After waiting for three hours at the Bus station entrance with a Scouser named Sarah, who incidently lost her ticket when her mate turned up and ended up buying one for 100 quid, I was located by Stu and Andy, both sporting nice red eyes after smoking themselves to death in the traffic jams. The weekend had landed, and unlike Glastonbury, the land was dry...
The sun scorched the place, and lazing around with a quarter and bottles of water, watching piss ed's get slaughtered, it occurred to us that to last, drinking was not the wisest thing to do. We needed a 'pick me up'. Despite the police presence, we managed to find a freindly helper in the Strongbow dance tent, where some serious sweaty stomping was going on. We took some time in there to get UP for the prodigy gig. Hot, high and ready to forfill my ambition to see the prodigy, we drifted across to the Channel 4 stage. What can I say, picture an outdoor club, the lazers, the erie sounds of Keiths voice shouting "Fuck em and their law". They were the best act ive seen all year.
Now, the V festival has a distinct and serious problem... the fact that everything closes at 11. For al the people who are buzzing their tits off, the fair ground sems to be the draw, anything to satisfy the need for a buzz in the early hours. Antoher attraction was the laughing gas. At 2 pound a pop, the sellers are laughing as well as the punters. Not expecting anything to happen on top of the substances already consumed, I pumped the balloon like a lung...waited... the music from a distant fair ground ride seemed to amplify, intense ringing in my head. Stus voice seemed to echo into the night, and in 20 seconds it was gone, and I was back in the Queue for another.
After chillin back at th4e tent till the early hours with some randoms we hit the sack, its suprising how comfortable some pants in a plastic bag can be as a pillow.
Sunday involved shade and some awsome bands, GLC were outrageous as always, Jet drew a crowd but offered nothing new in terms of material really. The guy from good Charlotte used the words UK and England interchangably, making me wonder whether he even knew the difference.
The blue sky continued to drift overhead...ahhhhh.
Sunday night...right, back in the Strongbow tent for a repeat purchase in time for the Chems...
Success, joy, much dancing and celebration of the end of a fuckin awsome weekend. We needed somewhere else to go though, and bumped into some guys from New Zealand who were complete hedonists, sucking down gas, sniffing poppers like vix, smoking like howard Marks. They refused to leave the dodgems and stayed on for about half an hour, until the northern pikies gathered a crew and we did the off. There was a tent called MASHED, which was near the entrance to the arena, which was pumping out the Dre 2001 album. We homed in like music hungry missiles and bopped with the 30 strong crowd. Within an hour or two at least 50-60 people had gathered, and the prodigys' Music for the Gilted... had been wacked on... in the rain, at a stall selling shirts and bags and shit...the festival culminated in those euphoric sounds. People were too desperate for music though cause when the 8 foot monster that we coined Mungo (Candy gram for Mungo) came over and ruined the fun, some pissed twat decided he could sing, and the climax of Hey Jude continued for about half an hour through a mega phone.
Overall, we made the most of it. Glasontbury rained, we got washed out, and had a blinding time, I think that V would never endure such weather, and the sun, and the Prodigy saved its ass....

Couldn't agree more about The Prodigy! I was in Chelmsford (in the rain) and they were the last act of the weekend... I have never seen them play so hard - awesome!