Thursday the 6th of September marked the first day of my Bestival experience on the Isle of Wight. Naturally, Mother Nature decided that the weekend I got to the festival I had been waiting all summer for, would be a time to unleash the British Monsoon.

Ironically, the theme for this years fancy dress theme was 30,000 Freaks Under The Sea - this saw adult men and women prancing around in homemade costumes of various sea-life creatures.

It was a sight to behold. The grounds literally resembled thousands of giant sea creatures swarming around in knee-deep watery mud - an aquarium at the world's most fucked up Zoo. Whilst I would love to say I participated in this affair, I just really couldn't be bothered, and stuck to normal festival fashion; wellies and worn-out denim.
 
When we entered the grounds it was apparent that the festival organisers had not accounted for any possible rain showers. Literally, everything and everyone was sinking in mud. It was safe to say that I was not pleased. Dreams of strolling around in flip-flops and sunbathing with a cold beer in hand were slipping rapidly away.
 
So. First challenge. Make it to the campsite. Unfortunately for us, it was positioned at the other end of the site, not so conveniently placed on the top of a massive hill. Glancing up, I could see fellow welly-clad, mud-caked festivalers grappling up the slippery mud-mass. The Hill quickly became known as slippy hill - for obvious reasons.

You make it all the way to the top, only to fall on your ass and slip all that way back to the bottom. Not fun. Very time consuming.
 
Second Challenge - make it past the throng of creepy, albeit spirited drug sellers. Rejecting the usual subtle drug selling techniques, they take the hard sell approach, practically forcing dodgy looking pills down our throats. 

My personal favourite, some manic looking girl who kept following us around asking us if we wanted laughing gas. Err...no thanks love, I do not want to end up looking like you. I mean, I know its a festival and all, and lets face it - hygiene standards do fall, but seriously you look like you've been rolling around in shite for three weeks, not good considering the bloody festival hasn't even begun...
 
After having managed to peel the substance abuse victims off of ourselves, we managed to make it to the camp-site for the processional tent-raising. Well, my contribution involved sitting on an upturned pot holding a torch, but you know, these things are better left to men...
 
Next day it was usual business, day drinking, wandering round, eating crap and exploring various  different tents. However, night-time comes and it was a decided trek down to the mainstage. Frustratingly we only manage to catch the end of Foals.

But then, a long wait out for Pendulum who were definitely worth the wait. Just as I was getting into it, some ass-hole next to me starts throwing his little glow sticks around, a couple of which burst resulting in a large blob of glo-paint landing on my face causing an extreme burning sensation.

Thanks mate, I know you're probably off your cake and all but there's no need to start spraying everyone with toxic substances. Getting concerned my skin was starting to fall off, I was just about to push my way out of the crowd wen I  was saved by my previous sworn enemy - rain, whose showers washed all painful residue away.

Burning face cured we danced our way through the rest of the set.
 
Next day and round two of day drinking. By this point I had ditched the beer and reached the height of classiness, glugging down can after can of pre-mixed tesco G and T. No improvement in weather, only more grey skies and rain.
 
That night we thought we would return to the mainstage to see if Amy Winehouse would actually make it through the set or collapse in a heap on the stage floor. She managed some effort, but after about half an hour mumbled a few words and stumbled off amid a chorus of boos. I was relieved. Enough with the train wreck please.

The rest of the evening was involved random stumbling in and out of tents. At some early hours of the morning there was a large swarm towards one of the tents to see Sugar Hill Gang. Not fancying being crushed to bits by a drunken crowd we took a wander round to a tent called Club Dada.

At the back of the crowd I could make out some red haired woman on this tiny stage - she I was later was to discover was Florence and The Machine. She was singing You've Got The Love just as we walked in. Whilst it may be a tedious over-played track now, at the time I was convinced that her rendition was the best thing I had ever heard. The atmosphere in the tent was so chilled out and relaxed, everyone taking a moment to awe at her incredible voice.
 
Sunday night arrives and we are officially done with the mainstage, its time to get to the good stuff. First stop - Bollywood Bar, for a quick breaks fix. After some aggressive elbowing we managed to find a small corner to dance in.

However, fearing death by asphyxiation, we chicken out and leave, not bothering to stick around for organiser Rob Da Banks set. cba with that, we were in desperate need of air that had not been previously recycled by through 50 people..
 
Next Morning and time to hit the road. We didn't waste any time getting the hell out of the festival site which now looked like a bomb had exploded at a dumping ground. The hangover naturally made everything worse, and I was in the foulest mood, moaning about anything I could possibly think of, much to the joy of everyone else.

I literally felt as if I had taken a bath in a pig sty and had mud encrusted in places I didn't even know existed. My hair was in such a state I thought I would have to shave it off as it would never recover. My mind wandered to laughing gas girl, she probably looked like Cheryl Cole in comparison to the state I was in.
 
One word to sum up my bestival experience. Random. In every sense. Random in the sense that you wake up in the morning to some grown man next you getting into a life sized octopus costume, and random in the sense that we didn't have a plan and literally just wondered about anywhere and everywhere in search of something good.