It’s the end of the world as we know it… (Part 1 of the Festival Chronicles)

It’s Festival time, folks. And you all know what that means. Grahamstown becomes a gathering point for about 30 000 crazy festinos – either first timers, or hardened fans who’ve been coming here since the first days of Fest.

And my dear little town – with easy to find parking, relatively empty streets, and a Pick ‘n Pay that’s pretty much fully stocked most of the time – all of that is gone. Replaced with hundreds and hundreds of people all looking to move as slowly as possible.

I kid you not.

This year I’m working with Die Burger Online (a Media24 production), and it looks like it’s going to be all kinds of crazy. I’ve never been into this hardcore Arts and Entertainment reporting, to be honest. I mean, it’s fun and all – and I love drama and the arts, but trying to produce a 3-minute online video piece….? Er, okay…

But I’m trying, and I’m learning. And I forgot the most important thing about journalism: nothing, and I mean nothing, ever goes according to plan.

This morning I wandered around Grahamstown on a walking tour – Saints, Sinners and Students, it was entitled. And I had this great idea planned in my head – and after being on the tour for ten minutes, I got that sinking feeling in my stomach which meant that my great idea was rapidly dissolving. Really, really rapidly.

So onto plan B. And to begin planning Plan C. Always fun.

So here’s to Festival. Here’s to litres of coke, red bull. Here’s to kilograms of chocolate, to piles of sweets. To having no quota left, no airtime left, no time left.

And here’s thanks to the people I know are going to be frustrated by my possibly 12 – 16 hour long days.

Watch this space. I’ll type if I have my sanity.

Oh, and did I mention I haven’t spoken any Afrikaans since high school? Hahahaha.