A fish out of water

I must firstly apologise because I left my camera at home which means there are very few photos of this night which is the biggest shame! But for your enjoyment I did try to find some on the Internet that would accurately describe events and places. 

White people can't dance! At least one photo survived the night ...

So apparently nobody goes out in Durban on a Friday night. I found this out the hard way. But it didn't matter because my friends and I were off to the yacht club to a farewell party. It was Blake the Snake’s farewell and this guy seriously knows how to get rid of a shit load of alcohol. This was my kind of party, you know - the kind where the alcohol is free and the people are amazing. There really is nothing better than a good drink with friends. The problem is that my friends and I can’t just have a nice sit-down party without doing something really fun and stupid. So it was getting towards the end of the night and things were winding down. We had been making fun of the gigantic stuffed Marlin in the club hall when suddenly a plan was hatched! We decided that the Marlin looked sad and needed to come live at my friend Turk’s house. So we set up an elaborate plan to distract the guard (I did this by talking to him about the pros and cons of being a sea horse) and Lulu and Turk snuck the Marlin through the back door and into Turk’s car. Unfortunately the Marlin was so damn big the tip of its beak got snapped off in the car door. The Marlin took prize place on the wall above the pool table at Turk’s. We had about half an hour’s worth of fun with it by placing various
objects in an around its mouth and inevitably we were board again.

Just imagine Marlin with an assortment of cheeses in his mouth and you get the idea.

So when all else fails in Durban, Florida Road is one of my favourite places. So off we went to Florida Road. We got there and guess what? Most of my favourite bars weren't open because most of Durban parties on a Saturday. Fuuuk.

... and we all recognise Florida Road

We found a bar thought and it was cool, but not really great. I got pushed by some juiced up Guido Jersey Shore wannabe man and obviously this was not my ideal way to spend the night.

These guys tried to start
a fight with me

So we left the bar in hot pursuit of a better venue. We were standing on the pavement busy discussing our options when a loud noise caught our attention. In the tall block of flats on the opposite side of the road there was obviously a massive party going on at the top floor. So, reassessing our options, we decided that the only way we were going to have fun was by crashing that party. We go to the gate and with some very clever detective work we found the flat number and pressed their intercom. We saw that the party was in full swing by the amount of people dancing and partying on the balcony. A man answered the intercom. “Hello” We said, “are you having a party”?  “Yes” the man responded, “I am so sorry. We will try to and keep it down”. We told him that we actually wanted to come and party with him. After a short pause he said that he would be right down. This man was my hero. This was the real Mzansi spirit. He didn't know any of us but he was willing to share his party. What a champ!

He fetched us and took us all up to his suit. There were about ten of us whiteys and we arrived at a huge house party.  Everybody stopped and stared - not only because we were strangers’ gate crashing, but because out of the two hundred and something strong crowd we were the only white people. After about a second of silence we are openly welcomed by everyone with warm smiles and open arms. The music started up again and we were handed ice-cold beers. We spent the night dancing and chatting and drinking and laughing. This is what I would call a party.

This is what happens when you let white people into your party.

I just have to say that if we gate crashed a white person’s party we probably would have been assaulted and sent to hospital. I have never felt such warmth and love from strangers. Black people know how to party – and they party hard and with style. We white people can’t dance and we certainly don’t like to share. So next time you find yourself with nothing to do, go find a ‘black party’ I guarantee you the best night ever! This is such a wonderful country filled with wonderful, different people; let’s get to know our neighbours!

Dat ass. ..

Oh and that Marlin... The following morning whilst we were all nursing a hangover, Turk had to return him because somehow when the yacht club noticed the empty space on the wall where the Marlin used to be – They knew we had something to do with it. Apparently stuffed Marlins are quite expensive!