BLOG: Reading Festival - Monday

Here is the final part of our reporter Laura Enfield's Reading Festival blog....

Exodus. Movement of the people.

Today the great unwashed heaved themselves up from their beds and began the long and grudging journey home.

Despite feeling dirty, tired and undernourished the thought of leaving my little patch of field filled me with dread. Going home meant unpacking, washing, preparing for work and other such dull tasks and I just wasn't ready to be a proper person again.

In contrast many people were happy to leave all memories of the festival behind and we crawled out of bed to find a sea of abandoned paraphernalia, including rubbish, shoes, a stereo and lots of tents. To get all serious for a second, it's a shameful testament to our laziness and throw away attitude.

We carefully packed up everything but apart from a quick splash of the face and swipe with a tooth brush we didn't even bother with washing. Then we hoisted our packs on our backs and trundled off.

Back out on the street and in the real world once again, we faced one of life's most mundane problems- traffic.

Fortunately we had cunningly parked at my grandma's flat. However this did mean a 30 minutes walk with the weight of a baby elephant on our backs. How can a few items of clothing weigh so much? I blame the wellies!

Our mission for the rest of the day was to aim straight for the pub and gorge ourselves on a three course feast and then home to lie like vegetables until bed time.When we would dream about grown men dressed as smurfs, dancing to The Ting Tings and all the other marvellous, wonderful, crazy, beautiful things that make Reading Festival rock!