After the last ever Authentics gig at DMU back in October and then the last ever Authentics gig at The Charlotte in February and then The Park gig in April, we got asked to play one more show by the nice people of the Glastonbudget Festival and as everyone was free and The Park gig being a difficult Thursday night, we decided to do another show at a proper festival to begin our summer break.

I use "proper" in the loosest sense of the word as we practised hard the week before at our new favourite practice rooms RPM, and then had a few days of light rest before getting up early on Saturday morning ready to for the big day. With emails flying around the preceding weeks asking us to confirm numbers and stage setup, we managed to get everything in order and jumped in the cars and headed towards the sleepy village of Wymeswold who once a year hold host to Europe's biggest tribute band festival.

Our regular roadie Phil was pleased to see our new mate Steve bring along an estate car which eased the pain on his poor Seat's suspension and after introducing him to the band, Dave and myself jumped into the car and (after a quick stop off at McDonald's, which resulted in Steve chatting up the girl behind the counter) we drove out of the city with Steve driving with his knees at times as he scoffed down his Happy Meal!

After leaving the A46 at too early a junction and heading into the village centre we ask a displeased looking man directions – even though he sounded like he was a bully Barnsley gent –yet he kindly helped us and continuing our quest we first drove to the wrong car parking entrance then back along the road to the artists entrance behind the main stage. Parking up, we cracked open a couple of Foster tinnies, having stocked up fully at Bargain Booze before the trip hade even started and headed over to receive our wristbands. After the email fiasco, we are surprised to find a group of teens asking us how many guest passes we want and they begin handing them out as if they were Buddhist good luck charms. Luckily then, both Steve and Phil as well as Jon's girlfriend Katharine get their free passes and I wonder what the point of forwarding the names on was (and worry about the security at the same time).

Moving the car down to the "Charny Army" marquee stage where would be opening the day at 1.30pm (it was around half twelve when we arrived), Steve did a few doughnut-style manoeuvres in the grassy car park with a open beer in his hand and we convince the security guy with manboobs to let us unload the heavy amps and band equipment as near as possible. As we enter the large white tent we get the first shock of the day as the stage manager (another teen in control of lots of other inexperienced teens) informs us that there is no power yet and they are unsure when they are going to have it on. "Typical", we thought as we look around and ask about a PA as it is suspiciously absent. Apparently they don't have that either! All they do have is a drum shell and we find 5 minutes later there is no stool for that!

Moaning about our luck – no change for us there – we take a slow wander around the festival site and discuss what we can do to kill some time.

Wisely, we brought a box full of CDs and some stickers and decided to hand them out as flyers making some good friends on the way but having to apologise for the lack of action going on in our tent and secretly hoping that people would come back once the sound check was out the way – which turned out to be some hours away.

As we felt lady luck disappear for us, we had to feel sorry for the bands that had actually gone through a competition at local venue The Shed to play on the main unsigned stage. The reason being was that the wind across the field was at such a strength the organisers had had to shut it down on health and safety grounds. Watching as the sides of the stage billowed out like Hurricane Katrina was hitting it with her full force, we could straight away see why, as any artist would have needed a selection of safety ropes and crampons to stay on the stage and not been blown off to Norway!

After, the group of us then headed to the other marquee and we realised that a lot of the stages had already been swapped around with the acoustic stage being the one that had to be cancelled to make way for the others shifting down the bill.

We watch a kids band rock their huge school following with a cover of the Arctic Monkeys as soundmen Ollie and Kurt fiddle with their mixing desk before Kurt is seconded over to our marquee stage as the place begins to take shape as some kind of actual performance area. An hour goes by and we run into the ladies of Pink Strip in some hot leather corsets and mini-skirts who inform us that this is also their last gig for a while. Sympathising with them we then speak to Fall of Jupiter who are the band .. us and they seem to agree with our sentiments that it could have been run "better".

As the alcohol flowed, we cared less about the stage as we had set our equipment up and knew that we would be first on no matter what occurred. We caught a dreadful Beatles tribute band (I don't recall Paul McCartney being a 6' 4" bald man) before we headed back for a sound check around three o' clock. Plugging everything in, they eventually have to use the monitors as speakers and as half three rolled around and with a decent crowd building up - our CD flyers working a treat - we start the set and finally the day can begin – albeit 2 hours late. We rock through the first 4 songs and the crowd, now hearing music from the tent for the first time ever, begin to come in and we have build a large crowd of rockers from all ages from the front to back enjoying the silky guitars licks of our fan favourite "Back Down to Earth".

Ending on a "Ton of Bricks"-"Popstar/Rockstar" medley we feel we started the day well and our thoughts were confirmed when we get rid of 75 CDs and a group of dancer girls nearby want us to sign them and then take photos of us with each of them! Ha ha! The organiser thanks us for our patience and says it was well worth it and we thank him for having us and wish the crowd and the bands the best of luck with the rest of the day – they'll need it.

As the next act take the stage, Fall of Jupiter's bassist has a crisis with his instrument and I lend him mine, knowing that this stage can't get any further behind in it's schedule before I catch their set and then head outside to the sun. Soaking up the festival atmosphere I run into an old friend called Emilie of the Rugged Sound System – a funky 8 piece from Loughborough - and we chat about the day so far over some beer and chips.

We meet plenty of crazy people after and once realising that we didn't pack a tent we get offered a place with a group of ladies who are in the brass section of one of the Motown bands on the main stage the next day. Our good friend Sam also informs us that she had brought a spare tent that we could have – bonus. Steve, our driver, had already decided to sleep in his car if it rained. Luckily for us though, the afternoon's weather stayed dry and we headed to the real ale tent to grab a drink after finishing all of ours in a measly couple of hours.

We catch both SKAM and Pink Strip's set as well as a howler of a band who's name we didn't catch (or want to) in the re-arranged acoustic tent before heading to the main beer tent to (unfortunately) meet a random guy trying to convince me Oasis are the best band ever. After informing him that I didn't mind the first album and that I saw them live at Knebworth, he proceeded to tell me that I was wrong and that they are bigger than The Beatles. A few more minutes of incoherent ramblings left me with the feeling that he actually thought the tribute band Oasish who had just started WERE Oasis and he waddled off like a drunken Gallagher in search of his sing along anthems.

As the beer got warm and our bodies colder as the night drew in, me, Dave and Gray decided to blag a lift back to the city centre as we were drunk and probably couldn't put up a tent anyways. Phil, Jon and Katharine had already gone and we had lost Steve so had one final chat to some strangers and a bouncer who was head of security and said that his regular shows included staffing Elton John's birthday party as well as recent tours by The Police and next week's Wembley Foo Fighters gig. Lucky bugger!

So we get back to Leicester then head for a quick freshen up before heading into the city centre and at 10pm we realise we're into double-digit drinking hours and we have a vodka and redbull to perk ourselves up. Once these were downed we agreed to go to Retribution's new night at the O4 venue. Note to self – don't go again – the venue is too clean to hold a full-on metal and punk night but we have a good time with more drinks and dancing. Running into Becci Firebrand and Stevie McHaggis before long, I look around at 2am and realise Gray has disappeared. In my drunken state I feel as if he's been gone three-quarters of an hour (in reality it's more like 5 minutes, perhaps even 2) so decided that a slow and stumbly walk back to the West End where I live is in order.

Halfway home I receive a text from Gray asking where I am and explain that I left because he had left too. He sadly informed me he had only gone to the bathroom and left me for 30 seconds but I was too drunk to care and the only thing I needed was a glass of water and a slice of toast. Obviously, I chose neither so grabbed a spicy pizza from Narborough Road and somehow got my key in the door whilst trying to not wake my house or the neighbours up and basked into a Bank Holiday drunken festival sleep.

Thanks all for a brilliant weekend