Sometimes when you finally can relax in the bathtub after a week’s hard work, you get this perfect idea for something so that you can’t just continue lying there – you must get out and create FAST before the idea vanishes into the thick mess of thoughts it originated from. This was one of those times.
There hasn’t been so much happening on this site for more than a week, so I thought to tell you something I guess you’d wanted me to tell you since July. I’m going to tell you about the Glade Festival 2009 and as a bonus I’m going to mention a huge company you should look out for, and, for contrast, big hearts of people.
Let’s start with the evil corporation.
DAMN YOU, BRITISH AIRWAYS!
Our plane tickets home got £400 more expensive than originally thought.
After the coach from Glade Festival had arrived at Victoria Station, London, I had it all planned out. Detail-less, but planned. I and Delicious had four hours for sightseeing, then we had one hour travelling underground to Heathrow and we’d still have half an hour to spare for check-in.
Well, we did get to walk around a lot in our totally fashionable outfits, visiting Victoria & Albert museum, and learning, once again after ten years, that fish n’ chips ain’t no big deal.
VA’s exhibition “Telling Tales” didn’t have much to do about fairy tales as promised, but still planted some thought seeds. Worth stashing away in the back of our heads with all the other junk that could be used as inspiration some day.
The underground ride went fairly well, but somehow our thirty minutes to spare got eaten up by langoliers and we were three minutes too late to check-in. Fine, we thought. Wrong. The attendants claimed that the plane was already boarding and all the seats were full. Full minus the two seats that were OUR! Bastards. We had to buy new tickets for another plane leaving 14 hours later, so we spent the night at the airport. We met with a girl who had been stuck at Madrid airport for one hour, spend £90 on a taxi cab to make it to the terminal, and also got there three minutes too late. So we three hung around, indulging in the vast supply of picknick food in the grocery store, joking about putting the tent up just outside Heathrow airport and see if the security could send us home. Thanks, Annika, for the pleasant company!
Our way into Glade wasn’t that easy and cheap either.
Trying to explain TWO LATTES to a Korean salesperson at Starbucks Victoria Station wasn’t the problem (apparently we were the first two who noticed she wasn’t Chinese. Not that it helped anyone.)
Riding the bus to Winchester listening to two 40-year old latinas behind us jabbering for two hours wasn’t the problem either (yes I know I’m exaggerating, but it makes the story more colourful.)
At the Glade Festival campus, waiting in line with all these pretty girls for another hour was DEFINITELY not the problem.
The problem rose when finally arriving at the ticket booth to hand over our tickets.
We didn’t have any.
You see, the online store handling our tickets couldn’t send our tickets from England to Sweden in time, so we got booking numbers we could exchange for our tickets at the festival. And at “the end of the line” wasn’t where we could exchange them for our tickets, we found out after waiting there for half an hour while the officials (presumably) frantically looked for our tickets. We had to go to and look for them at the the car entrance ticket shop, which was pretty much half an hour walk with all the equipment we had to carry. Luckily, a nice guy, who, half way, gave us directions to where the hell we were supposed to walk, could look after our bags while he was still on shift. That saved us a lot of time. +1 to good people!
Finally at the ticket shop, the officials first wanted us to stand in queue, but hell no. We waited behind the booth where an official handed over the job to another official who gave the job to another official (and so on) to find our tickets. Which they couldn’t. The officials didn’t have a computer with Internet connection because it was 1989 and The Internet wasn’t invented yet (wait a minute…) we had to call the company which originally reserved our tickets.
The they had closed for the day.
Great. Our option was to send an email with our Sony Ericsson from 2005 (the future is bright), hoping for a refund, then buy two new tickets at festival price, which was higher than the pre-order.
No, it doesn’t stop here, dear reader, because we had only cash for ONE ticket! Are you fed up reading yet? You could skip over to my review of Glade, but you’re not smart enough and WILL continue reading this.
So, what could we do, you ask? Well, dear, I shall tell you. We could buy one ticket, and that person (which was me) could enter the site while the other delicious person waited outside. The adorable one (which is, and always will be, me) could go to the cash machine and withdraw the rest of the money. Oh noooo he couldn’t! Nooo, because the cash machines were OUT OF ORDER until the day after. It was pouring outside, but it couldn’t really get any worse. A shower was just refreshing. I went to the information desk and told three people my huge dilemma. The story about two, fucked, Swedish guys so looking forward to the festival but couldn’t get in. One inside with no money and no tent, the other one outside with a tent but no company. Both pretty sad.
Two girls (I’m sorry, I don’t remember your names, but one blonde haired and one black haired) were very nice to me, both listening, one cheering me up with some sparkling makeup (which stayed on for four days.) +2 to god people. After a while, this guy Dave, came to me, asking me how much money I had. I told him I had £120 and I just needed £40 to buy the other ticket. Dave handed me a note.
“What’s this?”, I said.
“It’s your ticket, Adrian, for $120.”
I took me a while to understand what just happened. From visiting all hells of Dante’s pyramid, I suddenly was in the express elevetor back to life. +10 to good people.
So, I went out again, told Delicious the bad news that the cash machines were offline. Of course he must go through the same agony, he IS my best friend! Then I gave him the ticket.
In the rain, which had gone pretty think by now, we walked, for a pretty long while, actually, because it was quite far between the entrance and the main campus, then set up our tent. Two times, actually, because we found a better spot after a while. We rested a bit, trying to pour out some of the rain water from inside the tent, then it was time for drinks, and exploring Glade Festival 2009.
Guys, please don’t expect other people to be so kind. Don’t fake you’re in trouble just to get cheap tickets. This is karma, right here. If you fool someone in helping you, then that kindness will go wasted on you, and someone who really needs help won’t get it. But if everybody are kind and helpful to eachother, everyone will be happy. Pass the karma around!
We are really grateful for the help we got from these people, and especially Dave who finally gave the evil powers the finger. Thank you, Dave, hope you enjoyed the festival and got the birthday cake we left for you at your office!
And now for a review of Glade. Or, maybe this is a good time to take a pause…. The third and last batch of pictures from the festival will arrive on Monday evening. A review will arrive before, or after that
Have a nice evening, and thanks for listening!
Luvz from Adorian