Slightly Anxious salutes the festival-goer
Author: Slightly Anxious Date: 14th July 2026 Time to read: 12 minutes
Slightly Anxious is here to help you turn any crisis into a manageable adventure — for you and everyone you care about.
Every summer, hundreds of thousands of otherwise sensible Britons pay good money to spend three days living in a field with no mains power, no running water, no refrigeration, patchy phone signal, and toilets we shall politely describe as character-building. Glastonbury alone welcomes around 210,000 people, and they don’t just endure it — they have the time of their lives, and they book again next year.
Here at Slightly Anxious we think this deserves a moment of recognition. Because in emergency preparedness there are two scenarios you plan for, and the festival-goer has already rehearsed one of them to perfection. The first scenario is evacuation: you’re forced out of your home at short notice and expected to manage for three days on the move, carrying everything you need. The second is staying put: the emergency confines you to your home, and there the planning standard is seven days of self-sufficiency. A festival weekend is, almost exactly, the first scenario — three days, everything on your back, no mains services — just with headliners. The festival-goer is not just having a lovely weekend. They are, without realising it, the best-rehearsed evacuee in the country. The rest of us are just catching up.
If you have read our article ‘Slightly Anxious says Get a Grab Bag’ you will know all about that first scenario: a packed bag by the door holding 72 hours of essentials, because when the knock comes you may have minutes, not hours. It’s no coincidence that a Grab Bag’s contents read like a festival kit list, and that both are built around the same three-day clock: arrive Friday, leave Monday, and in between you carry everything you need. Same duration, same constraints, considerably more mud. The second scenario — riding out a crisis at home for up to a week — is the subject of most of our other articles, and we’ll come back to it, because it’s where the festival-goer’s training needs extending.
So let’s give the festival-goer their due and go through the skills they’ve quietly mastered — skills the rest of us need to borrow.
Packing ruthlessly — the festival-goer knows that every single item must be carried across a car park, a field, and quite possibly a bog. They have learned, sometimes painfully, the difference between what you want and what you need. That is precisely the discipline a Grab Bag demands: 72 hours of essentials, nothing more, in a bag you can actually carry. A Cabinzero Classic Backpack 36L at c.£70-£90 will do nicely for either job.
Power management — no plugs in a field. The festival-goer arrives with a charged power bank, drops their phone to low-power mode, and rations screen time like wartime butter. In a power cut, that’s exactly the routine you’ll need. We recommend the Anker Prime Power Bank, 20,000mAh Portable Charger at c.£100-£140 — pricey, but tiny and rugged, and it will charge a phone several times over.
Water discipline — festival-goers plan their day around the water points, carry a refillable bottle everywhere, and never waste a drop on anything frivolous. Read our article ‘What to do when the water has been turned off’ and you’ll see the overlap. A HydraMate Collapsible Water Bottle — 750ml at c.£10-£14 folds to nothing when empty, which is why you’ll see them dangling off rucksacks in every festival campsite in the land.
Hygiene without a bathroom — the festival-goer has elevated the wet wipe, the dry shampoo, and the hand sanitiser into a complete personal-care system. Three days, no shower, still presentable on Monday. That is a genuine skill, and it’s the entire subject of our article ‘Hygiene is everything with Slightly Anxious’. Compressed towelettes (22 PCS Benano Premium Disposable Compressed Face Towels at c.£8-£10) are the gold standard here — tiny in the bag, invaluable in use.
Food that needs no fridge — energy bars, nuts, dried fruit, and peanut butter sachets: the festival-goer’s daypack is already stocked exactly like the consumables Grab Bag we recommend. They’ve also learned the golden rule that morale eats first — pack at least one treat.
Dressing for weather that can’t make its mind up — layers, always layers. Merino socks (Smartwool Unisex Mountaineer Classic Edition at c.£20-£30 per pair), a fleece, and a packable waterproof, because a British field in June can deliver all four seasons before lunch. This is precisely the clothing logic of our article ‘What to do when the heating stops’.
Sleeping somewhere suboptimal — anyone who has slept in a two-man tent next to a sound system can sleep through a crisis. Earplugs, an eye mask, and acceptance. For the emergency version, an emergency bivvy bag (2 Pcs Emergency Sleeping Bag with 2 Pcs Reusable Survival Blanket at c.£13-£17) folds up smaller than a festival poncho.
Meeting up when the phones die — the festival-goer’s masterstroke. When the network collapses under 200,000 people, they don’t panic; they’ve already agreed to meet ‘by the big flag at the main stage at six’. That is a muster plan, and it’s exactly what we urge every household to agree in ‘Slightly Anxious says Get a Grab Bag’. If you can find your friends at a festival without signal, you can find your loved ones in an evacuation.
Keeping cheerful in a queue — never underestimate this one. Crises, like festivals, involve a great deal of waiting around. The festival-goer waits with card games, conversation, and a stoic national pride in orderly queueing. Our article ‘Keeping Entertained with Slightly Anxious’ makes the same point: morale is a supply you must pack like any other.
The bum bag — essentials on the body, not buried in the rucksack. Cash, cards, lip balm, phone. A Maxtop Large Bumbag with 4-Zipper Pockets at c.£13-£17 is as much emergency kit as it is festival fashion, whatever your teenagers may tell you.
Now, before every festival-goer reading this gets too pleased with themselves, we should be honest: a festival is an emergency with the difficult parts removed. There is a medical tent. There are food stalls when your supplies run out. There is a lost-property desk, security keeping an eye on things, and — crucially — a known end date. Monday comes, and you go home to a hot shower. A genuine crisis offers none of these comforts. And remember our second scenario: when the emergency doesn’t force you out but instead keeps you in — a storm, a flood nearby, a burst water main, a prolonged power cut — three days of supplies won’t do. Seven days is the standard to plan for at home, and it’s where the festival-goer’s kit list needs topping up:
A proper first aid kit — the medical tent isn’t coming with you. The St John Ambulance Home First Aid Kit at c.£15-£21 is compact and comprehensive. Always read the label and consult a pharmacist if unsure.
Water purification — festival water points are tested and safe; emergency water may not be. Oasis 67mg Water Purification Tablets, 200 tablets at c.£7-£9, weigh almost nothing.
A wind-up or battery radio — there’s no festival app pushing updates in a real crisis. The Midland ER10VP Weather Radio with Flashlight at c.£40-£50 keeps you informed when the networks are down, a subject we cover fully in ‘How to keep informed and keep talking’.
Copies of your documents and about £150 in small notes — no cashless wristbands in an evacuation centre. Keep both in a waterproof pouch.
A head torch — many festival veterans already own one, and they’re right: light plus two free hands. The Petzl Actik Core at c.£60-£80 is rechargeable with battery back-up.
Depth of supplies — this is the big one. The festival-goer packs for three days on the move; the well-prepared household stocks for seven days at home. That means a week’s water, a week’s food that needs no fridge, and a week’s worth of the consumables you never think about until they run out. The good news is that at home you’re not carrying any of it on your back. Our articles ‘Curated Meals at Slightly Anxious’ and ‘What to drink in an emergency situation’ take you through exactly what a seven-day larder looks like.
You may have noticed what we’ve done here. The festival-goer’s weekend is our indoor camping holiday, just outdoors and with a better line-up. The mindset is identical: this situation is temporary, I have what I need, the people I care about are with me, and there’s no reason we can’t make the best of it. That mindset — not the kit, the mindset — is nine-tenths of preparedness. The kit just makes it comfortable. All the festival-goer has to do is stretch it: if you can keep yourself fed, watered, charged, and cheerful for a three-day weekend, doing it for seven days at home — with your own bed, your own kettle, and no queue for the toilets — is not a leap. It’s an upgrade.
And if you’ve never been to a festival in your life? Take heart. Everything the festival-goer learned in a field, you can learn from an armchair, because we’ve done the research for you. Our articles cover every scenario from ‘What to do when the power goes out’ to ‘Slightly Anxious about rising water levels’, with specific products at realistic prices. Unlike certain American ‘Prepper’ websites, we won’t try to sell you a camouflage bunker — just sensible kit that wouldn’t look out of place at Glastonbury, chosen so that being prepared feels less like fearing the worst and more like packing for a weekend you might, against all odds, rather enjoy.
As a member of Slightly Anxious, we’ll even play the role of the festival organiser: every three months we’ll remind you to recharge your devices, refresh your food and water, and swap your kit for the season ahead. All you have to do is turn up.
So this summer, when you see the wellies and the rucksacks heading for the fields, tip your hat. They’re not just going to a festival. They’re rehearsing the evacuation. The seven days at home — that’s where we come in.
Remember, keep calm and visit us here.
This blog post has been AI-assisted with human oversight
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