by Nathan Davey
There were two separate queues, one for the V.I.Ps and one for the standard ticket holders. The queue for the standard ticket holders was considerably longer compared to the other one. Their line was going so slowly that people were using their bags to save their places, while they run towards a bush for a quick toilet break. The V.I.P queue was moving a lot quicker as there were less people to put through security checks. Us two went to the back of the queue and gradually made our way to the entrance.
The man at the booth first looked at us like we’d joined the wrong line. He was about to get security to move us along, but then saw the lanyards and thought otherwise. He still didn’t look all that convinced about us. Suspicion was present across his face. I knew very well what he was about to accuse us of.
“Where did you get those passes?” he asked, “who did you take them from?”
“We didn’t take them from anybody” I said, “They were given to us”
“Given to you?” he asked, “bullshit! Who would give these to low lives like you?”
“Harry Grumsby” Lizzie said, “We gave him a lift home, were at his clay pigeon shooting party and, as a way of saying thanks, gave us the passes. He was going to . . . “
“That’s quite enough” said the man, “I don’t want to hear anymore of this crap. I have Lord Grumsby, Harry’s Father, on my phone. If you like I can call him up and ask if your bullshit story is true”
“Go ahead” I said,
“Alright, I will!” replied the horrible man.
He took out his mobile phone, scrolled through his contacts list, found Lord Grumsby and dialled the number. He put the phone to his ear. We could hear it ringing as the man smirked at us, he couldn’t wait to catch us two out. Finally Lord Grumsby answered the phone, a cruel smile played across the man’s face.
“Hello sir how are you . . . not to bad thank you” he said, “Now, I’ve got two Chavs here who are trying to get into the V.I.P part of the Festival. They say that they were given to them by Harry, its ridiculous isn’t it . . . what? . . . he did . . . you know them? . . . Sure, the lad’s in a white tracksuit and so is the girl, but the girl is wearing a black Paul’s Boutique jacket . . . so does that fit the description? . . . what? . . . There’s no need to shout . . . I didn’t know sir . . . well, they’re Chavs ,so it seemed rather odd that . . . I’m very sorry sir . . . I understand sir . . . I do love my job sir . . . no sir, there won’t be anymore problems from me, I swear . . . thank you sir, good day”
He hung up, put the phone away and looked at us both with a look of fake apology. He realised that he’d just made a huge mistake and wanted to make amends, not for any moral reasons but because he didn’t want to loose his job. He was shaking all over and started to get fidgety. Me and Lizzie were finding it very hard not to laugh at this horrible man’s misery, schadenfreude, what can you do?
“I’m so sorry Master Connor and Miss Penny” said the man, he now had a repulsively greasy smile on his face, that didn’t make us feel any more reassured, “go right inside. Your Tepee is number 10, right at the end. If you need any free refills on your mini-bar or toiletries, just come and see me and I’ll have it all arranged.”
“Thank you” I said, I spoke in the best posh voice that I could pull off, I also I turned by nose up in a mocking way, “I think we can put all of that . . . unpleasantness, behind us”
“Oh yes! Of course” the man was saying, “It won’t happen again, I promise”
“I do most sincerely hope not” said Lizzie who was also doing a silly posh voice, “because if you do, we’ll tell Lord Grumsby . . . “
“No, no, no!” interrupted the man who was starting to get panicky, “they’ll be no need for that madam. Just go right inside and I promise you that there will be no more problems”
“Very good” I said, “carry on!”
We walked into the V.I.P sector doing a silly posh walk, with our backs straight and our noses pointing upwards. Once we were out of sight from the man at the front booth, we allowed ourselves to stop doing the walk and laugh our heads off. I had done an awful lot of laughing on that trip, on this occasion I genuinely thought that my head was going to explode from it all. We calmed ourselves down and set about looking for our Tepee.
There were two long lines of these Tepees, all facing each other like houses do down a street. The Tepees were tall, large and could fit at least twenty people in the front room alone. The Tepees had ensuite bathrooms and very comfy beds. We walking along looking for our own and peering inside everyone else’s. Each Tepee looked exactly the same with the same cosy looking suite of coaches with foliage print. We found ours at the end and went straight inside.
A clock was sitting on a bedside table. The clock said that it was 3:00pm. It was then that I realised how much has happened in that one day. There was still a lot more of the day left to have a look around the Festival. Lying on the bed was a copy of the Festival brochure, inside the brochure were lists, days and times of all of the acts that were going to play during the week long run of the Festival. There were hundreds of fresh bands that I hadn’t heard of. My first instinct was to look to see if Purple Skull were playing. I was disappointed when I couldn’t find them on any of the lists. After having a good look over the brochure, I handed it over to Lizzie to flick through.
We didn’t stay inside the Tepee for too long though, as we wanted to catch some of the action inside the Festival. Once we knew where our accommodation was, we left it and ventured out of the V.I.P sector and into the main area of the Festival.
The only was I can describe The Occasion, is that it was completely and utterly mad. It was bonkers, in a cool way though. There were tents pitched up everywhere, all of them had bizarre and interesting things inside of them. I saw one tent with lots of people sitting crossed legged on cushions, they were all smoking from huge shisha pipes. The smell of the many flavoured tobaccos filled the air and they mixed to together to create a strangely wonderful scent. We passed tents selling beads, crystals, incense and herbal medicines. Another tent we passed was full of mats for meditation and praying.
This world was mad, unusual, different and fantastic. I loved every second of it. The main thing I loved about these people is that we had something in common. We were both considered social freaks, even though we all have the same blood pumping through our veins. Just because we have developed our own culture and way of life, the mainstreamers want nothing to do with us. I almost felt a sense of unity as I walked through this brilliantly beautiful world of spiritual expression. I felt such an emotional connection with these blokes, who had created an entire Festival in which they can celebrate who they are.
Outside of these iron walls, these kinds of people would be scorned, frowned upon and mocked. In here, everyone who enters can be whoever they really are in their hearts. It was so thrilling to be apart of this social revolution. We saw eccentrics, transsexuals, homosexuals, pagans, beatniks, female impersonators and many more people allowing their real personalities out. It was all so modern and liberal. No one cared about how others looked. No fights broke out over race, religion or sexuality. There was no hatred. There was only acceptance and peace. The world inside these walls was how the world should be outside the walls. The world needs more love. The world needs less hate. The world needs more unity. The world needs to move on from dated philosophies. The world needs less censorship. It’s all good for me to say these things, but what difference would it make? Oh well, it’s always nice to dream and hope that such a utopia will appear. It probably won’t. The hope that it might happen puts my faith back into humanity. The only time I would lose hope completely is if, B.E.N stops all programming to show the nuclear emergency broadcast.
We kept on walking through this collection of brilliant eccentric wonder, all the time completely fascinated by it. Music was playing loudly from all directions. We passed stages where bands were playing their hearts out. We passed couples of all sexualities kissing on the grass. We saw people
creating art on canvases with many spectators watching them work.
The two of us were so completely absorbed by everything that, at first, we had no idea that there was a man walking beside us trying to gain our attention. He was shouting at us and waving his arms. Eventually he came up to us and put his hand on my shoulder. I turned to see a very broad face, covered in scars, with shortly cut hair and a brutal expression.
“Mate” he said, he spoke in a very deep voice and spoke with a strong cockney accent “Are you Aaron Connor?”
“Yes” I replied, “do I know you?”
“No” he replied, “but I know you. My cousin told me all about you. His name was Joe. He’s a theatre director. He told me about how you got him out of a fix up in Scotland”
“Yes, that’s right” I said,
“I also hear” he continued, “that you two are on a journey across the UK, to try and help as many people as you can, right?”
“Yeah” answered Lizzie,
“Well, I might have a little job for you in London” he said, “for security reason, I’d rather not tell you what is until we get into London. We’ll go tomorrow, so you can at least enjoy the rest of the day here at the Festival. I’m know that it may be a bit short notice, but you’d guys would be a massive help. So, will you do it?”
I and Lizzie looked at each other. We shrugged and turned back to the large man. The man smiled and shook our hands enthusiastically. His grip was very firm, our hands were practically buried within those huge hands. He put a hand into the inside pocket of his sheepskin jacket he was wearing. From the pocket he took out a large cigar as thick as a log. From another pocket he took out a cigar cutter and a lighter. He cut the end of the cigar, lit it and began to smoke from it.
“Hold on lads” he said, “I forgot to introduce myself. My name’s Barry, Barry Pepper”
“Nice to meet you” I said smiling,
“Where do you want us to meet you?” asked Lizzie,
“As early as you can” answered Barry, “go to the car park. I’ll be there. Have you got some transportation?”
“Yeah” I said, “We’ve got a Moped”
“Cool” said Barry, “You can follow me to London. We’ll go to my flat in Soho, when we’re there I’ll explain what I want you two to do. Is that ok?”
“Sounds fine” I said,
“Very good” he replied, “I’ve got to meet someone. So, I’ll see you tomorrow. You better turn up”
“We will” I assured him, “see you then”
“Right” said Barry as he walked away.
At the time we were very happy with the fact that we had yet another person to help. We didn’t know what a huge mistake that would become. The problem was that we trusted people too easily. We had no idea what it was the Barry would possibly need a hand with, all we knew was that we were finally going to get to see London. We walked away in high sprits, now with something to look forward to.
On one of the stages was a Ska band playing some Madness tracks. We stopped to have a listen as they were good. I love being in an audience of a Ska band. Within a Ska band audience you get two-step dancing, the jumping, the shoving, the laughing, the bouncing and the hopping. This was no exception. The entire crowd was pulsating to the beat of the music. Everyone looked like they were having a bloody good time. Once again, people of all shapes, sizes and races were all mixed together in that crowd, all dancing with a care. Me and Lizzie looked at each other, shrugged and joined the dancing crowd, ignorant of the huge mistake we’d just made and how much trouble we were about to get into.
CHAPTER TWENTY – ONE
It was getting dark and people were heading towards a lake. The lake was in the centre of the field in which the Festival was being held. We didn’t know why everyone was going there, all we knew was that something pretty cool was going to happen there. Once again we just went with the flow and followed everyone through the maze of tents, flags and caravans. The crowd led us to the lake where we had to cross a temporary floating bridge to get across.
As we walked across on the wobbly bridge, we passed a huge Mark Twain style steamboat/hot air balloon that was floating in the lake. It was a beautiful piece of artwork. After doing some research about it, I found out that the centre piece in the lake is different every year. Other years included a giant moth, a pirate ship, a castle and a London style red bus. It’s tradition at the end of every year of the Festival, to set the centre piece on fire and blow it up with fireworks. We weren’t going to be there for that now because of Barry. Nonetheless we were going to be able to see the Opening Ceremony, which was also going to take place on this centre piece.
The bridge was horrible. Not only did it wobble when you walked across it, it nearly capsized because of some kids who kept jumping on it. It was made of grey plastic and felt like you were walking over loads of petrol containers that were all tied together. The plastic was so thin, to keep it afloat I guess, that it bent inwards slightly when you stepped on it. It was very unnerving. Thankfully it didn’t take us long before we were on the other side of the lake on solid ground.
We joined the rest of the crowd who were gathering to watch the centre piece from the side of the lake. The sky was still growing darker. We had no idea what was going to happen or why everyone seemed so excited. Very soon we were completely cocooned in eccentrically dressed people. Literally everyone at the Festival had come to stand on this small area beside the lake. It began to feel cramped. The thought process I had was that if it did come too crowded, just jump into the water in front of me. Problem solved. Having that thought in mind stopped me from getting panicky and claustrophobic. I grabbed a hold of Lizzie’s hand so I wouldn’t loose her. She gave my hand an affectionate squeeze, which made me smile subtly in darkness.
Techno music suddenly started to play from speakers at full blast. Onto the boat came several people wielding poi, hula hoops and sticks. They all got out lighters and ignited their items. Soon there was an incredible display of performers with the fiery objects, flying and twirling around their bodies in time with the music. The crowd cheered and clapped along in time, me and Lizzie joined in as we were mesmerised the performer’s skills. No matter what they did with the fire, or where they put it, they were so well trained and skilled that they didn’t get burnt even once.
It was pretty good. I’d never seen anything like that before and wasn’t expecting it. It was mind blowing. The act ended with one man coming out with a torch on fire, he blew into the fire at incredible force and propelled it forwards at an incredible distance. It looked like he was a fire breathing dragon, it was amazing! When this man finished his act, all the fires were put out at the same time by dropping them into buckets of water. Fireworks set off from the boat and illuminated the sky in dazzling colours. Soon the music stopped, the fireworks ended and the ceremony was over.
There was much applause, clapping, whistling and whooping from the audience. Once it had been confirmed that it was the end of the ceremony, the crowd dispersed once more and went back to their personal business. We did so as well and had a lovely stroll along the edge of the lake with our arms linked.
It was a lovely night. It was a lovely break. It was like a very brief little holiday before going back to our mission the following day. We had that one night all to ourselves, to enjoy every moment of freedom and to reminisce about all that we’ve been through so far.
I finally had a moment in which I could really think about everything we’d done, the places we’ve been to, the people we’ve met and the friends we’ve made. Even though we were two very small people in this enormous universe, we both felt that we’d really made a tiny difference.
There was a hand full of people in the United Kingdom who now knew one fact because of us: Not all Chavs are bad. Hopefully we’ve convinced them how much that word can hurt their fellow human beings. I just hoped, with all my heart, that the people we’ve come across will not look at a “hoodie” in the same way again. No longer will
they feel hatred or fear when they see someone wearing a tracksuit. No longer will they ridicule and make fun of us. Hopefully, they now know that we are people.
We are people just like them. Money and social background shouldn’t make any difference to the relationships between us. We live under the same sky. We drink from the same water. We walk on the same ground and the same soil. We are all the same, no matter where your clothes were bought or where you came from. I just hoped that this trip was really worth something. Even now, as I’m sitting here writing these words, I’m still not sure if it was all worth it. Only time will tell.
I and Lizzie headed back to the Tepee after at least a few hours of wondering around. Our legs were tired from walking and the sky was almost black. We were ready to get some rest for the journey ahead. Neither of us had ever been to London. We’d only seen it on the television and in films, so we were excited to see the iconic city for the first time in real life. Both of us wanted to be wide awake for that, so the memories would be clearer in our minds for the future.
Wondrous things still passed us as we made our way back. It seemed to us that this was the party that never sleeps. More people in bizarre costumes were hanging about in tents chatting. Some more live bands were playing, which we could hear muffled behind the canvas walls as we walked by them. A couple of drunken chaps wondered merrily by with no sense of direction what so ever. Colourful lights blinded our path and good music was deafening our ears.
It didn’t take long for us to come out of the main Festival and approach the V.I.P section. We showed the woman our passes. She confirmed that they were genuine and let us in. Some people from this section had already returned. Many of them were smoking happily and contently on Shisha Pipes and long Churchwarden pipes. I saw one bloke smoking from a corn cob pipe outside a tent which had the Stars and Stripes hanging up inside. This really did seem like the chill out zone, away from the crazy partiers beyond the barriers. It was nice to have some quiet time for relaxing.