Remembrance of Things Past

In Search of Lost Time.There's nothing new about a bit of nostalgia. It's always been there.So, this (Reading Rock Festival) was my first ever festival. I'd been to loads of gigs but nothing this big. I think it was 1974 or thereabouts. It was. I was 18, and a good pal and I hitchhiked down the A1 to London and onwards to Reading. I can't quite recall the various lifts we took, but I'm pretty sure the last leg was by train from Ealing. In Ealing I ate some rollmop herring, fresh from a jar on the counter in a hot and dingy bar, along with a pint of warm Guinness. Most of the journey down from Scotland had been spent going from pub to pub and, funnily enough, in the final pub in Reading we met two young ladies. Not sure they were old enough to be in a pub but ... we all sat cross legged on the floor together, had a smoke, a laugh, a few more pints, and off we all went. I'll say no more, but that set the festival weekend up nicely.I do recall paying hard cash at the festival gate, not…