Shooters and shots in the dark at Plett party
But school of 1980s hankers after cheaper, less commercial days
ALL ABOARD: Jubilant partygoers flock to Plettenberg Bay in whatever transport is available FOR 51 weeks of the year, Plettenberg Bay is a playground for the well-heeled, rich and famous. But for one week each year it is a magnet for almost every 18-year-old in a 1 000km radius. They have one thing on their mind: to PARTY.
That week is now officially under way, with about 10 000 matriculants due to descend on the scenic coastal town over the coming week.
The Sunday Times toured the clubs where teens stared sheepishly across dance floors at potential partners for a summer fling. Some felt exploited by the commercialisation of what used to be a spontaneous event.
“So far we’ve been ripped off,” said Plett local and Grade 12 pupil Bonnie Collins in Flashbacks, the main club in town.
Kristin Groenewald, another local matriculant, said: “It has a really good vibe, but you can’t get to VIP [the official Plett Rage event venue] unless you first buy a token. It used to be very different, but now they take money at every point.”
At one point during Friday night’s debauchery, the crowd started screaming “Whup that ass!” in unison for no reason other than impulse, to which an astonished bartender commented: “What a cultured bunch.”
Plett has been one of the key venues for the annual matric Rage since the early ’80s.
Murray McWilliams, who is now a businessman, attended the event in 1987 said he was “nostalgically jealous” of his twin nephews who will be at this year’s Plett Rage. His experience had been so good he’d be worried if his own children didn’t attend one day.
“About 12 friends and I rented a house and we drank so much we must have increased the SAB RIGHT MOVES: The dance floor is the place to expend energy and maybe find a new friend ready for a fling share price that week,” he said. “We built a pyramid of beer bottles in the house and after a few of us got home late one night and annoyed a friend, he smashed the pyramid and was left cleaning up 400 Black Label bottles the next day.
“It was about pretty girls and tequila shots. We drank on the beach all day and partied to live music at night.”
His friend, Cape Town business owner Ian Gray, said he had travelled from Port Elizabeth to Plett on the back of a bakkie with friends and recalls that drinking and driving then was “not really an issue”.
“There weren’t any cops. We surfed all day and drank all night. I don’t think it’s much different from today. The drugs might have changed,” he joked, adding that there was dagga and the odd person using acid, but IT’S A BUMMER: Youngsters feel the heat and adjust their dress as the Plett Rage mood takes control that they hadn’t even heard of drugs such as cocaine and ecstasy then.
He said matrics used to hang out around the pool at the Formosa Inn during the day and make a huge bonfire on the beach for the night’s revelry.
A businesswoman who asked not to be named said that when she matriculated in 1988, there were “only two hang-out spots” — the Formosa Inn and The Cave. One is now a retirement home, the other a guesthouse.
“It wasn’t anything like it is today. We were given R200 for drinks. We didn’t go to get drunk, we went to be with friends. It was more innocent.
“A few years ago I was sitting in a coffee shop in the Plett town centre and these teens rolled up in a [VW] Touareg with GP number plates and I overheard them talking about how much money their parents had given them and it was something like R25 000 each.”
A reveller who skipped Plett to party at Hermanus years ago said: “I went down to Hermanus with my family recently and wound up at a nice, civilised beachfront restaurant. Slowly, the penny began to drop and I realised I was at Piet se Bos.
“The memories of 20 years ago came flashing back. The drunken debauchery and general, feral craziness. One guy wound up smoking my friend’s migraine medicine out of a broken bottle top. Someone else stole a chicken. I drank so much Archers Peach County Schnapps I had to be carried back to camp, projectile-vomiting all the way.”
This year’s Plett Rage Freedom Pass, which gets matrics into various venues, costs R1 300. It includes access to performances by Jack Parow and bands including PHfat and Goldfish. Despite the feeling that hankers after a “purer” experience, most people seemed undisturbed by the price.
Ronen Klugman, the brains behind Plett Rage, said he and friends had driven to Plett in 2000 after hearing that matrics had been celebrating the end of school there since the ’80s. “It wasn’t mainstream. It wasn’t part of youth culture. I found out recently it’s now one of the 30 Seconds questions.” — Additional reporting by Farren Collins
We drank on the beach all day and partied to live music at night