Why it’s OK to have a shit time at a festival

"OMG! Had the best time ever at..."

We've all seen it. The emoji-riddled social media post gushing over a festival, all the amazing people that were there and how much every single DJ smashed it. Let's be honest, most of us have written it at least once after we've returned home, feeling like a lizard following a week getting smashed in a field or sun-drenched beachside resort.

People love to make everyone - from mates and siblings to that one-time love interest they pulled at Liquid's under-18 night back in the day - aware of how much of a ten-out-of-ten time they've had. But does everyone really, really mean it?

It's totally understandable why people want a festival to be everything they hoped for. They cost a shit load of money and gallons of energy goes into saving the dosh for a ticket, travel, accommodation, (usually overpriced) booze and food and all the other 'extras' needed.

For many, that means clocking up minimum wage overtime at the local supermarket or boozer, getting up early on Saturday and Sunday to do so and probably sacking off countless Friday nights' worth of clubbing so you're not totally ruined to manage that shift hangover-free. And unless mummy and daddy are slipping you £50-a-week for no reason whatsoever, that flight and four-star hotel on the Spanish coast are going to have to be put on hold until next year.

With all this in mind, you'll look like a complete tool after those "YAY, Glasto here we come!" statuses if you admit the festival turned out to be a money-wasting shitter.

It's time to accept that not all festivals are the bundle of euphoria the aftermovies make them out to be. For a start, there's the moment when you erect a Bambi-legged Tesco gazebo to shelter you from torrential rain and your Strongbow-guzzling 'mate' (fuming at being sold a Pro Plus thinking it was ecstasy) decides to take his anger out on the one thing keeping you dry. Or the seemingly never-ending 'why-the-fuck-am-I-seeing-gargoyles?' acid trip. Or the military water cannon-like shit explosion giving you a full-body makeover.

We're not making these case studies up, either. Just type "dance tent poo" into Google and, if you don't already, you'll find all you need to know about the 1998 Glastonbury 'poonami'.

Then there's the danger of weak, airy soundsystems (which sometimes get cut off because of storms), your favourite DJ dropping clanger after clanger 'cos they're way too fucked, your phone and wallet being pinched from that not-so-secret sleeping bag pocket of yours, hours spent looking after your wobbly pal who's mistaken Snoop Dogg for Katy B and dreaming about drowning, only to wake up in an actual pool of water. Again, we're not making any of this up.

All these stories are funny on recollection, yes, but not so morale-boosting and life-enhancing at the time.

We're not saying all festivals disappoint – far from it. There are plenty out there, all over the world, that provide the music heaven we're all searching for and there will be heaps more popping up in locations you never knew existed. But here's our advice to you: it's OK to admit you had a rubbish time. Besides, if it's likes, retweets or that little, orange Instagram notification you're after, all you've got to do is post a pic of yourself covered in shit because the portaloo fell over while you were curling one out. Turn the crushing disappointment (and an early trip home) to your advantage.

Once you've realised that you can't win them all, there's a long road of progression to undertake. Follow the correct signs, take criticism of events into consideration and you and your pals can work on unearthing a festival gem next time round. Just make sure your status bigging it up isn't a carbon copy of everyone else's.

[Illustration: Alex Jenkins]