There’s no hiding the fact that Leeds Festival is a younger leaning festival often referred to as a GCSE results celebration.
That’s exactly how I know it, I was 15 when I first went. I got my mum to go collect my results because I was too hammered in my broken camp chair that circled a mountain of empty cans. I think that moment right there was enough to peer into my future, all grades aside.
So when the idea was floated that we should revisit it this year the apprehension was strong, but we did and I’m here to tell the tale. So how did it go? Was it every fear I had maximised? Let me tell you.
We’ll start with why Leeds festival was even given a thought. With so many festival options to choose from, why Leeds?
Quite simple, it was an undeniably good summer. Then late August hit, and in one week, the days felt noticeably shorter. The sun didn’t go quite as high one day. Y’know, the primal instincts that probably meant something once upon a time kicking into action. Autumn was approaching and Leeds felt like a good way to send it off.
We can’t leave out that the line up was actually wonderful, and we had it in our minds that we could just avoid the kids. We’re also less than halfway through converting a van into a campervan and thought it’d be a good idea to take her, Shiny, to her first festival this year. Now the whole story gets kinda mental.
Four of us had initially toyed with the idea in early summer, but it was quickly parked.
Seven days out from the festival and the itch started to kick in. A quick message to the group quickly confirmed that everyone was still on the fence, but stood on the ‘no’ side.
Understandable, one of us had to fly in from Ireland and the other was skint with short notice for taking the Friday off work. Laura and I decided to go anyway and we’ll keep trying to convince them, but we’ll still have fun either way.
It hadn’t sold out so we managed to find some cheaper last minute tickets on Ticketswap and bought a campervan pass. Seems normal so far, right? Stick around.
Since money was a deciding factor, we started entering Instagram competitions. You can probably see where this is going, but it gets even better.
Yes, we won a competition for four VIP tickets courtesy of Budweiser (thank you), with their Kappa X Bud merch included.
Well, no one can say no now. The universe wants us there. The money blocker had been removed, excitement was high and there was no time for any other excuses. It’s always easier to get time off when you say, “Yes boss, I’m a VIP, would you like me to come back on Tuesday or Wednesday?”
“Don’t come back at all…” Door slams.
That’s not all.
The next day, I check my DMs.
Smirnoff.
“Hi Sam! You’ve won a pair of VIP festival tickets at Leeds festival 2026 with Smirnoff for you and a mate, including VIP and side-of-stage access 🔥 Travel covered 🚀 Drinks tokens and more ❤️🔥”
HAHA
You what?!
Yep, six tickets. Six days out from the festival.
Side of stage. Fuel covered and drinks tokens. (thank you Smirnoff, too.)
What in the manifestation is this?
We hire another recruit to give their suspecting, “just won VIP tickets a few days before a festival” speech and my brother tags along as he’s up in Leeds already.
So how does this have any relevance to doing Leeds Festival as a person in their 30s? It doesn’t really, but it will eventually.
At the festival
After selling our OG tickets and collecting our guest tickets from Smirnoff’s and Budweiser’s guest lists, we swapped our standard campervan pass for a guest campsite one. And this is where everything ties in.
In guest, you’re at the opposite side of the arena to all the other campsites. Trailer Park, the standard campervan area, is at least a 30 minute walk from the arena, through all the campsites too, so we can only thank the universe for not having us do that.
We also had access to the PayPal VIP lounge at the side of the main stage and our own entrance into the arena.
In the VIP area is the collection of adults and people who have some sort of connection to the festival, or money I suppose.
Outside of these safe havens, you really are swatting 16-year-old flies, but like a cow, you eventually just ignore them (or put up with them silently).
I can call them flies, because I was one.
I did ‘The Goat’ once in a mosh pit during Pendulum (if you don’t know what that is, don’t Google it, it’s not the Capra). I vaguely remember a few flip phone cameras around which would likely have people arrested if they still exist.
We carried ‘The Most Fantastic Funnel’ around with us everywhere, which was a used funnel without the hose that we employed to down nearly every can of Fosters we had in 2 seconds flat. Like a beer bong, but very Yorkshire. I say used because I stole it from my Dad’s garden shed.
Flies.
It was fun because it was lawless.
And teens enjoying lawless fun is maybe something you can laugh at from afar and reminisce about when you’re in your 30s, but you absolutely do not want to be within a 20 metre radius of it. Anything closer, swat.
But listen, the arena wasn’t like that. You can stay in your group and enjoy the artists without interruption.
The sound is actually reaalllyyy good at all the stages too. Something London festivals will have you believing is a thing of the past. It makes a massive difference and gets a 10/10 from me.
The stage positions are brilliant too. There’s a gentle decline to main stage, so you can stand pretty much anywhere and get a decent view.
The bars are empty because it’s full of skint teens, so that’s an added bonus.
We were all pleasantly surprised.
But it was VIP that saved us. I think that’s an absolute must if you want to enjoy the full Leeds Festival experience in your 30s.
We decided to venture out to the campsite stage, Piccadilly Party, for ‘Shit Indie Disco’ on the Friday night. While the music was class, it was a swarm of sub-20-year-olds, drinking essentially unlimited cans of lager as far as tolerance goes at that age.
We sat up on the hill, enjoyed the music and swiftly left never to return to the campsites.
Thanking the lord once again that we didn’t have to walk through them all at least twice a day to get to our campervan, which so very nearly happened.
Honestly, if the line up is that good, it’s worth spending the money on VIP. It’s a great way to experience so many good bands with manageable crowd sizes, great sound and a good mix of genres.
It was the sort of festival where you could walk around the different stages throughout the day and become a fan of someone you hadn’t really heard before.
The VIP bar is a blast after the headliner, stays open past midnight and has its own DJ playing indie bangers so you do still get a taste of all the festival mischief, just not caked in shit.
And since I mentioned it earlier, the side of stage experience was unreal. Did you know you can barely hear anything though? All you can hear is the acoustic clattering of the drums and the crowd singing, crazy. That’s a money-can’t-buy one, though.
I’d also just like to clarify that no one was swatted during the festival, bar maybe me.
