Oh great, Kings of Leon are playing…
You have to join in with loads of weird festival fashion trends or risk looking like a weirdo
Take a look round a festival and notice how everyone’s in their short shorts, hunter wellies and see-through raincoats once it starts raining. Oh, and don’t forget the choker and pot of multi-coloured glitter smeared all over their faces.
Try to go to a festival without adopting the uniform of the “festival girl” and everyone will assume this is your first time and treat you like a child all weekend. Try to join in though and you look like as much of a twat as them. You can’t win.
They’re full of mobile phone addicts
What other explanation is there for the fact people will queue for as long as an hour for the ability to charge their phone? Like a druggie in need of one last hit before they quit, these people wait for half an hour’s access to electricity so they can get up to 30 per cent battery and send one last generic Snapchat of them wearing a crown made of flowers.
Heads up: if you didn’t spend the whole weekend tweeting and updating your Facebook status, letting the world know you’re “Havin’ a fab time @Creamfields”, maybe your phone wouldn’t have died after the first day.
You won’t like most of the music, and the music you do like will be ruined by twats
Surely, the main reason to go to any festival instead of a sunny beach holiday is because you’re interested in music. For a few quid a month, students can listen to whatever they want (apart from T Swift) on Spotify Premium, but at festivals you have to pay a few hundred quid to queue for hours to see someone you like followed by a string of wannabes and failed “next big things” that you can’t fast-forward through.
Even when you are watching a band you love, it doesn’t take long for the people near you to start ruining it. You know the annoying feeling when you’re listening to your favourite song and somebody keeps trying to talk to you? They’re the same irritating guys that are constantly shouting “Alan!” or “Steve!” in your left ear in the middle of your favourite song. How does anyone still think that’s funny?
Everyone smells disgusting
As if it’s not bad enough to be barged left, right and centre by those tools trying to shuffle and “doing it for the Vine”, you also end up stuck next to a lad who sweats buckets and loves waving his arms right up in the air for everybody to share the smell of his dripping armpits. How can people go this long without washing?
On a related note, ensure you plaster the toilet seat with masses of tissue if you can find any to make sure you don’t catch something.
Everyone’s too focused on getting high
It’s nearly midnight, you’re dancing away but the vibes get ruined when some random sweaty guy keeps invading your personal space and pestering you to buy some ket from him.
Yeah, you could relent and snort the god-knows-what baggie he hands over, but look around. Look at the guy next to you with the gurn so big his jaw may as well be on the floor? Now look at the people taking videos of him they’ll later upload to social media with the title “what a gurn! lol!” Why would you want to be part of this world? That’s without even considering the comedowns so rough you’d rather be cheese grating your own nipples.
You’re never able to get any sleep
Be prepared to wake up every morning in a cesspit of germs and B.O., slowly being cooked by the sun as it heats the outside of your tent. You’ll share your bed with a cheeky spider or woodlouse (no matter how hard you try to zip your tent tightly shut) and that’s forgetting the rock that manages to dig into your back all night. Sounds like fun eh?
Fingers crossed you’ve spent a fair share on a tent that won’t leak all over you, because let’s face it there’s more chance of rain in summer than getting any sleep while the loud guys outside your tent carry on partying until the mandy wears off.
Your friends will find all your festival stories boring once you get home
Don’t be “that guy” and bore your friends to death with festival stories you’ve told everyone a million times already. These stories always end with the teller covering how shit the story was by telling people: “You had to be there” or “It was a be-there moment”. If that’s really the case, do everyone a favour and keep your mouth shut.
You could buy so many other things instead
You’ll pay ridiculous amounts of money for the ticket alone, and then once you’re there the watered-down alcohol and cheap hot dogs are extortionately priced too. Add up how much the whole weekend costs and you could have gone for a week’s holiday with your friends somewhere nice, rather than a muddy field in the countryside.