A few weeks back, I declared my retirement from music festivals. I was battered and bruised, still nursing my All Together Now war wounds: a sore back from repeatedly heaving myself up off the ground where I had been forced to sit like some kind of animal; a deeply troubled series of hair knots, facilitated by four days without a shower and repeated soakings; and an overpowering dose of The Fear.
I’ve had time to...
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