It’s a tradition, or an old charter, or something, which decrees that someone has to take themselves off to Cambridge in order to queue for tickets to the Folk Festival.
So David and I flung ourselves down the A14 and went to Cambridge for the most unproductive and infuriating five hours I’ve ever experienced. However we managed to drink a fair few cups of coffee in Starbucks, and I even chanced a slice of their granola bar).
In a boredofjam first, here’s a video of the queue as we walked along it…
Did we get tix? Eventually. Literally three minutes before the hotline closed Dave managed to get through (this being after spending the day on redial duty on two mobiles, and even having to resort to buying a charger to use in the car after my battery died two-and-a-half hours in).