So how did I fare sober? Well, if I’m totally honest, it was hit and miss. What I quickly realised is that being sober heightens everything in an environment like that. The incredible moments will feel wildly emotional; think uncontrollable weeping as Elton John belted out his final UK performance of Rocket Man, or being unable to wipe a smile off my face at Lana Del Rey’s shambolically started but iconically finished performance.

But I had to learn to adapt my levels of understanding and patience fairly quickly. In my day-to-day life drunk people, or people on drugs, can be annoying as time wears on, but, at Glastonbury, I had to learn to laugh at the maddest moments or I might have gone mad myself.

Like when I was woken up at 4AM by a loud voice booming over a megaphone as a man was giving Gary Lineker a run for his money by commentating on people going to the toilet. “Man in the green shirt, enjoy that poo,” he shouted, “Off for a number one are we lady in the red trousers?.”

Or the man in the tent next to me who couldn’t stop heckling his poor friends who evidently couldn’t stop shagging, “I can hear you again!,” he’d call out uncontrollably giggling, “No you can’t, take your Valium,” was the reply. For the record, I, thankfully, heard nothing.

There were many bonuses, like being awake enough to take a shower each morning while everyone else was on the baby wipe train. And I even made a sober friend in the queue (of course two sober people would be by being the first ones up at a festival) who told me there are a whole community of sober Glastonbury goers who all support each other through a WhatsApp group.

But I’d be lying if I said there weren’t downsides. Whereas the previous two times I’ve been to Glastonbury I’ve skipped off to ShangriLa with wild abandon, late night partying felt harder when other people’s drugs started to kick in and conversations became limited. But I wouldn’t have wanted to join them, nor did I judge them. It served more as a reminder that my life is different now and I’m ok with that.

I gave up alcohol because it made me unhappy, anxious and, as I moved into my mid thirties, from the beer fear, to the crippling hangovers, it wasn’t serving me anymore. I feel lucky to say that for the most part it’s been not only easy, but the best decision I’ve ever made for myself and my mental health.