Staying up past bedtime on Saturday at Isle of Wight Festival 2019

I'm always impressed with older people who are still going to festivals.

I don't mean people in their 50s and 60s, since that's neither old nor unusual nowadays.

I'm talking about the couples in their 80s who are still turning up and barging their way past you whilst holding two pints in plastic cups to get slightly nearer the front for Fatboy Slim. 

I like to think I'll be one of those people, although I've got to say it's not quite going to plan.

Mrs Guru and I have accepted that we generally need to get to bed by 10pm every night to allow for the usual 6am wake-ups and the occasional midnight call to deal with someone who is too hot, too cold or has an urgent question about why the sky is blue.

And so it caused a bit of a hoohaa when we realised that one of my favourite acts - Garbage - were due on stage at 11.45pm on Saturday night. 

"That's when they start?" asked Mrs Guru, who was doing calculations in her head about what time we'd get back and what time the children would wake up.

We concluded that Mrs Guru would sit this one out and I headed to the site to meet up with friends.

The evening raced by with George Ezra putting in a decent performance despite being 'dosed up on anti inflammatories' after a jogging mishap (one of the more wholesome drug-related stories you'll hear from a headliner).

Rather confusingly, the headliner wasn't on last, which reminded me of the decision to name the third tier of professional football as 'League One'.

After a few minutes of 80s anthems in the Electro Love tent we headed back to the Main Stage for Fatboy Slim who pumped out some banging beats like, er, an efficiently engineered Victorian pumping machine (note to self, don't apply for a job at NME).

Then it was time for Garbage, appearing at the festival for the first time. The band played a festival-friendly set, rattling through most of their best-known songs for just over an hour. In my head, I was 15 again, even if my body was telling me that it would really rather be tucked up in bed by now.

By the time I crept into bed, it was 2am. Not-enough hours later I was sat on the sofa watching CBeebies. Still, I concluded it was worth the struggle. 

​Perhaps when I'm in my 80s I'll be able to have a lie-in...