Remarkably good hot chocolate and ska in a red and blue stripey tent. We like tents. It doesn't rain in them. Mostly.

Lying flat on my back in a field, listening through headphones to what appears to be an avant garde audiotour of Zurich.

Familiar morning sounds. Persistent pattering on the tent roof. Feedback, rumbles and thumps from a soundcheck.

"You can take drugs if you want but I'm taking a rain... Check me out."

A smartly uniformed marching band just passed, playing Seven Nation Army on kazoos.

"We've been up here so long, forget all we used to know."

Sitting in a wrecked plane, surrounded by people with stick-on moustaches. Pyrotechnic shows rarely involve full nudity.

"Eleven conversations standing in the rain"

100 candles lighting a guy on stage mixing samples. Fires. Stalls. People. Cooking smells. Flags. Hello Glasto.

Last year was the first time I'd been to Glastonbury, and the entire festival left me completely awed. I was a little concerned that this year it would lose the magic, and be as it was last year but with different bands. It'd still be good, but would effectively be "more of the same".

Er, no.

( Yes please, Elizabeth, I'd like to hear at mind-numbing length about your trip to Glastonbury )