What do they say about giving a guy a soap box?

Were not sure but to find out we've given tom a festival blog all to himself. In between his telegraph blogs - stardom beckons - Tom Chivers will be sharing his thoughts on Glastonbury 2008, Read on...

Friday 27th

Obviously, it was never going to go smoothly.

Travelling here was all going so well. We hired a car, without anyone noticing that I haven’t sat behind the wheel in four years, and managed to drive all the way to Shepton Mallet – wherever the hell that is; somewhere rural, I gather – without running out of petrol, ploughing headlong through a family of four in a Vauxhall Nova, or exploding in a giant ball of flame.

But some genius had decided to set fire to a pile of tyres in a scrapyard next to Glastonbury, shutting down half the local roads and one of the entrances to the site, so we ended up in a giant tailback for three hours within two miles of our destination.

Still, all’s well as ends well, and miraculously we are now wrapped in Glastonbury’s muddy embrace. Last night was an opportunity to take stock of our surroundings, familiarise ourselves with the lineup, and drink enough cider to kill a dugong. So we did that.

Aside from the drunken antics – I am almost sure I sang a karaoke version of 500 Miles to an audience of baying Scotsmen; I may even have been doing the accent – the plan went well. Aside from the performers we knew were on, we have found a couple of late surprises – the inimitable Jim Jeffries is here, sure to offend and amuse in equal measure, as is the lovely Arthur Smith And Friends. Both of those are on today, so hopefully we will be able to update later on.

Mud situation: so far – and just typing these words is making me glance fearfully upwards – the weather isn’t too bad. A few nimby-pimby lightweights are complaining about the drizzle, but by the standards of years gone by it’s a tropical paradise. I’m not even in my wellies yet. Long may it continue.

Tom