By Leah Solomon
Every year hoards of Rhodes students make their way to Splashy Fen, KZN’s favourite music festival, held every year over the Easter weekend. Leah Solomon gave us a glimpse into the Splashy experience.
Nothing gets a person more excited for Splashy than venturing out into the darkness at three in the morning, travelling in a severely over packed Toyota Corolla (luggage and people), with the highest speed being 80km/h, if we’re lucky. All of this misfortune is completely necessary though. On the first day, there is one main mission (aside from starting drinking as early as possible) – get a good campsite! After much difficulty with our intricate (yet luckily spacious) tent, we sat and waited for the other 20 members of the “Sarmie Army” campsite. The day and night was full of debauchery, mud, and a soundtrack made up of City Bowl Mizers, Van Coke Kartel and The La Els; a very good start to an even better Splashy.
Everything this morning was a little fragile. The campsite was quiet, while conversation was mainly made up of grunts and various profanities; a blatant sign of a good first night. However, after being to a number of Splashys, the cure for this fragility becomes far more apparent – swimming in the abnormally cold river. We made the dreaded trek down to the river, braved the icy water and came out as new people, ready for round two. Once refreshed, the smell of beer and cigarettes induces excitement rather than illness. The day progressed, with lazy lie downs in the small music tent, encounters with drunken people screaming, “To the beer tent!” And what did we do? We followed suit, naturally. Beers in hand, we headed to the rowdy drinking emporium for a night that was made even hazier due to the sheer magic produced by P.H. Fat and Niskerone. That night, we really did “get down like animals.”
Today was the day. The day most Splashy Fenners had been waiting for. Hog Hoggidy Hog would be tearing up the stage in the Grant Erskine Marquee; tonight would be on a level far beyond any other. All day consisted of pure preparation. We kept to our morning ritual down at the river; we rested our bodies and our livers whilst listening to some soothing acoustic music in the marquees; we made sure to nap ourselves to life and then emerged from our slumber as if we had just arrived at Splashy. We were ready, ready to have our minds blown and our bodies rocked by the “hogcore” goodness that explode from their amps. That was our main concern of course. Everything leading up to the gig was unrequited madness. Tripping over passed out people in the road, getting questionable alcohol poured over you and being knocked over tables just makes the experience even better. As soon as the night hit 23:15, a mass vacated the beer tent and filled up the main marquee, and stood waiting for the gig of the entire festival. I can confidently say that my face was melted by that band, and I am incredibly content with that.
A hangover and a sense of sadness clouds Splashy this morning. It’s the last day, and people are already packing up and heading home. By midday, the pathway to my campsite is almost entirely visible, so the chance of tripping over tent ropes is decreasing rapidly. However, all those who left just told us that we were the true Splashy Fenners – or just the most irresponsible. Either way, it was a fantastic last night. Drinking games were played for hours, ending in people dancing on tables, singing “The Roof is on Fire” and misbehaving profusely – the best way possible. To top it all off, I faceplanted epically, surrounded by an audience of people who had collapsed to the ground from pure hysterical laughter (it was a brilliant moment and I’m glad it happened.)
Before we knew it, Splashy was over and it was time to pack up. We all seriously considered staying an extra night just so we didn’t have to pack up at that moment. However, we all packed up, deliberately slowly – post-Splashy depression had already hit us, and we hadn’t even left. After hours of packing, we drove away, leaving a number of forgotten valuables in the tall grass. Thank you Splashy, until next year.Share