Lucinda Bayley, 2017

My most solid memory from Glastonbury that year was actually tearing ligaments in my ankle very late one evening on the Friday night (post seeing Lorde perform) while navigating myself (very drunk) through a city of tents. I tripped on a tent peg, and went down like a sack of potatoes. I’m known for over-dramatising things when I’m drunk (and sober), so even though it hurt, I convinced myself I was just being a sook and making mountain out of a molehill as per usual. I went out for the rest of the night, danced on bars, and ran around on my ankle. Next morning, I woke to so much pain from my sleeping bag resting on my ankle, and looked down to see a monster of an ankle - who knew a high level sprain could be so painful?! I woke my boyfriend and asked him to walk me to the medic tent so we could get it strapped up, and we managed to catch the Bootleg Beatles on the way there, and despite my injury, I couldn’t help but have a little boogie. The next two days were certainly a struggle to hobble around, but nothing could stop me having the time of my life