School- en Volksfeest (cont.)
Just a few impressions of 4 days of partying
Thursday night: Quiet evening in the beer tent, locals get together for a quiet drink, some live music, only had half a dozen before retreating to bed at 2.30am.
Friday morning: Last day at work. Ride in an old fashioned trolley, music, booze and comedian included. Had to drive home, so only had a couple of shots I could not refuse. School holidays have started officially now.
Friday night: First big night in the beer tent. Thousands of people celebrate together, had a good night together with some friends from the football team, started in the pub, joined the celebrations later. As they don't serve spirits, had to bring my hipflask full of rum. Great night.
Saturday morning: At 9am, we are back at the pub. Only a couple of hours sleep, but a lot of dedication. We sit outside, though it is still chilly. Alcohol (from 9.15 onwards) and breakfast (BBQ from 9.30 and on) warm us up.
Saturday afternoon: Children's parade goes by, we already had too much booze to seriously appreciate it, though the bad behaviour stays out. We played a traditional game: get twenty soft ice cones, then put somebody in the middle of the street with the pants down and throw the ice at his bottom. Bystanders do not really believe their eyes. We manage to drink until four, then go to the fun fair and a couple more in the beer tent.
Saturday night: A quick one hour nap and it's back on the road again. The beer tent is full of people I don't know, so it's back to the pub, where we finish the night with a couple more drinks. Just a few. Back in bed at 4 am.
Sunday morning: The lack of sleep takes its toll, it is very difficult to get up in time, but I have to, we're participating in the huge parade. After eating one sandwich, with great difficulties, I get glue on my face, followed directly by a huge fake moustache that'll bother me for the rest of the day. There are 25 of us in our group, so the grieve can be shared at least. We agree that 87 times cunnilingus still gives you fewer hairs in your mouth than one afternoon with this moustache.
Sunday afternoon: We are tired when we start the parade, but we still give a great show. We're pretending to ride ostriches, a weird army. The weight of the body with the fake legs around our middles, the woolly hats, it sure looked beautiful, but we're sweating like pigs. The crowd loves it though, everywhere we go and do our little show of marching and attacking, we get a huge crowd reaction, plenty of applause.
Sunday evening: We are back in the tent, there is about 100 of us, my football club, including the thirty who made the parade work for us. We win first price. The General of our little ostrich army picks up the price, together with his little sister. A couple of months ago their father died, he used to be in charge of our delegation in the parade. Now he took over and we beat the favourites. Tears cannot be avoided. After that, we celebrate with a few more drinks until midnight. My hipflask is empty half an hour before that. Another half a litre of rum gone.
Sunday night: Semi spontaneous street party after our local anthem was played for the 26th and last time. I eat a last burger in the street, but can't enjoy it anymore. Knackered I stroll back home, my feet aching from the distances walked today.
Monday morning: Good nights of sleep, another shower, I feel not too bad. Until I want to greet my mom half an hour later and hear a strange squeaky sound. No voice left. No rum either. Great weekend though. Only 362 days until the next School- en Volksfeest.
Thursday night: Quiet evening in the beer tent, locals get together for a quiet drink, some live music, only had half a dozen before retreating to bed at 2.30am.
Friday morning: Last day at work. Ride in an old fashioned trolley, music, booze and comedian included. Had to drive home, so only had a couple of shots I could not refuse. School holidays have started officially now.
Friday night: First big night in the beer tent. Thousands of people celebrate together, had a good night together with some friends from the football team, started in the pub, joined the celebrations later. As they don't serve spirits, had to bring my hipflask full of rum. Great night.
Saturday morning: At 9am, we are back at the pub. Only a couple of hours sleep, but a lot of dedication. We sit outside, though it is still chilly. Alcohol (from 9.15 onwards) and breakfast (BBQ from 9.30 and on) warm us up.
Saturday afternoon: Children's parade goes by, we already had too much booze to seriously appreciate it, though the bad behaviour stays out. We played a traditional game: get twenty soft ice cones, then put somebody in the middle of the street with the pants down and throw the ice at his bottom. Bystanders do not really believe their eyes. We manage to drink until four, then go to the fun fair and a couple more in the beer tent.
Saturday night: A quick one hour nap and it's back on the road again. The beer tent is full of people I don't know, so it's back to the pub, where we finish the night with a couple more drinks. Just a few. Back in bed at 4 am.
Sunday morning: The lack of sleep takes its toll, it is very difficult to get up in time, but I have to, we're participating in the huge parade. After eating one sandwich, with great difficulties, I get glue on my face, followed directly by a huge fake moustache that'll bother me for the rest of the day. There are 25 of us in our group, so the grieve can be shared at least. We agree that 87 times cunnilingus still gives you fewer hairs in your mouth than one afternoon with this moustache.
Sunday afternoon: We are tired when we start the parade, but we still give a great show. We're pretending to ride ostriches, a weird army. The weight of the body with the fake legs around our middles, the woolly hats, it sure looked beautiful, but we're sweating like pigs. The crowd loves it though, everywhere we go and do our little show of marching and attacking, we get a huge crowd reaction, plenty of applause.
Sunday evening: We are back in the tent, there is about 100 of us, my football club, including the thirty who made the parade work for us. We win first price. The General of our little ostrich army picks up the price, together with his little sister. A couple of months ago their father died, he used to be in charge of our delegation in the parade. Now he took over and we beat the favourites. Tears cannot be avoided. After that, we celebrate with a few more drinks until midnight. My hipflask is empty half an hour before that. Another half a litre of rum gone.
Sunday night: Semi spontaneous street party after our local anthem was played for the 26th and last time. I eat a last burger in the street, but can't enjoy it anymore. Knackered I stroll back home, my feet aching from the distances walked today.
Monday morning: Good nights of sleep, another shower, I feel not too bad. Until I want to greet my mom half an hour later and hear a strange squeaky sound. No voice left. No rum either. Great weekend though. Only 362 days until the next School- en Volksfeest.