Spunk and funk sees Splashy Fen 35 years on
Splashy Fen is a festival where one can tap out of the world's problems, and instead, dance a little weirder and laugh a lot louder.
Some 20 years later, I headed back to the merry mountains of Splashy Fen.
With the threat of the long Easter weekend being icy cold, with a strong chance of snow and rain, I shoved about eight bags jam-packed with jackets, scarves, gloves and gumboots into the car.
I love this time of the year in the berg; the trees are changing colour, which means it’s autumn, and there is a chill in the air.
The masses of white and pink cosmos wildly paved the way to Splashy Fen, now South Africa’s longest-running and oldest music festival.
One can actually imagine how Peter Ferraz and Bart Fokkens, after a night of red wine around a fire, decided that the farm Splashy Fen was the perfect venue to host a music festival in 1990.
What began as a small gathering of 400 music lovers has since grown into a beloved tradition attracting thousands of festival goers. In return, it rakes in millions for the KZN economy.
The South Coast’s music legend, David Marks, helped produce the early festivals.
Not surprisingly, Marks has deep roots in Splashy Fen, as he was right in the thick of the world’s greatest music festival, Woodstock, a famous three-day music festival held in Bethel, New York, in 1969.
Oh boy, has the Splashy Fen I knew 20 years ago – changed – so much.
It’s grown to be at least 10 times bigger, now with six music stages catering for hordes of party-goers.
It’s an insane operation to pull off, and this year, organisers saw 8 000 people flocking through the gates. The festival achieved full capacity before the gates opened on Thursday evening, with over 5 500 attendees already on site. Splashy Fen tickets were limited to 7 000.
It is absolutely mind-blowing to see thousands of people, a mix of young and old, congregate with one mission, ‘break free and stay human’.
By the time Friday night had rolled around, I realised I was an out-of-practise camper, and I owned an outdated wardrobe, as this year’s fashion trend was crochet and knitted pieces to cover the bits and bobs. Cold, what cold?
Camping at Splashy means no running water and no electricity, and you have to join the queue to use a portable toilet or take a hot shower. To top it off, we had planted our tent in a ditch – so the night was extremely long and bitterly cold.
With a sore back and a stiff neck on Saturday morning – we decided it was either ‘go big or go home’ – as they would say.
I turned off my cellphone, found a pair of ‘Batman bunny’ ears and joined the beautiful humans of Splashy to have some fun.
And, for the next three days, I meandered from one stage to another, listening to an incredible line-up of talented musicians (wow, does SA have talent), dancing, singing, swimming and floating on a tube down the river, sunrise yoga and soaking up glorious sunshine.
In fact, and you are warned, you can’t escape the contagious Splashy vibe – it’s pure magic!
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