Boatraces!

Imagine you just got off a nine hour bus trip. You feel and look like Hell. There in front of you stand two good looking guys to pick you and your friends, Sally and Dan, up. The one looks vaguely familiar and jokes around. Pretending to have an Afrikaans name. The other one is an army boy, clearly given the weekend off. They struggle with your luggage and then you have about 5 mins to select a weekend’s worth of supplies and clothes. You end up at a digs at the edge of town where you are greeted by a guy who has at one point been called “the handsomest guy on campus.” Mr. Handsome shakes my hand, despite the fact that we had already met six times in the course of our two years at Rhodes.

Finally we are off to Port Alfred for BoatRaces! We end up in Mr. Army’s car and it’s clear that he wants to get there in good time. I hold tight to the handle of the car as we speed on at 180km/h. Even before I knew about his advanced driving course I figured that he valued his own life enough not to do something stupid. Once in Port Alfred we are directed to a caravan park, with a bizarrely large amount of security and wait around for the rest of our friends to arrive with our tents. When they arrive we set up our tents, change into our overalls, mix our drinks and head off to the River…

Just a a bit of background. Boatraces or the Mutual & Federal Universities Boatrace is an Rowing Regatta held annually in Port Alfred in which universities from across the county take part in. The event, and I quote, has “legendary status amongst South African students and the festivities are something every student should experience at least once.”

When we walked to the river all you could see was white and purple everywhere! So many familiar faces of people that I don’t actually know appear in front me. The guys from our camp had somehow gotten their hands on a megaphone, which they used to sing out drinking songs and obscenities. The megaphone also had a handy like siren attached to it, which meant that we barely lost each other in the first hour; we just had to listen out for the siren!

Alcohol spray gun

Arriving at the camp site we spot a giant RedBull monster truck on which the DJ was situated. We jammed on a platform for a bit and walked on. Walking along the river bank we spot a group of close friends from Goldfields chilling in the sun so we join them and actually watch a few of the races. Rhodes may have fallen out of the race by the time we arrive, but we had the “Gees!” All around people very drinking and dancing and call of “RHODENTS!”  could be heard. One guy from NMNU, who was on crushes due to a broken foot, had taped a water gun filled with alcohol to one of his crutches and was offering us all some!

Illyssa and Travis on his bike

The American Exchange students join us and we all wrote sweet, and obscene messages on each other’s overalls. My friend Illyssa even got a chance to take her first motor cycle trip around the campsite (at quite a slow pace, but still.) The portable toilets were disgusting and pretty soon we were off back to camp for a quick braai. Naturally Mr. Afrikaans braaied while Mr. Army stabbed all our overalls with a knife.

We headed back to the main campsite just as the sun was going down and again we sat by the river bank with the Goldfield’s boys. The light that reflected off the river at that time was so romantic, despite the fact that I was fifth wheeling it at this point. So I helped my friends carry their friend, “The fireman” as Kate, Roxy  and I affectionately call him ( I mean he is a hottie), to their tent and tuck him into bed. Next stop: The Lounge. This dirty and strange club, which basically looked like a barn, was the centre of the festivities for the night.

At this part of the story I just have mention Murray King, one of the coolest friends I have, who basically let me eat his food and chill in his car and listen to Bob Dylan when I wanted a break from the Lounge. This is also the friend who helped me up when I fell on my face in front of everyone! <3

As I always do, I lost Sally and Dan and ended up at the Goldfield’s campsite. To my surprise The Fireman had made a comeback and was happily, and loudly, singing drinking songs. “Not fit for a lady…which you are Elri,” he says as he blocks my ears. ;)

Back to the Lounge where we jammed at the RedBull truck, danced in the barn, and some on the bar itself, flirted, laughed, sat by the river; and by the fire and sent off the holiday with a bang!

The Exchange students, Sally, Dan and I with Rhodie, the Rhodes mascot! 

Finally two of my friends agreed to walk me back to the caravan park so that I didn’t have to tackle in the dark alone. As I got into the tent I basically tripped over Mr. Afrikaans, who was fast asleep at the door of our tent. Clearly it didn’t end well with the girl I saw him with earlier. I could just imagine what was going on in Mr. Handsome’s car, considering the dodgy sounds that were emanating from that direction, so I just pulled the blanket over my head and hoped that I wouldn’t snore and embarrass myself in front of Mr. Afrikaans.

The next day I made my way back to the main campsite to check that everyone was still alive over there. Not surprised to find a few people passed on the grass and a few who hadn’t slept at all. The campsite was look particularly apocalyptic. What did surprise me was the fact that so many hung-over people had made it up by 7am and were already on their way back to G-town!

So I scrubbed the mud, purple paint and marker Yolo’s off me and had to get back to reality. But what an experience! Tent buddies next year, anyone?

The Kowie River view! <3