Festivals and alcohol had always seemed synonymous to me. But a downward spiral prompted me to attempt one sober. It was a revelation, albeit not an easy oneTwenty years ago this August, I went to my first music festival. My best friend’s mum kindly – bravely – drove us two 15-year-olds from Cornwall to Reading and supervised from a distance while we queued at the signing tent to meet Goldie Lookin’ Chain, Razorlight and the Hives, joined in the euphoric yells of “bollocks!” that swept across... Read this story
