Will play the new Jeremy Warmsley record for food

Brilliantly for the last festival of the season, lots of people seem to be coming to End of the Road by themselves judging by the queue for the shuttle bus at Salisbury train station. This makes the Aloud camp happy, mostly because the Aloud camp consists of one and really can't be bothered to be a leper all weekend. The line-up's too good to waste on being judged by people in silly jackets.

A couple confuse us mightily by seeming to have got into a cab, sitting in it for a bit then taking all their stuff out again. Was the cab not good enough? Or have they actually just got the cab here? Oh wait, that's considerably more likely. In which case, why didn't they stay in it and roar off to Larmer Tree Gardens leaving us lone festivallers to scribble anxiously in our diaries (redhead male, to our right), contemplate lamp posts (man in not-quite-trousers shorts) and chain smoke in stoic folk music listening silence (everyone else).

We've never been to Dorset before. Oh hang on, we're still in Salisbury so technically that's Wiltshire. God our geography's crap. This is entirely our fault for only doing one humanity at GCSE.