Welcome to the Isle of Avalon.
In June, after every, nearly yearly Glastonbury festival, hundreds of tired, muddied and substance-modified teenagers appear on the benches of Glastonbury high street, wearing their festival hats, ready for the next open-ended summer adventure.
Meanwhile, the Glastafarians, with their non-festival hats, sit sagely outside the many cafés, talking about energy, organic food and UFOs, living the dream. Watching them from a distance, as they sip on herbal tea and chain-smoke cigarettes, their lives look perfect. Continue reading “Glastonbury and the Glastafarians”