Where do I begin? How is even possible to describe the sheer psychosis of what was seen, heard, experienced, done, and (dare I say) filmed-with-go-pro’s-on-heads this weekend! It was, in a hyphenated word, non-commonsensical!
Friday night around 10pm after passing a major road block at the De Hoek turnoff- they literally pulled every car over to search and so forth so I’m pretty sure you went through it – if, you too, went for the whole weekend. We got through no worries though, they actually found us to be rather a hoot. Especially Jess who disappeared to pee and, upon her return, was covered in marsh and ran back to the car screaming.
We didn’t bother to set up tents and that, it was time to get our groove on so, off we went, to the second little dance floor – which would see no bodies after the main one opened the next day. A lot happened. There was filming, photo’s were taken, a hundred new friends were made, hugged, stomped with…till around 8 or 9 am when we decided to mission back to the car and have a quick nap. The next thing I remember we were in a dodgy town getting petrol and ice and stuff of course being stared at like we were nutters – as usual. After changing a flat- thank greatness I got a new spare last week- we were back to the party for round 2!
Saturday/ Sunday is pretty much a battle between the “where am I’s?” and the “who am I’s?” There came a time where I would literally just stop and stare and then, I was back. I’d be thinking: how long have we been sitting here for? Minutes often felt like hours. Some hours went by, with stomping, misdoing’s, swimming and missioning involved… often felt like it hadn’t happened yet. De Hoek Estate was a whirlwind of happiness, aweh’s, wet hair, neon colours, dirty faces, filthy feet and hugging. There were clashes of music but somehow they all made sense. And then they didn’t.
4am or so saw a lot of new people arriving for their Sunday stomps. And around 7 or 8am saw me heading towards a coma. But after a one hour nap I soldiered on and hit the path again…
As we walked through a sequence of welcoming faces, passed by stalls and their contented salesmen (and their new-found adoptive families whom had sought comfort on the mattresses, pillows, chairs (anything they may have back there that’s remotely soft to chill on) our grinning faces beamed. If it were you, perhaps you may have entered a stall to high five a fellow trooper, respite in the shadow, if only for moment, make new families, greet the best friends you made ten minutes ago… it’s some breed of utopia where everyone adores everything and everyone and they all love you back. The dirtier you get the better. The muddier, the madder!
I recall that we were sitting between Oh-So-Peachy and the small dance floor rocking on a log, laughing hysterically and people were walking by pouring water on us (which was happily received in the char of the day) and the next thing we knew we were being kidnapped in a British persons Golf toward the dam. We found it – after almost rolling backwards into it. We really thought that was the end for us. But it wasn’t. When we saw the dam, we smiled. It was glorious.
Later we found ourselves back at the main dance floor but it was sadly nearing the end. People shouting “one more” to the DJ is never a good sign! Later we figured since we were some of the last die-hards chilling on our blankets, sharing the last of our liquids and having a laugh, it was about that time to leave. We arrived home around 10pm. And we were out. Like lights.
I want to go back…
A huge thanks to Jacques and the rest of the organizers, the epic DJ’s, sound guys, artwork and visual guys and Jess at Media Monster for the pics ( to see more click here).