The Ned Wood Archive

Headless guru in the night, show me what you mean

Kula Shaker, 1996

Joe

“See you on the other side.”

Joe watches as Tom walks away across the field.  Then, with an exaggerated shrug of his shoulders, repositions the rucksack on his back and heads off in the opposite direction.  It’s dark, the middle of the night, but there are a few lights here and there, most of the tracks are obvious, and, anyway, he knows this route well enough.

Just like at school, he’s thinking to himself, more out of amusement than frustration or anger.  Just like at home.  It was always Tom running the show.  Always Tom off in the lead, telling him what to do.  And now Joe’s laughing at himself for falling back into the old ways.  Like when you visit the old dears and act like you’re 14 again.  And Joe, years out of Uni and with a pretty good job, even if he does say so himself, is still the younger brother.  Still letting Tom take control.

Tom had come up from Brighton on the train that afternoon.  They’d met up after Joe finished work and spent the evening at Joe’s Islington flat catching up while Joe packed.  At midnight, they’d headed out across London, up and down the Westway, in and out the lights, aiming for the open road and the great south west.  Moving down the road to the 303.  The tide of excitement building in waves: rising as they discussed the days ahead or passed familiar landmarks, falling off when the conversation dropped or Joe had to turn his mind to focus on the route and the tasks ahead, raising again as they got closer and closer to the destination.  

It’s still dark and there’s a gentle rain falling.  Joe’s not bothered by a little shower.  He’s prepared in case it gets any worse. He can pull on his waterproofs should it get heavier, but he’d rather not take off the backpack to get them just yet.  It’s less than a mile from the car to the gate and then he can take a break.  A four hour break in fact.  He’s got all the time in the world, but he’s still yomping because that’s what he prefers.  Maybe if the sky was lighter, if it was the break of dawn already, then maybe he’d take his time and pay attention to the scenery. 

There’s a small crowd in front of him when he gets to Ped Gate B.  Not too many – it only really starts to build up when the early risers arrive. Now it’s just the all night stop outs like him and Tom.  Some folk have been there since early evening on the Tuesday.  Neither Joe nor Tom think it’s worth it.  Most of these folk are aiming for Big Ground or Kidney Mead.  They want to set up facing the Pyramid Stage like that Pilton Parlour or whatever it was called that had a line of armchairs set up on Row Mead before they stopped the camping there when the Stones played.  Joe and Tom are aiming for Pennard Hill.  Another quick hike after they get through the gates and they’ll have plenty of spots to choose from.

Joe pings a quick WhatsApp off to Tom to let him know the number of people in the queue in front of him because he knows Tom will be fretting about it.  Tom’s got a bit further to walk before he hits Ped Gate C, so Joe doesn’t expect a response for another five or ten minutes, even though Tom yomps even faster than he does.  Sometimes the gates open on time, sometimes one of them’ll open early.  Tom always likes to back a couple of horses since that time he managed to get in through Ped Gate C a whole hour before anyone from Ped Gate B or anywhere else.  That’s why they split up when they arrive.  It’s Tom’s strategy.  Worth it for any marginal gain.  Tom says.  Joe ain’t so sure.

Sure enough he gets a response from Tom.  Plus full instructions (again) for laying out the camp site should Joe happen to get to Pennard Hill before Tom.  He never does, but Tom’s not taking any chances.  Joe smiles to himself.  Tom’ll never change.  That message out of the way, Joe settles down for a couple hours shut eye.  It’s pretty quiet in the queue.  He’s exchanged a word or two with the folk already there, but they are all in that semi hibernation state that you get when you’re waiting.  Like at airports or railway stations.  Suspended animation.  The excitement will return pretty soon.