It’s been called ‘the mother of all festivals’, ‘the world’s greatest festival’ and ‘fu**ing great’ but has the party come to an end? Has Glasto got too big for its wellies?

People are complaining there’s less space, less chilled out people, higher ticket prices, more police and more thieving nastiness. You could argue these changes have allowed it to become more inclusive, no longer the reserve of flower children and yoghurt weaving workshops: the Dance Village welcomes wreckheads from all over and the Park camping has added space and a more middle class feel.

The original ethos still seems to run through the organisation – money to Greenpeace and local charities, organisation by CND and Oxfam. It’s the things that are out of the organisers’ hands which mar the festival – hundreds of policemen toting hidden and not-so-hidden cameras, people arrested for smoking weed, yardie dealers fighting with scary scousers over the right to deal in the Stone Circle.

The biggest problem (other than the police) according to festival-goers seems to be the sheer bewildering size of the thing. A quick walk from the Dance Village to the Greenfields might take you 30 minutes. That’s if it’s dry and there’s no one else about. Getting to the acts you want to see becomes a chore, deciding who to see depends on where you’re stuck at the time and the feeling that you’re missing out on whatever you’ve sacrificed to see your mate’s favourite band nags at you.

So what’s the answer? A clamp-down on impolite drug dealers? A clamp down on intrusive police behaviour? A Gladiator-style playground for the above trouble-makers in an adjoining field? Let them get it out of their systems and then come back and enjoy themselves…? Cut the festival in half maybe? Impractical? Well, the solution seems to have created itself. Like mushrooms after rain little baby festies have been popping up all over. Now we choose from Bloom, BGG, Glade, Sunrise, Croissant Neuf, Kendall Calling, Shambala, Eddfest, Blue Rock, Farmageddon, Standon Calling, Rough Beats, Woodenstock and so on and on and on. Some are Glasto’s biological offspring (Glade and Croissant Neuf) but the rest have sprung up or expanded in response to the general antipathy, disappointment and exhaustion felt towards the Great Giant Glasto.

So instead of sad feelings for Glastos gone by or nostalgic for the good old days when it cost a pound to get in, you got free milk from the farm and you weren’t allowed anywhere near the site without 2 sheets of acid and a passed-out girlfriend I feel glad. I’m glad to have experienced the biggest green field music and performing arts festival in the world, glad so many people are still enjoying it and glad it has inspired so many more tiny festivals. Festivals where I can cross the site in 15 minutes, where I can find my friends if I’ve lost them, festivals which cost less, everyone is friendly and stress free (even stallholders!) and there are less in-your-face police vs dealers wars. So instead of being pissed off with the new Glasto how about going to a festival you’ve never heard of before, seeing some bands you’ve never seen before and hanging out with Glastonbury’s babies….

Rosie Gilliam