My eyes were stapled open by the time I arrived back in this place on Sunday, after driving for about 6 hours.

For the first time in an age, I encountered a hitch hiker, and would have given him and his large knife a lift, if it wasn’t for the fact that I was going in exactly the opposite direction. As it was, I had to make do with my own company.

It was strange on the way down. I called in to see a friend in Bristol, and discovered by chance that she lives about 200 yards from a house I stayed in, in 1991, before and after my first Glastonbury. The occupant who I knew hasn’t spoken to me for about 8 years, for reasons I never found out, and I decided that turning up unannounced could then warrent a call from the police (as, I suppose, would wishing a happy birthday in a couple of weeks). A shame, but even though you can recognise the waste, you have to move on. I’d got lost trying to find where I was going, and found myself outside a pub that I remembered from back then.

The week itself was a challenge, but was fun. We had a great team, and a great laugh, and I’ll see them all again.

But the 6 hour drive back was tiring. When I got back I wrote a blog entry (2004-03-01) and tried to watch the Oscars. I was too tired, and eventually went to sleep.

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