When I applied to volunteer at V Festival, I had no idea what to expect other than me crying my eyes out every night stuck in a tent in a field in Chelmsford counting down the hours until rather Pink came on or I could go home. It turned out to be the best week of my life. With hundreds of 18-24s sharing a compound, my week was filled with drinking overpriced alcohol (£22 for a bottle of Echo Falls!!), dancing at the barrier to the best music and, well, tent-hopping. Here’s what I learnt:
Tents Are Never As Soundproof As You Think: Now I’m not expecting an anechoic chamber, I know that there’s going to be a fair amount of noise escaping through that ridiculously slim canvas sheet over my head, but it wasn’t until I could hear the girl in the tent next to me breathing in her sleep that I realised the true lack of privacy. Especially when you forget to zip up the door. No wonder my neighbours didn’t say hello to me the next morning.
It Will Be Uncomfortable At Times: You’re rather trying to evenly distribute your weight on an airbed to stop the other being flung off or are on the floor with only a groundsheet between your aching back and the freezing cold, dewed-up grass, it’s hardly going to be footage for the next Fifty Shades film, you just have to (literally) roll with it and try and use him as a chair as much as possible. Continue reading