Last weekend B and I joined Francis and his cousins at Wild Foods Festival in Hokitika; a festival of wild and crazy foods from around the world ranging from wild venison to goat testicles and shots of horse semen (true story, gross, I refused to try it). Everyone dresses up for this event in various costumes and crams into one of the few available campsites in Hokitika for a weekend of drinking and making your friends eat gross foods. All good fun 🙂
Being as prepared as I am, I forgot our tickets for the festival…and our sleeping bags and tent…so we had to turn around and get them. Oh and I also didn’t book the campsite in time so we just had to hope for the best when we showed up at the gate to book a campsite last minute. Fortunately everything turned out ok and they granted us a camping spot. Good thing too, that place was packed! There were tents as far as the eye could see all the way down to the beach. Our tiny little tent was made for maybe 2 people, which was fine since it was going to be just B and I. Plans changed, however, when Francis unfolds his tent only to find that he has no poles. And here he was dishing out jabs at me for not being prepared earlier. Huh, whaddya know. cough*karmasabitch*cough
After setting up camp, settling in, and a few rather strong vodka cranberries, we all decided to wander down to the beach and check out some of the bonfires we had seen earlier. All was well until B and I reached the rocks that you need to climb down to get to the beach and here…tragedy struck.
*Let me preface this story with a quick little anecdote from our Valentines Day camping trip (which I will tell in full detail whenever I get around to it). Maia and I were making our way up the hill to grab something from the car and we fell into a moment of fear and paranoia which prompted Maia, who was holding my hand, to yell, “Run!” and take off up the hill. We only got about 2 steps before Maia tripped and fell face first into the ground, scraping her knee. I couldn’t stop laughing and she dissolved into a drunken, childlike whiney state of self-pity. I have mocked her ever since.
This, my dear readers, is yet another example of karma. Only this time it was aimed my way. Halfway down the rocks I took a tumble. I slipped, took flight, and landed on my bum only to slide the rest of the way down the rock and jam my foot into yet another rock. What did I do? You guessed it…I dissolved into a drunken, childlike whiney state of self-pity. I sat there huddled into a wee little ball, holding my toe and sniveling while rocking back and forth.
“B! ..B…mehmehmehmehehe..my toooeee…and my ass. Oh my- B….look at it. Just, is it bad? Does it look bad?”
I proceeded to somewhat stand, still bent over holding my toe, and make B look at the damage that had been done to my butt in the dim, flickering flame’s light cast over by the nearby fire; all while pathetically whimpering the whole time.
Silence. And then, finally, “…nope. No…it…it’s not that bad?”
Well it certainly felt bad, and upon waking up the next morning and checking it out, I could see that my poor booty was quite a bit scraped up. B later apologized for lying to me but I was so upset already she didn’t want to make it worse. Her and I also both woke up fairly wet..turns out our tent is so far from waterproof it feels like it rained on the inside even if it was a crystal clear night, and we slept pressed up against the sides because Francis took the middle and slept on his back which left us with next to no room. Oh, and the next day we discovered that someone in our group slept alone…in his massive tent…on a mattress.
After going to grab coffee and breakfast we all got ready for the festival. Our group went as cavemen and cavewomen but we met Batman, Spiderman, TMNT, Duff girls, bananas in pajamas (so cool!), the mad hatter, and various other cave people along the way-just to name a few. We spent the day hanging out with new friends from the campground and taking pictures with everyone in their cool costumes.
Despite trying our very best, as a group we spent
a decent amount of time together about 2 minutes together before getting separated at the festival, but so it goes when you try to herd around a rather sizeable party of cave people. Fortunately we were all able to reunite on the beach at our campsite later that afternoon in time for dinner and drinks. It was fun to swap stories, photos and videos later anyway. 🙂
Since I underestimated how pricey everything would be once we actually got into the festival I ended up spending my money on moonshine and beer. While I myself didn’t eat anything nasty (which I almost kind of regret..I might have been able to stomach a snail or two. Maybe), B and I forced Francis to eat a live huhu grub. He shoveled it into his mouth and swallowed it down before we even had a chance to get a photo or even have a proper gloat over it. Shame.
There were more bonfires and drunken adventures that night. B passed out early and I disappeared from everyone to go for a wander where I made friends with a dog and met some fire jugglers. It was pretty epic, actually, and I was in bed by about midnight haha. I awoke a few hours later to go get more water and, much to my amusement, I found Francis passed out on the concrete, next to the tent, cocooned in his blanket. I foolishly told him he could sleep in our tent and, once again, woke up the next morning pressed against a dripping tent wall. To make matters even worse…I left my one and only jacket outside on the grass, so it was also soaked in morning dew and unwearable.
Overall, it was an excellent weekend adventure away from Christchurch and on the West Coast! 🙂