We got up on Tuesday 18th Aug at around 9am and I forced Tom to make us a packed lunch so that we wouldn't have to deviate from our main goal: getting to London in time to pick up our tickets and get in the queue for the fan club early entry. I would just like to say a public thank you now to Tom for absolutely humouring me and allowing me this indulgence, he was the best person to be with for those 7 1/2 hours of pure waiting. That's right people, we got to the front of the stage in the end after spending our time eating sandwiches and drinking coffee like nobody's business. By the time Gomez took to the stage I was practically hysterical with excitement and the desperate need to go to the loo. "You'll sweat it out eventually", those around me said. Little did I know.
I just need to take this moment to share with you our proximity to the stage and to the man in question, Eddie Vedder. It's taking a lot for me to not swear right now.Look at him, just look. I cannot even speak about the moment he first stepped on stage. Oh alright, I can. It was absolutely, completely, utterly, achingly amazing. I nearly threw up on the 6ft 8 guy standing solidly in front of me as they opened with a favourite from their first album, Release.
At this point I realised we were in for a good night as the crowd went as mad as I was feeling. I won't bore you with the details of every song they played (although I actually could if you wanted me to) but instead will fill you in on how the evening panned out.
As soon as they finished playing Release the band started playing Animal. This song is quite lively and after the mesmerising Release it kick-started the crowd into a huge frenzy. So huge in fact that my feet didn't touch the ground as I was thrown around in the pit with such ferocity that I didn't know what had hit me. I later realised it was the fat dude behind me, who continued to ram his massive frame into me at every opportunity, his sole goal apparently being to get as close to Eddie as I was. Maybe he was hungry. This wouldn't have been so bad if we weren't also being forced by thousands of people behind into the unforgiving metal barrier as they desperately tried to get to the front too. And all this despite the band's blessed attempt to give us all a break by enchanting the crowd into taking 3 steps back. This mild reprieve was totally undone with the next song's introduction, at which point I lost Tom.
You would be forgiven at this stage for questioning my reasoning to get to the front in the first place, as the pain - and there was definitely pain - would surely not be worth it. But then you must understand that having only seen my favourite band once before in my life, I was not going to let any opportunity to be close up slip through my fingers. Anyway, I digress. After realising that I had lost Tom a tiny little panic started to well up inside me, as if just having him next to me somehow kept me safe from harm. I was also sweating so much that the little wee I needed earlier was now non-existent and my main priority was more of the ability to continue breathing. Catching Tom's eye as he drifted further away was my main priority over the next few songs and it became clear that enjoyment had suddenly moved down the agenda to be replaced by self-preservation.
After a few more 'fast paced' songs I realised things were unlikely to ease up, and having made a silent agreement to Tom I decided enough was enough. At the next break in the song I made my escape and bellowed, "Someone get me out, I wanna get out!". Amazingly the crowd parted and I was hauled over the barrier by some burly security men and escorted out, only to be handed over to another security dude who scribbled a black mark on my hand in marker pen for apparently 'crowd surfing'. At this time I started to wonder how the hell I would find Tom again when he magically appeared next to me, having had to actually crowd surf his way out to find me. Black marks for us both!Looking down at myself as we went to grab a beer I was slightly disgusted to see that my entire clothing was so drenched in sweat (not just my own) that I looked like I had been swimming - not one dry patch on my t-shirt or denim skirt. Despite this I was once more able to listen to the songs and enjoy myself whole-heartedly as each one surpassed the last, my voice getting weaker with every scream and cheer, but my smile growing. After 3 hours of absolutely rocking out, the legends that are Pearl Jam finally ended on Yellow Ledbetter, with the house lights up. Bodies swaying and voices raised to the sky, I don't think I have been happier in my life. So much so that when it was all over I felt bereft, yet entirely satisfied. Such a long day but one that was entirely worth the effort, we carried our bruised and battered bodies home in a state of euphoria. I cannot wait to do it all over again, although that day may be a long way off.
And in an ode to one of my favourite songs, 'Footsteps', here is a photo of my almost healed tattoo; such big meaning in so a small phrase.
