Robin Fox

My first years at the festival were as a young 90s raver. Hitching rides and jumping trains were always the start of the adventures, meeting new friends along the way. Often I traveled with just the clothes on my back and the freedom of an open mind that allowed the mischievous hands of Glastonbury festival to lead me astray, very astray. I loved it.

Finding out the best place to get in through the fence was done tactfully and quickly. Sometimes you could just walk straight in but most years it was a scaling affair. The first 6ft fence was usually easy but one year, after consuming a bottle of Malibu in a car, I drunkenly launched myself and a carrier bag full of cans onto its spikes spraying larger everywhere. The second fence was always more daunting but the adrenaline was on full power by then.

It was almost a joy to be met by the many gangs awaiting our landing on the other side with their squidgy black hash (that was literally mud they had collected from the ground) The pills and powders, umbrellas for a tenner and no doubt some poor victim getting robbed the very moment they arrived.

Glastonbury often had a medieval feel to it. The mud fights, the mayhem, the magic, the revelling freedom and let's not forget the romance, fuelled by intoxication, euphoria and natural endorphins.

In the early 2000's performing as a Magician and Circus performer was a different vibe. On site parking, performers camping with hot showers, clean loos, our own catering and my photo in the program. I relished in the ability to venture out into the crowds and loose myself in the eye of the tornado and then flash my pass at the heavenly gates to escape back into the secret world behind the fence where all the loos all had paper with no fear of interruption!

My last visit in 2007 was not as a performer but as a guest of a well known actress.

We had barley stepped in through the gates when a photographer asked if he could take a photo of us. Perhaps he recognised her but it could have been my rather outstanding wardrobe ensemble consisting of a bright yellow fisherman’s outfit and top hat wrapped in a Mole Valley carrier bag that attracted his attention.Whatever it was he snapped away as did many people on our magical wanderings. The next day I awoke and switched on my phone, it went berserk with a flood of texts... we were front page news. TV, Nationals, all over the place.

My outfit, in preparation for one of the muddiest festivals on record, had clearly sparked the media's interest. Well, that and the company of a wonderful actress.