Up the Creek - one awesome festival

Ok, so for years now, literally years, I have been told about the Up the Creek festival. For those same years I somehow just never got round to going. Enter 2011 and comedian Paul Snodgrass invited me to join himself and serial blogger, Dan Nash, for a weekend at the alternative festival. First off, let me put some rumors to sleep that I heard over the years:
1) This is the old people's music festival - I saw so much good looking 20-30 ladies my eyes were in need of a retinal massage for much of the weekend.
2) There is no breaking boundaries music - Taxi Violence playing with Lonesome Dave opened a new chapter in rock in South Africa, as did the Dirty Skirts with the Rudimentals and Jack Parow blew minds including his.
3) The festival is slow - I am sitting here 3 days later and still tired! I literally did not stop partying for 36 hours, my skin feels like an afghan salt flats workers after 80 years of laboring in the sun and my liver actually tried to leave me, we negotiated a settlement.

2000 people partying in a river to live music.

So we arrived on Friday, set up camp, drank some cooling lager and went for a swim in the river. All very mellow and relaxed. We get visited by a fun guy at our camp, drink some more cold lager and decided to move onto the bar. Nash and I are already cruizing at 120km, while Snoddy is talking to girls and a little behind the speed limit - not for long. Suddenly I am watching the Rudimentals rock out with the Dirty Skirts - how and when did this happen my addled mind inquires? Oh well, moving on, but suddenly the main stage is closed and I am watching an Idols winner convince the crowd at the bar he is a blues master. Bit much for me, but hell some people are loving it. It is at this point that George from Taxi Violence decides it would be a good idea to welcome this new player in SA Music properly, rock star style, and he attempts to puke on Elvis Blue. I almost wet my pants, some of the crowd look horrified, Elvis copes well and simply ignores the fact that he has just survived a vomit shower attempt and the show goes on. The photographer was not so lucky and reckons George owes him new shoes. This is what rock festivals are all about. Snoddy has long since dissapeared to his tent, we think with a member of the opposite sex. Nash and I end up on the river bank till the early morning talking cuck and I wake up alone with my feet in the river, on a rock with the sun coming up. Shew, Day 1.

Ryan from the Little Kings enjoyed a weekend off.

It's 8am in the morning and my tent is doing it's best impression of the inside of a volcano with severe heart burn! I feel like I am a pie in the microwave at a BP Express stop. Seems most of the festival feels the same way, as most people are up and about, grabbing a greasy and very cheap I might add breakfast, the bar is already making a mint in cold beer sales. Load up Nash's inflatable boat, the coolerbox, smokes, brollies and a giant inflatable slip-slop and head for the river. There are about 1000 people already frolicking at 9am. We start wading across for the sandbank beach across the river and never make it there. In fact we ended up spending close on 6 solid hours in the river. Brollies go up in the shallow water, beers are cracked, smokes are smoked, girls are flirting in bikinis, bands are playing on the small stage on the river bank and everyone is having an absolute ball. This is the best time I have ever had in a river, I am even getting slightly emotional at this point, bloody awesome!

Can you say Flotilla of Fun 20 times fast?

Head up from the river for G&T's, more flirting and Dave Rabinowitz absolutely owning the crowd for an hour. Seriously the man had me in tears. This is followed by the largest portion of food I have ever eaten for R50, thanks to the local Swellendam farming community putting on a Pork/Lamb spit braai combo. Felt a little slowed down here for a while, untill Jack Parow rolled in and gave the entire festival a great big "PussKlap" - his words not mine. The man was on a mission, what that was is not clear to anyone except himself, but personally I feel he performed the best at the festival. On top of this we clearly counted at least 6 triple brandy and cokes going down his throat by the time he had finished his set. Legend! Bed on Bricks play with Lonesome dave, what a mind fuck! Then they play with Taxi Violence and my mind is in tatters. Then Lonesome dave plays with Taxi Violence. My mind goes blank. Walking back to my tent, I trip over something lying in the road. Is that a body my mind inquires - as my vision clears I realise it is none other than Jack Parow. Try wake him up, it aint going down. Oh well its a festival, he can sleep in the dirt.

Its morning, the heat is climbing. Snoddy left his radio on and we search for jumper cables. Get the car going, do we hang around or go, Breakfast and the Ocean are calling my name. Head out, leaving some 2000 people in the dust and river. I get home, have a shower and nap, then paddle out for a surf at Llandudno. The water is warm for the Cape, waves are fun, loads of peeps cruizin the line up. "So how was your weekend Dude?" I get asked from all sides. I smile and say,

"Totally fucken Insane!"