These people broke into Glastonbury last minute and their stories are wild
Don’t try this at home
Breaking into Glasto is like breaking out of prison, but harder. Few people are brave enough to try and undertake this near impossible task, and you can understand why. The massive site is flanked by a 15 foot super fence, a second seven foot inner fence and patrolled by hundreds of trained security guards. And successful Glastonbury break in stories are very rare.
But every year, many stupid and courageous youths still try. It is the vibiest place in the world, after all. Everyone is cool af, it's way less tame than other festivals and it's a chance to get totally spangled.
With tickets over 200 quid, it makes sense that you'd wanna try and get in for free. And sometimes, just sometimes, someone makes it through. We had a chance to talk to three of these lucky individuals and some of their stories are absolutely wild.
'I pretended to be my mate, made a joke about being four years old and got in'
Alex Coupe, break in year: 2014 and 2015
We were having a BBQ on Glastonbury Tor and then decided to attempt the infamous Glasto break in. We walked for ages and were literally hiding in hedges from absolutely nobody. When we got to the car park we legit thought we’d made it. None of us had been to Glasto before so we had no idea that by the time you entered the car park you have literally passed zero security measures.
We ended up in staff camping and staggered around this area until we heard the buzzing and beeping of walky talkies and clocked a security office. My mate Andy tried to sweet talk security into thinking we were lost, to no avail. Better luck next year.
The following year, we were slightly more successful. We got to the car park and were met with a nine foot fence, but there was a hole dug out like a trench underneath. We crawled through, headed into the nearest portaloos we could find and banged on some high vis jackets we bought on eBay. We really thought we were in.
Then we saw the infamous super-fence. And it’s massive. Like fucking massive. As we were waiting, planning our route in, we crossed paths with our old English teacher. This for some reason gave us the confidence to try and scale the super-fence. After some very shit wall climbing attempts, we eventually gave up and turned back.
A day later I was on Facebook and saw that a mate had got ill and needed to sell his tickets. Even though tickets literally have photo ID I was so desperate, especially because the girl I fancied was already there, so I bought it. I got to Glasto, put on a pair of sunglasses and a baseball cap, handed over my ticket, made a little quip about only being four years old (he was born on a leap year) and walked straight in. Excellent.
'I got a lift in a van with the eviction team'
Marieca Pegg, break in year: 2016
I decided I wanted to go Glasto 2016 (my first time) very last minute. I would describe my state of mind as extremely desperate. I’d spent weeks campaigning to get myself in and I wasn’t leaving without a fight. The FOMO was just too much. I managed to sort a walk in the week before, despite being wary of how unreliable they could be. I’d had friends who had waited hours for theirs – or worse – they just never turned up. Nonetheless I had a guy, and he told me to meet him at Gate E.
My five hour journey to Glasto very inconveniently left me at the opposite end of the festival (I was at the John Peel end but I wanted to be at Pennard Hill end). I was alone, all my friends were inside and had arrived a few hours earlier. Eager to get seshing ASAP, I started my 40 minute hiking commute, enduring the weight of my human-sized backpack. It was raining, and extremely muddy.
I was undoubtedly struggling, and it must have really shown on my face, because within ten minutes of setting off a minibus that had been driving next to me for a while pulled over. It was a black minibus with tinted windows and there were five security men inside. One popped his head out and asked me if I was ok. I said “not really” which was true and they asked me where I was going. I lied and said I was a dancer who was due to perform on Saturday and I was meeting a friend with my artist pass at Gate E.
They kindly offered me a lift, telling me they were heading past there anyway, so I got in the back. They seemed legit, and, as I would soon realise from the frantic conversations on their walkie talkies, they were the official Glastonbury eviction team. The people who are literally employed to chuck people like me out. They were lovely, and grilled me about why I didn’t have a ticket a lot, but I managed to keep up the lie. To say it was a tense journey would be a massive understatement.
I could see they were driving through the festival rather than around it, so, feeling brave, I assured them I had signal on my phone to find my friend, and asked if it would be okay for me to just jump out. “Look guys, I know you’re on shift, and you must have loads to do, but thank you so much” were my exact words.
I looked out the window and I was, no joke, in front of the Pyramid Stage. I calmly climbed out, thanked them again, and pretty much sprinted to find my friends, as far away from them as possible. I was in shock. But I was in and that’s all that mattered.
'We successfully scaled the impossible Glasto super-fence'
Fabian Johnson, break in year: 2014
That year, I bought a ladder and a map and headed to Glastonbury with a plan. I picked up my mate, drove to the festival site and started out on foot to VIP camping because it was rumoured to be easier to breach than others.
We scaled a small fence and were immediately spotted by security, who innocently thought we were just on the way to get our wristbands. They escorted us to the entrance to get said wristbands, taking us back to square one.
Eventually, while looking for more areas to breach the fence, we met the most incredible gentleman. High as a kite, he had apparently broken in and out of the festival site three times already in that day. He pointed us to an area of the wall which was in a blind spot, hidden from the watch towers. With nothing left to lose, we attempted the ascent.
Security clocked us as we were half way up the mega fence, but we had committed to the climb by then. We kept climbing, faster now because of the impending threat behind us, reached the top and then clamber down using the support beams as rungs.
We ran for the second fence, wary of the threat from behind. It collapsed under the weight of us but it didn't matter: we were in. I made it to a camping area and befriended some campers who let me change my clothes in their campsite. Eventually I made it to my friends' campsite and was met with a spliff, a G&T and a nos balloon. It was 4.30am on a Saturday, and I just broke into Glastonbury.