Right, let us get the background first. I have been interested in attending the MTN Bush Fire Festival for the last three years. It seemed so worldly and care-free. But, I could never really afford it – very common issue, I’d say. This year (27-29 May 2016), the universe was on my side. In the shape of a very kind and fun soul, of course.
This meant, R-O-A-D-T-R-I-P!! It is a little odd but I take them seriously. Snacks, a BOX of CDs to suit every mood, checking and double checking documents, more snacks and an endless amount of water. Also, a really annoying sing-a-long happy-go-lucky voice. I must sound like Donkey from Shrek. Oef…
After over six hours, buying an assortment of alcopops and getting a new stamp on my very bare passport, we were ready to set up camp in Mahlanya Market, Malkerns, Swaziland!
We arrived quite late in the evening but I had a smooth gin and tonic sippy cup to keep me warm in the long queue of campers. The music was pumping and boy, we were getting super excited to get in to it all.
The entire set up was absolutely phenomenal. Africa, you beaut! If you had to walk around the camp blindfolded, you would have no idea where you were – the languages, accent, diverse music! This is where my heart belongs.
Saturday morning. The one thing I never miss about festivals is the shower queue. After standing in a snaking queue to jump in to a cold shower but what’s worse is the cold water running out then having to dry your soapy body with a dry towel. Half loaf is better than no loaf, they say. Half clean and ready to eat, drink and dance through the festival.
A beautiful atmosphere, incredible talent and one of the best that I have attended with the absolute gem company.
Warmth fills my soul when I think about this amazing weekend.
I took this photo as I was unpacking after my fantastic trip to Cape Town a month ago. As I was browsing through some photos now, I thought, “Well, this would be the perfect contents in my summer holiday bag…”
It always captures my heart. I am in my element here. It is as though the surrounding beauty speaks my language. We are in tune.
This was not a good ol’ touristic trip. It was to be reunited with my best friend who now lives and works in the United State of ‘Murrica. A weekend was not enough. Oh hell, a week would not have been enough.
The beginning of this “let’s cause a bit of havoc and occupy CT” mission started at 3am on Friday morning. I woke up way too early. Too keen.
Easter weekend. This is why there are people driving about at 4am. Oef! I was awake so early because I live approximately 40 minutes away from the airport. I love airports. You see the most genuine facial expressions here.
Upon arrival. Breath taken away. Inhale. Exhale.
I travelled with Natalie. You special person, you! She was hungover and not entirely responsive that morning. Hilarious to watch, really. I was a hobbit: by 9am, I was already on “second breakfast”.
What a treat! Sunny with a chilly breeze. Ice cold sea water! Is that even normal? Durban has a minimum of 18 degrees sea water. Ah! Blaspheme! Needless to say, I could only stick my toes in the water. Then, I ran! Away! As fast as I could!
After the beach, meeting Carl and his gnarly mates, it was time for a little walkabout around town. I took some photos on the promenade. Unfortunately, my battery died. I saw some middle-aged women reading magazines in their thongs. Cape Town. You would think you are no longer in Africa. I stopped by at a rather inviting place called Knead. Nothing like freshly baked bread. I bought some for the braai that we were hosting that evening.
Our punch brought all the mates to the yard! Kelly is the queen of making deliciously potent punch (I will never forget the punch you made for your 18th…). We played a drinking game of Kings. You must know the game — it was solely invented to make the players ridiculously inebriated.
After a blurry night out in town. We had a boogy on Long Street — and, I am told that I witnessed a girly cat fight on the dance floor. As far as I am concerned, I killed it on the dance floor. I must have paraded some wicked Durban dance moves. Or, not.
Let’s not talk about it. However, let’s talk about Saturday afternoon. Vortex. The drive was beautiful. Stopped by for a Wimpy breakfast to somewhat cure the hangover. May have worked. Vortex is a psy-trance music festival; and this time, it was in Caledon. Approximately 1 hour 30 minutes away from Cape Town. I say approximately because I was in and out of sleep (I was not driving!).
Great stomping. Fun music. My god, I love people watching at such festivals. You end up questioning existence. Or, sanity. I woke up the next morning in the back seat of the car curled up in my sleeping bag with cramps and a rather sore hip. The word “tickets” was going around. I don’t recall why, but apparently I had these “tickets”. I mean, I was first man down… Is this the ticket for the point of no return? Someone. Please.?
Also, it was freezing! Possibly 12 degrees! Please don’t argue with a Durbanite – it was freezing cold!
That was the end of the trip. Checking in late (5 minutes before the check in closing time) and then having turbulence on the flight home after the rough two nights I had gone through. The universe was against me. Perhaps, it was trying to tell me to stay in Cape Town a little while longer. You know, to search for my name that I had chucked out the window. Mildly.
Thank you for making this one hell of a trip. Kelly, your kindness amazes me everyday! I missed you as soon as I said goodbye! Errgh! See you soon.