we got there. He said that on some of the ticket resale sites people had tickets for certain campsites. Why was he looking at the ticket resale sites? Was he looking at selling his tickets without telling me? Was he going to leave me high-and-dry?

Was I going?

Well. I sent a text a couple of days later trying to finalise details.

He said he had emailed me.

Why had he emailed me?

Was it to let me know where to post his tickets?

This was just a couple of days before the festival. There was no way I could sell my tickets so quickly.

Was I going on my own?

Why couldn't he text me? I was on the train - I couldn't get my emails. What was in the email he couldn't put in a text?

The walk home has possibly never been longer.

I got home and checked my emails. He had simply asked lots of questions about what to take and what time to meet up. Nothing that couldn't have gone in a text.

So now I am going.

Well...