Sunday, May 15, 2011

In the bush, it doesn't matter.

As of late with my new found socialism it appears I love a good bush party. It combines a lot of my favourite things. The bush, camping. doof music, strange people from around the world & overindulging with various substances. This weekends choice copius amounts of beer & weed.

I travelled out in two cars with my little sister & an assortment of backpackers. From left in the picture Julia from Canada, Leo who can really only be described as Brazilian-German who grew up in the USA, Me!, Joanna from USA, Bo from the USA, My sister, Tina from Austria, & Henrik from Germany. We arrived a little after 4pm which appeared to be early by festival standards even though it had begun at 12pm. We quickly set up our tents in what appeared to be the most entertaining spot of the festival. Beside us we had a group of people whoose origin was unknown but we believe the majority of them were Italians and therefore every time we walked past (their tent was on the way to the music) we would be greeted with "Ciao Mate". Our camping spot was entertaining mostly because of a large mud spot that formed over the night right beside us and over the time we saw many many cars get bogged. We even helped push a few out (ok I lie the boys did I just watched and smiled)

I got horrendously drunk and walked around the festival aimlessly making new friends and occasionally running into my own crew. Henrik the youngest of us all was passed out by 8pm still I wasn't about to let him sleep through the entire festival and shook him awake every chance I got. See I'm a nice couch surfing host. I have to admit he awoke again around Midnight only to discover we had run out of beer. Well perhaps that will teach him for next time ;) I had some pretty cool black light paint and decorated a young kid as a crocodile but in my over-indulged state my painting skills become even worse and the poor kid just looked like someone had smeared green paint on him. hehe.

I ran into my friends I had met and partied with until the wee hours the week before which was awesome but once again forgot to get contact details so I assume they will join my list of awesome people I know for a night and then never see again. Which is probably best because outside the subterfuge of beer are we really compatible as friends?

The partying continued until 5am where I realised I was just to exhausted to carry on dancing and everyone else had dropped like flies. So I crawled into my very comfortable tent and talked random crap with Leo for a short while before drifting off into some crazy dream like stasis which wasn't really sleeping but was more relaxing then dancing. Luckily for me there was a tent of bogans just outside who decided 4am bogan talk was ideal and therefore I got to listen to them until they finally moved on around 8am.

The next morning I went back to the dance floor and ripped it up a little more running into my very drunk Scottish friend and his even drunker irish friend. Finally a sketchy 11am rolled around and we decided to head off home where we relaxed in my house till I took Julia to the airport at 4pm.

I have to say I love a bush rave purely because people don't care where your from, what drugs you are doing, what you look like 7am in the morning. People are open minded and happy to feel the unity of a place where all the freaks congregate. Where you can be whoever and thats what I love. To much in this world depends on peoples opinions and standards and it can get really tiring trying to live up to standards. I think I want to go live in India in a monastry for a while and just be.

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