ELTON JOHN brought down the curtain on a sun-baked Glastonbury Festival with his last ever concert in the United Kingdom as the Sunday night headliner on Pyramid Stage.
The legendary 76-year-old self-styled Rocketman launched his set with Pinball Wizard.
But, pretty soon, he was onto the tear-jerkers Goodbye Yellow Brick Road and I Guess That's Why They Call it the Blues, my own personal favourite - before further emotional performances of Someone Saved My Life Tonight, Your Song, and Candle in the Wind.
Then the party got started as Tiny Dancer, Don't Go Breaking My Heart, Crocodile Rock, Saturday Night's Alright for Fighting and I'm Still Standing came in quick succession.
Guests included Brandon Flowers of The Killers for Tiny Dancer - but absolutely no one would have guessed his other invitees:
▪️ the London Community Gospel Choir for Are You Ready For Love and Sad Songs (Say So Much)
▪️ TikTok star Stephen Sanchez for Until I Found You
▪️ Japanese singer Rina Sawayama for Don't Go Breaking My Heart
Elton finished his set by dedicating Don't Let The Sun Go Down on Me to his late fellow performer George Michael before leaving the stage after Rocket Man. Strangely, though, there was no encore.
Entertaining and self-effacing Astley got the mood right by mixing up his set somewhat with covers of Harry Styles's As It Was and, rather unexpectedly, Highway To Hell by AC/DC.
Astley finished, of course, with a sing-a-long of Never Gonna Let You Down with the whole of the crowd.
Elsewhere, the Other Stage also presented strong performances from the likes of The Hives and Lightning Seeds back-to-back early on Friday, and Generation Sex and Manic Street Preachers on Saturday.
In particular, Generation Sex were a great throwback to height of punk rock as Billy Idol was joined by former Sex Pistols, Steve Jones and Paul Cook, to alternate between the most famous hits from Generation X and the Pistols.
Idol finished with the brilliant version of My Way from the latter - and delivered a typically energetic performance despite somehow having to style it out in a leather jacket in the sweltering heat.
Of course, any good Glastonbury visit goes beyond Pyramid and Other with options available on over 100 stages, big and small - and smaller.
Steve Earle delighted on the Acoustic Stage with the proper version of Galway Girl while Richard Thompson of 1970s folk revivalists Fairport Convention slowed everything down there on a sweltering Saturday.
The eclectic sounds of Congolese groovers Kanga Bongo Man really got feet moving in front of the West Holts stage, while Sparks provided another perfect throwback on The Park.
Arcadia and Silver Hayes remain the prime late night area for dance music enthusiasts - and the giant fire-spewing spider Arcadia delivered great visuals even for more casual listeners to the genre.
Elsewhere, South African a capella quintet The Joy provided much joy to the Rabbit Hole on Friday night - but the main action into the early hours still comes from the south east corner.
On Sunday night, my close friend Jonathan, his amiable work shift partner Tom, and another friend Chris all ambled along the Old Railway Path in a successful attempt to keep the Festival going as long as possible.
The sights of the south east corner were as eye-opening as ever with personal highlights being The Unfairground and The Temple, a Colosseum-style rave venue.
Additionally, bizarre space rockers Henge performed an entertaining set on the Truth Stage before the final journey back to the tent at 5am on Monday was pleasantly interrupted by the New York Brass Band on the Rocket Lounge.
As if we could end up anywhere else...
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Back to the headliners on Pyramid - and the peaceful efforts of Yusuf/Cat Stevens somehow kept the ominous storm clouds away from delivering a downpour before Blondie stepped things up from opener One Way Or Another onwards.
It was generally agreed, though, that Elton John provided the best big stage entertainment - while Arctic Monkeys on Friday night had been a major disappointment.
Now, it is quite obvious that Alex Turner's group have undergone a significant style change since their debut album Whatever People Say I Am, That's What I'm Not.
But there is absolutely no way that the frontman should be crooning away to old classics like Mardy Bum as well. It just doesn't work.
Conversely, Guns N Roses on Saturday played in a far more orthodox hard-rock fashion - and, as such, will have pleased their hardcore fanbase.
The appearance of Dave Grohl during their closer Paradise City was a glorious way to finish - but the set, as a whole, lacked the wider connection to the crowd enjoyed by the Rocketman.
Grohl, however, had already himself become the central figure of this edition of the Festival, as the worst-kept secret in Glastonbury history - the made-up band the Churn-Ups - were indeed revealed to be the Foo Fighters.
Despite the lack of surprise, the one-hour set on Friday evening was the highlight of my seventh visit to Worthy Farm as the Foos were left simply no room for filler.
Opening with All My Life, Grohl expertly navigated his way through the set via outright classics Learn To Fly, The Pretender, My Hero, Best Of You, and Everlong.
The slower version of My Hero was the absolute height of my Festival - and for a very personal reason.
Now, this edition of the Glastonbury was always going to be a pretty special one for me - having not been since 2017, I was desperate to go in what is my 40th year.
Excitingly, in the ballot last October, I got a ticket - or, more accurately, I was part of a WhatsApp group all trying for tickets, of whom one man was successful for the rest of us. Thanks, Kieran.
Thereafter, Jonathan worked out a route of six trains for me from my home town of Blaydon in Tyneside all the way to Bristol Temple Meads, via Hexham, Carlisle, Wigan North West, Birmingham New Street, and Cheltenham Spa.
Remarkably, it worked out almost without a hitch except for an unscheduled change at Preston where my train from Carlisle abruptly terminated. Simply, though, I just had to board the service to Birmingham one stop early.
In Bristol, I was offered an overnight flat by another lad Shing and stayed there with his mate Coops before catching the coach to the Festival on Thursday morning.
With my beer and snacks brought onto site in ever-faithful John's campervan, it was all set up perfectly. In truth, though, a shadow hung over the whole journey.
In March, a new reality had intervened after my dad was diagnosed with terminal cancer and renal failure, for which he needed dialysis to keep him alive.
Then, on the very eve of the Festival, the hospital consultant advised that, due to the extent of the cancer, the dialysis was no longer effective.
Devastatingly, my dad now had no further treatment available to him - and, suddenly, doubts inevitably crept in about the trip altogether.
With the goodwill of my parents, I decided still to go but my thoughts were never far away from my dad.
The lyrics by the Foo Fighters in My Hero read:
There goes my hero
Watch him as he goes
There goes my hero
He's ordinary
The tears flowed. Of course, the tears flowed - those lyrics spoke so close to me.
My dad has never come across as being, or wanting to be, any more than an ordinary bloke living a quiet life, working hard and raising a family. He has deserved a far more fruitful retirement.
At the same time, my dad has actually always been My Hero - and, after the toughest few months of my life, I will be very soon watching him as he goes.
That moment at Glastonbury was like no other. Already this has been a year like no other.
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