Somerset farmer Michael Eavis, 34, decided to marry his love of music with a desire to clear his overdraft by hosting his own festival, the Pilton Pop, Folk and Blues Festival.

By attracting big names and the best new stars while preserving some of the original anarchic, sociable and mystical spirit, Mr Eavis has turned it into one of the world's top music events.

The �1 fee was paid at the farm gate and included free milk.

Tickets cost �125 plus �8 booking fee - and sold out in three hours.

About 1,500 pop and rock fans, hippies and curious locals turned up. But that was considered a flop - Mr Eavis hoped for 5,000 so ended up getting into more debt. One group walked from London but did not have enough money to get in - so there was a plea from the stage and a whip-round raised �30. "You couldn't think of a more unselfish lot of people," Mr Eavis said at the time.

Some 112,000 public tickets were snapped up - plus thousands more for local residents, media, stallholders, artists and their entourages. Fans had to book tickets over the internet or by phone with a credit card at 0900 on a Sunday - meaning most have a bit of cash to splash and a decent computer. The days of counter-culture crowds are over.

Remembered as a low-key, laid-back event, fans were free to do what they pleased with plenty of space. The death of Jimi Hendrix the previous day did cast a cloud over proceedings - but fans painted slogans on cars and flags proclaiming: "Hendrix lives." Mr Eavis says the image of an orgy of sex and drugs is not really reliable. "It didn't get wild - there were a few hippies wandering around," he says. Folk singer Ian Anderson, who performed, said it was "more like a bunch of people sat on the grass in a park" than a festival. But in recent book Glastonbury Festival Tales, teacher Ruth Garbett, then 14, recalled "quite a lot of people dancing about rather wildly and madly". She also said she was "rather taken" by a scantily-clad woman leading a man in his underpants by a dog lead.

Hippies and space are two things in short supply at the modern Glastonbury. Tents are squeezed into dedicated camping areas while parts of the site throng with crowds day and night - especially before and after popular bands. The type and number of fans may have changed, but Glastonbury remains a place to escape the pressures of the modern world. The normal rules of society do not apply, inhibitions shrink and (almost) anything goes. That could mean over-indulging in drink and drugs, opening your mind to alternative ways of life in the Green Fields or just being friendly to fellow members of the human race.

One stage made of scaffolding and covered with canvas. It was reportedly so flimsy that it had to be tied to an apple tree to stop it blowing away.

Seven major music stages, including dance, jazz and acoustic arenas, plus areas for cabaret, theatre, circus, poetry and politics.

The Kinks were booked but pulled out. With Lola still in the charts, Mr Eavis said: "They didn't think I was up to scratch, which was right." They were replaced by T Rex, with singer Marc Bolan famously pulling up in a velvet-covered car. When Mr Eavis went to stroke it, the singer shouted: "Don't touch my car, man." But Mr Eavis says the band's set was one of the best ever. The bill also included rock band Steamhammer, the "West Country Beatles" Stackridge and singer Wayne Fontana. Some musicians, such as singer-songwriter Al Stewart, just went to watch but ended up on stage. "My God, it was fantastic," Mr Eavis said afterwards. "From the music side, it was rated with the other festivals."

Britain's biggest rock band, Coldplay, top the bill on Saturday night - following recent headliners Sir Paul McCartney, Radiohead and Stereophonics. The White Stripes are the main attraction on Friday, with dance act Basement Jaxx closing the show on Sunday. But there is a wealth of talent throughout the bill catering for just about every taste. New stars such as Babyshambles and Bloc Party rub shoulders with veterans like Van Morrison and Jools Holland. There is also space for dance heroes Chemical Brothers, violinist Nigel Kennedy, Senegalese star Baaba Maal, Cockney kings Chas & Dave - and everything in between.

Hell's Angels took charge of security - but got drunk and set fire to a hay cart.

A 12-foot steel fence keeps gatecrashers out, with hundreds of stewards, police and other emergency services on duty.

The poster promised "All food at fair prices!" and "Ox roast!". One tent produced cheese sandwiches and sausages through the night to keep the crowd going.

Scores of stalls cater for all tastes at all times - from the obligatory dodgy burgers to the Pan Asian Street Food van and the East African Safari Kitchen.

Author and reformed drug smuggler Howard Marks, a festival regular, recalled: "I don't remember if there were any loos - I think we used the hedgerows."

The toilets have become infamous - the stench increases as the conditions worsen during the weekend. There are blocks of portaloos and "long drop" toilets - essentially holes over big pits. Organisers say they are cleaned at least once a day and have "improved considerably" in the last few years. But some still prefer to go in the hedges.