An Ode To Splendour
Iâ€™ve really enjoyed getting to know you over the past four years and I think weâ€™ve both grown a lot and I thank you for that. You taught me so much about myself, about life, love and loss.
You taught me that wiping my entire body with home brand baby wipes in the comfort of your tent, half bent down because you canâ€™t actually stand up straight, was just as satisfying as a warm shower, if not more so.
You taught me how to function on very little sleep; my body fuelled by alcohol, sausages, the odd packet of sultanas and Coles-brand muesli bars and yet somehow waking up in the morning with no hangover â€“ it truly is magic.
You taught me that the first drink is always the hardest and needs to be a concoction of goon and juice, which provides just enough nutrition to see you through the day.
You taught me that sausages can serve as breakfast, lunch and dinner but if you choose to keep them in an Esky, you will need to replace the ice regularlyâ€¦this is of the highest importance.
You taught me how to sustain all day drinking, and how to smuggle illicit substancesâ€¦ fake-bottomed bags, that sometimes holding said substances in plain sight is just crazy enough to work and of course the classic: strapped to your body. If youâ€™re anything like me, youâ€™ll attempt to smuggle in not just alcohol, but your mixers as wellâ€¦You donâ€™t want to waste good drink tickets on mixers, this is foolish and naÃ¯ve.
You taught me that the Moroccan Wine Bar makes an excellent meeting point. Once youâ€™ve been reunited with your Splendour group, you can celebrate over a couple of bottles of Splendourâ€™s signature wine.
And you taught me that sometimes nature calls at the most inconvenient times, for example when Florence is about 10 minutes away and The Stokes are on afterwards. If your armed with a water bottle, youâ€™re in luck, but keep in mind this will only work for those with the best of aim. This is a true story and I was there, and no it wasnâ€™t me. The unidentified male took my water bottle, emptied its contents and relieved himself. Although instead of ending up in the bottle, the very, very unlucky girl in front of us looked around and then up to the sky and asked, â€œis it raining?â€ It wasnâ€™t rainingâ€¦
What to do when it actually rains
If it rains, which it usually does, youâ€™ll need to come equipped with garbage bags. For those who were at Splendour last year, youâ€™ll understand the importance of double bagging your feet. For the uninitiated, this means wrapping your feet in two shopping bags to ensure you donâ€™t get trench footâ€¦ it could happen. Alternatively, bring gumboots.
Splendour is after all, a place for music lovers so itâ€™s no surprise that love blossoms between friends and strangers alike. What could be more romantic than a proposal at Splendour? Thatâ€™s right, young love blossoming in the Satay Hut. The young couple were surrounded by their friends, who were singing the romantic chorus of the Bloodhound Gang â€“ The Bad Touch. A truly magical moment.
Every year Splendour throws me a curve ball; last year I lost my hat in the mud. It was literally stuck in the mud, but it wasnâ€™t fun. We may lose articles of clothing, hats, shoes, bags, phones, and money but we all lose a little of our dignity and boy it feels oh-so good.
Even when I go home, reminders of you are everywhere, my manky wristband that I canâ€™t bare myself to take off, the smokey smell that lingers on literally everything you own and have touched over those 3 magical days, the mud stained socks, which by the way will never, ever come out. And sometimes, months later Iâ€™ll search my room for one gleaming drop of water because Iâ€™m drier than a desert. Iâ€™ll pull out a water bottle from under my bed; unaware of its history and drink like a working dog in 40-degree heat only to realize Iâ€™ve just drunk vodka. Itâ€™s a bittersweet moment, but mostly bitter.
And each year as the line up is released and the opportunity to see the artists that we most admire, as we develop craftier ways to sneak in illicit substances, and as our boarder-line alcoholism grows, our love of the place and the time that is Splendour grows enormously.
And remember, â€˜when in doubt, chink it outâ€™.