Queue the music

On my way to work today, I was listening to the Beatles on my iPod and thinking of England's big match when... I discovered it was the day the gates open at the Glastonbury festival.

My already busy train was transformed into a moving branch of Millets, complete with tents, gigantic rucksacks, toilet rolls and, oddly, posh Marks and Spencer bags - leaving the carriage bulging at the seams. To me, sleek M&S and muddy Glastonbury don't make easy bedfellows.

People of a certain age tried to display their cool credentials by chatting to festival-goers about what made Glastonbury such a great event.

I could imagine the gum-chewing, tattoed kids thinking, "Because we can get away from you lot!"

I managed to lever myself out of the sardine can, only to discover a queue as long as a Slash guitar solo stretching all the way down the lengthy approach to Bristol Temple Meads station.

I know what you're thinking! Well, you're wrong. I'd actually have joined the queue if it hadn't been for likely loss of employment.

Grizzly Bear, Gang of Four, Rodrigo y Gabriela, Editors, The XX, Broken Social Scene, Laura Marling, Muse, Beach House and Femi Kuti are just a few of the reasons why.