I was 18 and missed Castlemorton due to A-Levels. Yeah, I know, sell-out.
I missed Fantazia at Castle Donington, which was all of 3 miles from home, due to a lads holiday in Corfu, which included a booze cruise run by techno cockneys to still-behind-the-Iron-Curtain Albania. Or so they told us.
Spent the summer taking pills and acid, misbehaving, listening to hardcore, techno and what used to be called 'alternative', in the cosmopolitan backwater of the E. Midlands.
Went to the Universe Time Machine rave near Bath, which was an eye-opener, and only about 2 weeks before 'going up to Oxford', as you have to call it, only to find that rave had not really penetrated the minds of the supposedly gilded youth of Britain, where everyone I meet seemed hung up on fucking U2 and Nirvana, waiting for Radiohead to turn up. I spent a lot of the weekends of that first term at Birmingham University, which was much more kicking. But I met like minds back in Oxford eventually and it got better, much better. Ended '92 living for Prism and Spectrum on alternate Friday nights at the Venue in Cowley Road, pilled up with some of the best people I'll ever meet and never happier. Looked like this: