Washed out. Completely. As much as I was looking forward to the Glade Festival, all odds were against us. The Flu got a hold of me shortly after the fabulous Jostock, a festival of memorabilia for some, but definitely a getaway on a smaller scale. What I was looking for is dance, hard psychedelic trance preferably, on a scale that of the Download Fest, a three day rock function supporting over 217 thousand spectators. Glade had to be it after I’d missed out on the three day Antiworld Festival, that I’ll surely regret not getting a hold of tickets for in time, be it the international dedication to the world of trance spiritualism. Here in the U.K, to which I shall soon bid farewell. Oh darn it. I want trance.