28 challenges EVERY festival goer will understand (but they definitely won't stop us going back)

The rainclouds are overhead and all the camping shops in Britain have sold out of wellies: festival season is upon us.

If you’re lucky enough to have nabbed a ticket to one of these deliciously rambunctious musical extravaganzas, you’re in for a treat.  

There is nothing quite like a festival to make you whirl like a Dervish with a lunatic grin on your face, day and night, for an average of 96 hours. Heaven. Or is it?

The British festival season is one of the best in the world... but it has its own unique challenges 

The British festival season is one of the best in the world... but it has its own unique challenges 

If you’re lucky enough to have nabbed a ticket to one of these deliciously rambunctious musical extravaganzas, you’re in for a treat

If you’re lucky enough to have nabbed a ticket to one of these deliciously rambunctious musical extravaganzas, you’re in for a treat

Smirnoff loves a music festival. Social class gets thrown out the window, everyone’s on the same level with one common goal; to just have an epic time no matter what they look (or smell!) like. 

But anyone who has ever faceplanted in mud, had six pints of beer rain down upon their only dry clothes, lost all their friends at midnight some six miles from their tent or had their wallet eaten by a pink sheep will know there is a darker side to festivals, a side that will make you sigh, grimace, moan, despair, weep and want, for one brief nanosecond, to give up (before you pull yourself together and trot off to see another epic band).

Here are 33 challenges every festivalgoer will understand:

No really, I'm fine... Carrying all your worldly goods on your back is all part of the festival fun 

No really, I'm fine... Carrying all your worldly goods on your back is all part of the festival fun 

You don't know packed until you have taken the train to a festival

You don't know packed until you have taken the train to a festival

1. Getting there

Whether you’re training it , cycling, driving to V or being choppered (you lucky so-and-so), the race to beat 174,000 other ticketholders is ON.

The traffic will be dire, the trains will be so packed your feet won’t touch the ground, and you will end up cursing at the back of someone's head as their giant backpack forces you up against the loo for the entire journey.

If you do ever arrive you’ll queue for at least four hours, probably in the rain, carrying all your worldly goods, before being ushered through the gates. Bring a banana.

2. Finding somewhere to pitch the tent

RUN! RUN! RUN! When the gates open people scatter like marbles across a dining table in effort to find the perfect pitching ground. People will attempt to shotgun half an acre for their mates. Turn up to a festival late and you risk camping on a right-angled hill, underneath the main stage speakers, directly opposite – and downwind from – the busiest loo on the site. Give up now. All is lost. Do not pass GO, do not collect £200.

3. The rain

Three things are certain in life: death, taxes, and rain at festivals. Ensure you have wellies, a waterproof jacket and the constitution of an ox. 

Do yoga for six months before attending a festival – if it rains (it will) you won’t be sitting down for four days; strong quads are even more essential than aforementioned wellies.

Rain essentials for a festival: Wellies, a waterproof jacket and the constitution of an ox

Rain essentials for a festival: Wellies, a waterproof jacket and the constitution of an ox

A little drizzle - or thunderous downpour - never ever halts the fun though 

A little drizzle - or thunderous downpour - never ever halts the fun though 

4. The sun

We pray for sun at festivals, but when it arrives our namby-pamby British bodies can’t take it. We burn, we hunt for shade like lions in the Serengeti, we get dust in our eyes, we sweat and we stink. It’s enough to make you pray for thunder. 

Dancing on my own! This lady seems pretty carefree about having lost her mates 

Dancing on my own! This lady seems pretty carefree about having lost her mates 

5. Losing all your mates

You check the programme to see when Clean Bandit is hitting the MTV Stage and when you look up you are entirely alone. Well, there are 50,000 people surrounding you, but you don’t recognise any of them. 

You carefully retrace your steps to 42m south of the stage AS YOU’RE FACING IT, 16 flags deep, behind the man dressed as a robotic emu and just in front of the woman carrying her filthy infant triplets in a wheelbarrow. You pivot. You widen the circle. You give up. 

Lost your mates? Make new ones! 

Lost your mates? Make new ones! 

You decide to become friends with the emu man. His name is Bob. He shares his drinks with you. You like Bob. 

6. Finding your old mates

Just as you are growing fond of Bob, your old mates turn up. But they don’t think much of Bob. Now Bob must go. Bye, Bob. You miss Bob. 

You watch Calvin Harris and remember all Bob’s great Calvin Harris Jokes. You wonder what happened to Bob.

7. The toilets

Oy vey. Bring a clothes peg, don’t touch the seat, and pray you don’t get locked into a really bad one. 

Also pray you don’t get ill at any point over the next four days; the only thing worse than squatting over a festival long-drop is staring into its hellish abyss of doom. BE CAREFUL NOT TO DROP YOUR MOBILE OR YOUR BABY INTO IT.

8. Wetting yourself is a real possibility

Whether because you’re laughing so hard, you can’t get your tent unzipped in the dead of night in time, or you’re simply too traumatised from your last visit to the toilets – the chances of an accident at a festival are higher than they have been since you were a toddler. Pack spare pants.

9. Your phone battery dies…

It happens on Day One, Hour One. Your friends vanish. The queue for the recharging tent is longer than the M1. There is only one thing to do: find Bob.

10. …and then you lose your phone…

Make peace with this, that baby’s gone for good.

11. …and then you lose your mind

Nobody can survive on this little sleep and this much mud for four days – eventually you are going to crack. Embrace it.

That awkward moment when you see someone you work with.... shirtless and dancing like a loon 

That awkward moment when you see someone you work with.... shirtless and dancing like a loon 

12. You bump into someone you work with

Bumping into a colleague at a festival is like bumping into your granny on a first date. Run the other way.

13. Performance clashes

You want to watch Paloma Faith, but your boyfriend wants to see Oliver Heldens in the Dance Tent. You argue for 45 minutes while Stereophonics play their entire set, and you missed both acts. *Slow clap.*

Jump around ... Just not on each other! Getting more squashed than the rush hour commuter train is all part of watching the acts at a festival 

Jump around ... Just not on each other! Getting more squashed than the rush hour commuter train is all part of watching the acts at a festival 

14. You get squashed in a mosh pit

You return from the bar carefully balancing six vodka-lemonades for your friends on your head and the DJ plays Jump Around. Everyone jumps around. So long, drinks. Adios, functioning ankles.

15. Finding your tent at the end of the night

Can you get tents fitted with iBeacons? Is that a thing?

16. Wet tents Vs. Hot tents

You’re either drowning in rainwater while you sleep or drowning in sweat while you sleep. Either way, bring a snorkel.

Um, which one was ours again? Can you get tents fitted with iBeacons? Is that a thing?

Um, which one was ours again? Can you get tents fitted with iBeacons? Is that a thing?

17. To brush your teeth or not to brush your teeth

The tap’s four fields away and you’ve been dancing for 16 hours. You’re totally cream-crackered. One word: mouthwash.

18. Someone in the tent next to you thinks they’re Bob Dylan, All NIGHT LONG

How many years in jail do you get for smashing an acoustic guitar into smithereens?

19. Desperate 5am thirst

Which is the water bottle full of water and which is the water bottle full of vodka? You'll definitely want to double check before you take a sip!

20. You smell like a decomposing squirrel

Luckily, so does everyone else. Enjoy!

Few things are as depressing (or disgusting) as a festival ground the day after it ends

Few things are as depressing (or disgusting) as a festival ground the day after it ends

21. You look like a decomposing squirrel

On Day Four you’re washing your hair with an old nubbin of Imperial Leather soap you found by a bin. Don’t worry; we’ve all been there. It’s character building.

22. You haven’t slept since Tuesday

You’re talking to trees and hugging strangers. Then you realise the strangers are also trees. It’s time to go home.

23. Packing up on Monday morning

Pop two Nurofen, stuff everything into a bag and run for the hills.

24. Locating your car

Can you get bumper packs of iBeacons?

25. The drive home

Silence. Whimpers. Stop at Tesco’s to pad around hopelessly looking for something to fill the feeling of despair. Leave empty-handed. Silence. Whimpers. Turn on the radio.

26. The total and complete exhaustion 

You are a broken shell of an individual and of no use to anyone, least of all yourself. For the sake of humanity I hope you took Monday off. Tuesday too. Heck, I hope you took the whole damn week off.

27. Bob adds you on Facebook

In the cold light of day you realise Bob is actually a total creep. Do not accept his friendship, internet-based or otherwise.

28. The desperate need to do it all again

*Gets on Whatsapp, rounds up friends, books tickets to the next one* 

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