Glastonbury Festival 2003, A Memoir by Kirsty Powell

As my fingers touched the inflatable ball, I felt like I was at home. Energy surged through my bones as if I had been struck by lightning. The intensity of that moment fuelled me for the rest of that day. Once you join in with the crowd, you feel part of the crowd. And there I was. I felt like a part of the Glastonbury spirit.
The crowd surfers above me dove in any direction they could muster, many hands carrying them on their way. I saw several of the same people throughout the day doing exactly the same thing. They just wanted to get closer to the band, or so I thought. It is the feeling it gives you that really intensifies what you are doing. You feel free above the waves of people, the odd hand snaking your foot or your hand, wanting to feel part of the moment. The thing was, that moment was real. It was reality. And I was there right in the middle of it.
I had drifted off from my sisters, one older, one younger, and had been pulled into the force of the mosh pit of Scottish rock band, Idlewild. The feeling was magnificent. There, around me, were people used to the effect of Glastonbury, or any ordinary gig. For me, it was a first. As the crowds pulled together, to make a machine more powerful than electricity itself, I was having the time of my life. It was my first time at the festival, I had come to dance, but these people were just jumping up and down. Fun? I asked myself. The previous morning I had been dancing along by Moloko. Today, however, I was being squashed into tight spaces and crushed by many trampling feet. I was only in a pink strappy top and old shorts. I looked a state, but they were the best clothes. Nothing was ripped; even my camera was safe, as I clutched it in my hand.
In an odd moment, or just between songs, I remember looking around at the faces beside me. Some were grinning, and though some were obviously enjoying the moment, they were frowning. Of course, it seemed strange to me, this weird, shy girl from the highlands of Scotland, as this had been my first festival. My first gig was folk music, a local band popular with the Chinese, named Shooglenifty, although they were very different from what I was experiencing last June.