Ramfest was a continual sweat - in the back of our bakkie, on the haybales in the bar, outside, in the bathrooms, by the river...Orange pille vir die kopseer en so en so en so. A doosdronk partytjie. And in the night, with the stars and flickering fires on the hillside; strange shadows - Bacchus en al sy vriende? Jesus. Heavy. Then back to the city - through the tunnel and back to the bright lights.
And so began a slide into a week of no sleep but very, very good parties. Gooi it.
Gees.
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