Even though Swellendam and the Breede have been welcoming festival goers since the 90's Up the Creek still remains the intimate and friendly festival that it started out as. Ticket sales were limited to 2000 to ensure that entrance and toilet queues stayed short. And they did stay short thankfully (excluding shower queues) in fact one could even elect to have company as one toilet played host to a grouping of wasps cosied up around the well stocked toilet paper. …and this conveniently brings me to the continuation of Miss Sindy Peter's story Striking Rock at Up the Creek. As it was in that exact same bathroom area where we were reunited with her and her sister after losing each other for the best part of the day. There was much celebration all round, myself and Julia quickly realising that we were not on quite the same level as the Peters sisters as they had seemed to have chugged a whole box of wine down in our absence and made haste to level the playing fields.
Then it was off to catch the-never- go- out of style Bed on Brick Boys who have been playing at Up the Creek since its inception. They didn't disappoint and managed to whip the party floor up into a frenzy of sweaty gloriousness. Sindy got an evil glint in her eye after a gentle nudge by Julia and started a mini mosh pit. Much to the horror of some gentlemen behind us who pleaded with us “To calm down ladies” but there was no calming down it was Bed on Bricks and Mike was singing I know I know I know I know I know I know I know I know I know what you goaaht.
After a quick recovery in some blissfully cooling rain it was back into the sticky tent to get dirty once again with the Dirty Skirts. The skirts mostly played songs from their latest album Daddy don't disco and ended off their set with the ever popular Punch a hole in this Saturday night. Tuckered out we headed back to the tents to recoup for The Rudimentals but alas energy waned and people passed out and the Rudi's were missed.
Sunday morning we awoke very very early to a beautiful sunrise and a marginally shorter shower queue. We cleverly packed up in the early hours and then headed down to the Breede for some swimming and floating before attempting the long hot drive back. The River Gods answered our prayers again (they had sent us a lovely tube the day before) and sent us two more to gently float down the river in. All in all the best way to end any festival. Happy 25th Up the Creek, till next year.
