Which side of me will win?

Metalcamp 2012: Pizza Mind

The next day it’s hot. Perfect weather for walking a mile into town to get pizza. It’s not though, of course, but that’s what we do anyway. I sweat even more than I had done the previous day. I’m nearly drowning in it. Ah well, it’ll be river time soon.

I soon learn from my friends that ‘going for pizza’ is a euphemism for ‘taking a big shit’. We do go to a pizzeria, but the pizza is a little secondary bonus really, compared to the main event: the opportunity to sit on a proper flushing toilet for ten minutes and relax. I don’t take a big shit – alas, it wouldn’t be rushed – but I still take a turn sitting on the proper flushing toilet for ten minutes and relaxing.

It’s during this first visit to the pizzeria that I am exposed for the first time to Slovenes’ shocking habit of putting ketchup on pizza. I don’t mean using ketchup instead of pasata, although some unscrupulous bakeries here do actually do that, and I don’t mean dipping the crusts in it. No, I mean squirting loads of it all over the whole pizza. I’m too polite to say anything at the time, but inside I am truly appalled.

My pizza has yoghurt on it, which is also a bit weird. But then it is a kebab pizza, so it kinda makes sense. Kebab pizza, by the way, is considered a perfectly normal kind of pizza here, and not a slightly shameful, only-when-you’re-drunk, dirty kind of a pizza only ever bought late at night from a grubby kebab shop and never from a self-respecting pizza restaurant, as it is in the UK.

This was taken later in the week, on a day when every single person in this photo needed to take a big shit at the same time.

When we’ve all filled up and/or emptied our tummies it’s back to camp and then, thank fuck, to the Soča to cool down and rinse off several coatings of sweat. We go to a beach that I’ve never been to during either of my previous visits to Metalcamp. It’s a little way upstream from the festival site where the river is wider, shallower and much faster flowing. It’s a fairly long and yes, sweaty, walk to get there, and when we finally arrive I immediately run straight into the water panting and barking like an overheated dog. I can’t find words to accurately describe the feeling of ecstasy and euphoria I get from splashing around in the ice cold water after two of the sweatiest days of my life. It’s just fucking beautiful.

The festival still hasn’t started yet and the beach is very, very quiet, with only a few other small groups of early arrivers hanging around and chilling out. We pretty much have the place to ourselves for the whole afternoon and it is sheer bliss. Bine, Kat, Marko and I go on a little expedition to the far bank, while Ŝmon paddles up and down the beach drinking beer, smoking fags and slowly getting sunburnt.

Getting across isn’t exactly easy thanks to the powerful current. It’s stony underfoot so it’s very easy to lose your balance and fall over, and once you’re down it’s a right bugger to get back on your feet again. But we all make it intact because we’re well ‘ard.

On the other side we find treasure. Well, not treasure exactly… it’s more like mud really. Which is to say it is mud. But you can really have some fun with mud if you put your mind to it. For example, you can smear it all over your face and body, or you can throw big handfuls of it at your friends. At some point during the inevitable mud fight, someone has a great idea – we should recreate the bit in this Sepultura video…

…where they’re all covered in mud. We don’t though, deciding instead to execute our plan on another day instead. But then we never did get around to it. Next year though, we promise.


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