Sing with me: “It’s been seven hours and one Monday, since you took my inflatable away…aaah haa haaha haa. I can now shower whenever I waaaant, but nothin’, I said nothin’ can take away these bluuues.”
It’s the first Monday after Up The Creek 2017 and I am back at my desk-job. What am I doing here?  I close my eyes for 17 seconds and manage to bullshit myself into thinking that I am still floating on the Breede Rivier, listening to Los Tacos.
As a Pretoria Girl now living in Cape Town (show of hands if you are not from Cape Town, but scared shitless to tell Capetonians that), 2017 was the first time that I had the pleasure, neigh, the privilege to attend Up The Creek.
And what a time it was; Up The Creek, where have you been all my life? This river festival has been running for over 25 years and boy, does it show; a fantastically balanced audience of ooms and tjoms creates the perfect ratio of debauchery  vs. “I have seen things in my life that you will never understand”. Frankly, it ranks in the top 5 on the Best Festivals Equilibrium (which I have now decided is a thing).
Welcome to the Sea of Unicorns and Flamingo’s, and yes, it is as magical as it sounds. At Up The Creek you will make forced friendships – mostly because your inflatable WILL somehow latch on to that of a stranger’s, but also the amount of sheer effort it would take to escape any conversation.
You will realise what a lovely, sharing person you are too, because lighters and entjies do not mesh well with rivers – it takes pure muscle and brain power to keep ’em dry. “All hail my golden-inflatable-swan. Sure, you may use my flame. You failed in your quest…but I am a generous River King.”
At Up The Creek one of South Africa’s favourite bands makes you breakfast and presents you with a sneak preview from their new album: Shape and Form I. A bit too specific you may ask? Pics or it didn’t happen? OK… Pictured below, Taxi Violence making us a mean-ass breakfast.
Loedi’s Pulled-Pork recipe is quite possibly the second most talked about thing since Tru…ffles this year.
Aah! Don’t forget all the POMP jokes that you will hear by walking through the campsite. The free-pomp, the one-pomp-only, the moeg-gepomp, the jy pomp, ek pomp, ons pomp, pomp-aksie, pomp-die-perd, voet-pomp. It just never, ever gets old…
The bands at Up The Creek comprised of a carefully selected, varied mix with a truly diverse line-up, chances are that you will get your groove on and more importantly discover new favourites. A well planned line-up (on three different stages) ensured that time slots rarely overlapped and you had a chance to see almost every band. We were seriously impressed by The Oh So Serious, Grassy Spark, Crimson House and The Jagermeister Brass Cartel.
A few pro’s to take note of are the ample food and beverage stalls, fantastic bars, seating areas and plenty of shaded trees (if you need to escape from the boiling hot sun). Toilets and ablutions were cleaned often enough and with tickets being limited to only 2700, the crowds were manageable and made for a relaxed party weekend.
Sunday morning, I wake up to the wheezing sound of people deflating their once “sturdy” steeds. The Magical Sea of Unicorns and Flamingos now almost empty (except for Frik, who never got out, he’s okay).  As far as the eye could see, mangled birds and horses were being stripped from their majestic powers. Slowly but surely Up The Creek transformed into an inflatable graveyard. It was a sad, depressing affair. Breakfast. One last band. Pack-up. Let’s go.
10 minutes into our trek back home, we get pulled over by the metro police. Reality hits hard, but consequently I immediately decided that I will return to Up The Creek again next year. Was it sleep deprivation or did the magic rub-off? Â Routine and stability ensues and suddenly I realized 2017 is going to be okay.
Watch this space for regular updates in the Music category on Running Wolf’s Rant.
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