This year marks 21 years of T in the Park and after its 20th anniversary, it’s hard to imagine how they will top the bill. I, like many others have attended the infamous festival in 2011 and 2012 and among some pretty horrendous memories it was also one of the best weekends of my life. In 2011 I was lucky enough to have cousins nearby and had the joys of a shower every night and a warm comfy bed to sleep in. For those of you that say this isn’t the proper way to do a festival you’ve clearly not been jumped on in the night or had mud in every orphus. But, giving everyone their dues in 2012 I camped.
With everything packed and having used a local butcher to vacuum pack my clothes allowing for more- I can’t even say alcohol- space for things, I was all set. Travelling up with my friend from school, the journey there was filled with selfies and pictures of the T in the Park road signs. Once there I was all set for my adventure. Walking in step with drum beats coming from the park and the chatter of other campers, my adrenaline was pumping and the noise and colour was just unbelievable. After going for my first danger wee in a porter loo, we were all set to queue up with everyone else and have our bags searched and tickets checked.
Some of my best memories come from my time in that queue. I met a man who had just been branded with a new tattoo for T in the Park the previous day- all kinds of hygiene going on there. A group of lads who had two wheelie bins full of drink, who asked if we would like to hitch a lift in their mode of transport. And a fellow camper who was only there “to get drunk and high” and didn’t care if he never saw an act, he was going to see out his days in the slam tent.
After the funny looks over my vacuum packed clothes and surprising lack of alcohol when my bag was searched, we picked up my refresh band. To any virgin festival goers get a refresh band, when you are at the stage where you can’t tell the difference between your hair and straw and there is more beer, or worse than product in there you want that shower. Finally in, we searched with the hoards for a camping spot.
After finding the rest of our year we set up camp and persisted to entertain ourselves for the next few hours watching screeds and screeds of people pile in. Late in the afternoon I went on a magical mystery tour to find my cousins. My cousins are brilliant and great fun to be around but the T in the Park stress was clearly prevalent when I met up with them. Brought in on two sledges were four or five crates of cider and not to mention the abundance of bottles in bags. Once in a spot and joined by friends the great task of getting the 8 man tent up commenced. Meeting fellow campers as we did so, the tent was soon up the night was started. On introducing my cousins to my friends they persisted to name themselves Tobias and Tarquin. I was privately educated and they believed that all public school children were posh! Meeting a friend who proclaimed she was hammered after two shots, didn’t help my case.
Contrary to popular belief the following day was scorching, so much so I got burnt. After being allowed into the main arena we took our positions for the Darkness. Live music and heat and no mud, life couldn’t get much better. I was even managing to dodge the flying beer. After experiencing possibly the best macaroni cheese in the world and watching my cousins spend the most amount of money at the Oxfam stand resulting in a prize; buying a welsh rugby shirt, a tweed jacket and a wedding dress, fancy dress Friday was off to a flying start. Bumping into Alan from the hang over, 3 Borats and wonder woman we were set for the headliner. Snow Patrol headlined and my friend and I go ourselves in with a group of Irishman, who said potato, potato after every second word. Enjoying the night with another fellow ginger we were both beside ourselves when they brought Ed Sheeran on to preform alongside.
Saturday wasn’t so enjoyable. The heavens had opened. Wearing three layers and a waterproof, every layer was soaked and I was now starting to hate my time at T. Our tent was muddy inside and out. I had no dry clothes (my vacuum packing had failed) and people where now opting to swim to their tent instead of walk. During a break in the weather and break in between acts a friend and I took the time to plan our day. This is where I met John. John while under the influence proceeded to grind and slut drop down me while singing the White Stripes, Seven Nation Army, flicking my hair around my face. When I didn’t seem to reciprocate his feelings, John asked me if I was a fan of the Stone Roses (headlining that night) as he was off to see them and knew all the words- while still singing Seven Nation Army- wrong band my friend but 10/10 for effort.
T in the Park from then on is pretty much a blur. David Guetta’s set on Saturday was insane and a memory that will stay with me. As well as being offered, in copious amounts, ecstasy, jelly shots and some groovy looking box of wine. But the rain hadn’t stopped and mud was now up to knees in places, making walking back to the tent a difficult task.
My time at T was epic and I would defiantly do it again but now I know what to expect. Sunday was horrible and I ended up packing up early along with a lot of people. So to all the campers heading off today or in the next couple of days go prepared bring your really unattractive poncho, it’s better than a thick rain jacket, don’t put your tent at the base of a hill and don’t waste a single minute! Experience everything, don’t wimp out early and get a refresh band!
