A cooler morning on Sunday meant everybody got a bit more sleep and, even better, the showers had been switched back on (even if they were cold). There was a sense of hazy positivity in the air, on a sunny day with arguably the meatiest line-up of the weekend.
Yes, the end was in sight, but as Christine and the Queens pointed out while headlining the Other Stage, it was also our last opportunity to “sweat it out”. Word on the site was that, since the first festival in 1970, there have only been eight Glastonburys where no rain has fallen – and this would be the ninth. Hot, yes, but golden. Here’s what we saw on Sunday.
1. Love is literally in the air
Proposals (and even weddings) happen all the time at Glastonbury, where everyone is approximately eight per cent more loved up than in real life. But usually such moments unfold in quiet, private moments (or as quiet as standing in front of the Glastonbury sign) would be.
Not so for Joe, who had arranged for a plane to fly above the Pyramid Stage moments before Kylie came on, pulling a sign that read: “Sarah Adams Marry Me? Joe”. In hindsight, one wondered why he needed to clarify who he was, but maybe he had some extra space to fill up. Nevertheless, it was a charming moment. Here’s hoping she said yes. AV
2. Alex does Dave proud
Taking to Glastonbury’s second-biggest stage was clearly momentous for south London rapper Dave – but surely more so for Alex, the bucket-hatted fan who rapped the entirety of Thiago Silver to an uproarious crowd. His word-perfect rendition quickly drew heat from online naysayers, who were convinced he was a plant – but the Paris Saint Germain player after whom the song is named tweeted his support, while Dave asked Alex (or is that "Alex"?) to wait backstage until the set ended. Either way, a collaboration surely beckons. CL
3. If you're a Cure fan, they want Pictures of You
I particularly enjoyed watching the closing act from my vantage point behind three rabid Cure fans in giant black Goth wigs and Robert Smith lipstick, whose enjoyment of their hero's splendid set may have been slightly marred by the number of fellow revellers asking for selfies. NMC
4. Is that you, Barry?
It’s sometimes fun to play the game of wondering what certain Glastonbury revellers get up to in real life. Is that, for instance, Barry from accounts in the morph suit on top of the Beat Hotel platform? A similar invitation came near the loos between the Park and Arcadia, where a friendly-faced man had hoiked himself up on a pole to make the most of his enormous butterfly wings, which accompanied his navy hoodie beautifully. AV
5. Finding the most secret stage
The location of The Piano Bar changes every year. Most people never find it – in fact it is so rare to speak to someone who has that the bar is often dismissed as a rumour. On the final night of Glastonbury however, a serendipitous midnight rendez-vous at the Stone Circle led us to a tiny path up a wood. A man selling "goblin sausages" and sweet apple cider confirmed the destination was close, and within the hour, chancers were ushered into a cavernous, muddy underground hole with tiered rows of wooden benching and a tiny stage warmed by candlelight. A mother and son performed a sweet double bass duet, while a cheeky chappy introduced Prince and Bob Dylan with rousingly flippant impersonations on his guitar. Sing-alongs and Irish dancing continued early into the morning, and apparently, come dawn, this mythical bunker becomes one Glastonbury’s wildest hell raisers. EH
6. Partying like it's 1969
On a final wander around the site after 1am, I was lured into a small bar by the sound of blazing Nuggets-style garage blues rock. It turned out to be a fierce four-piece band of young men and women in orange overalls called the Kartoons, partying like it was 1969. They kept a packed bar on a Glastonbury high and even earned an encore that saw their half-naked singer crowdsurfing to the climax. Forget the headliners, that's what Glastonbury is really about. NMC
7. A pre-dawn chorus at the Pussy Parlour
It may, technically, have been Monday morning by this point, but that didn’t stop some from going to church. Wandering through Silver Hayes I stumbled across House Gospel Choir’s set at the heavily swagged Pussy Parlour. In their own words, they “do a bit of house, we do a bit of gospel, and a lot of choir”. It was like Pitch Perfect, but in Somerset, with an MC, club beats, and a fine coating of dust. AV
8. Learning to funk it up at the palace
It’s fair to say that we made the most of Funkingham Palace, the new dimension to the Rabbit Hole. By the end of the weekend, I only needed to type two letters for the bizarre portmanteau to be suggested by autocorrect. JH
9. Finally getting clean
It's been a hot, sweaty weekend, and it wasn't ideal to find out they'd turned the showers off on Friday to preserve drinking water. But returning to my tent in the wee small hours of Monday morning, what an utter delight to discover the showers were back on, with hot running water and no queues. Sometimes it really is all about the simple pleasures. NMC