Financial Services News South Africa

Striking rock at Up the Creek

We started our journey to Swellendam just before 4pm hoping to get there before the sunset so that we could get our tents up with some aid of the daylight. Unbeknownst to us, it was quite a distance to travel taking three hours to eventually get there but thank goodness there was barely a queue at all.
Striking rock at Up the Creek

We found a spectacular spot between four bushes that had our names on it, parked the car, pulled out the tents and were ready to pitch until…*dom dom dom*…the ground was as hard as rock. Hold up, I think some of it actually was rock! Pegs bent, words were exchanged but finally we were settled, or rather settled as can be. After pitching what was to be our homes for the next two nights we basked in the glory of our handy work then grabbed a drink or four and headed down to the main stage to see what all the fuss was about.

Apparently we hadn't missed Hot Water who was supposed to be the first act of the night. Word had it (source being lovely designer couple from Homemaker's Fair I kept floating into while singing down by the river) that they didn't pitch so No one's Arc actually kicked off the festival. Oh well…We checked out what the stalls had to offer - from bongs to biltong and un-pc shirts to foot massages - something for everyone I guess…

By the time we were done I'd finished my lovely warm beverage of choice and moved on to a double vodka and Red Bull (cheap like dirt - only R30). We didn't pay much attention to No One's Arc as we were still settling into the vibe and feeding our worms.

Striking rock at Up the Creek

Taxi Violence was up next and boy oh boy were they fan-f*$&ing-tastic! And so began Up the Creek…The angle-grinding guy - who also plays the role of Satan (who we had a brief jamboree with at the bar) made quite the impression with the crowd adding a certain kinda ‘spark' to the band. As angle-grinding man he created a shower of dazzling lights around the stage; as Satan, he had an enormous large rubber penis strapped to his pelvis…nuff said. I do think it was at this point that the tweens ran for cover. We danced and jumped around till the sweet poured from our pupils! What an awesome band; I do so look forward to seeing them at Ramfest 2009.

Striking rock at Up the Creek

We dashed off to the bar as soon as they were done, got some more spirits and energy booster mixture as the Boulevard Blues Band had a go on the main stage. We on the other hand prepared for Prime Circle, another a%^-kickin' band. Again we danced and jumped around and clapped till the sweat poured from our earlobes…slightly disgusting yet true…Prime Circle got more love at this intimate affair than 5000+/- people at Kirstenbosch could dare to muster. And like one of the guys from one of the bands said (forgive me, I tried all weekend long not to forget who it was), it's really such a “massively unpretentious” festival. Perhaps when you take the city out of folk, they let their hair down a whole lot more…Prime Circle was excellent. They were the last band for the evening, so we mingled with the rest of the festival folk and got up to some frivolous fun meeting Jess and Jessy (not their real names) who work for Creative Ads r' US (not the real company name) and who do naked lift rides on Wednesdays and Fridays. Lovely ladies really…

Ruth, my sister-in-crime and I shook our bon bons to some funky blues at the bar stage after which we returned to our tent and Ruth went off to find Julia who'd disappeared with said Jess and Jessy. I lay awake for awhile till the Red Bull stopped kicking my heart into overdrive and my adrenaline flow calmed down while said sister-in-crime snored as the sheep skipped merrily over the fence in her REM state.

Striking rock at Up the Creek

We rose early to a gloomy looking sky and sped off to the showers only to wait aboot an hour or so to actually get in. Curses! And we thought we'd get ahead of everyone else. After feeling relatively clean and trying to get our clothes on while trying not touching the icky shower floor with our clean toeses we headed down to the river, fishing rod in tow. Had no luck though as sardines smothered in soybean oil turned out not to be a fish-in-the-Breede River delicacy. Curses! After some tips thrown our way by a Miss Know-it-all woman floating downstream in a red hat and still no luck, my hook got stuck to a branch mid-river. I tried swimming out to it to yank it off but it was too far down and my extreme paranoia of “what's down there” got the best of me. I freaked out and decided it was best to cut the cord… We had no other option but to turn to the box off wine, which we drank methodically. We then set off to the tent and laid the rod to rest while we headed off for a proper swim where everyone else was having a splash. We found a lovely spot under the thorn trees in an attempt to find shade and perved over the hotties…not that there were many though. After basking in the ambiance that was cat-wee, we headed down to the water, floated around, splashed a bit, bumped into said designer couple, had a chat, floated awhile with em' then headed to the tent where we finished our box of wine.

We then headed to the main stage area again where we found The Plastics playing to a very chilled out crowd. We on the other hand found the urge to dance and we did as others stared in horror. Whatever! We eventually bumped into Julia and Ruth who we'd not seen all day till then, at the toilet area no less.

To be continued…
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About Sindy Peters

Sindy Peters (@sindy_hullaba_lou) is a group editor at Bizcommunity.com on the Construction & Engineering, Energy & Mining, and Property portals. She can be reached at moc.ytinummoczib@ydnis.
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