Our second night in Winchelsea was definitely not the same as the first.
You may recall, dear reader, that we had a little brouhaha on our first night with a bunch of kids partying on until the wee hours. Although a little annoying, it wasn’t really too much of a problem. The music was OK, they turned down the volume at midnight and it was all over by 1am.
A bunch of drunk kids having a good time.
I approve (even though they left the place a mess of empty bottles).
But last night there was a different group. The vibe was altogether different. The whole catastrophe (I reckon there was about 15-20, mainly dudes but some females) in a free-fall crescendo from 10pm onwards. The music was 10 times louder, and the behaviour 10 times more obnoxicated.
Yelling, shouting, foul language aplenty, the sounds of heavy objects being thrown around. Car engines constantly revving in an obvious desperate overcompensation for penis size.
Later it sounded like there was some fighting, perhaps a murder or two, a couple of unthrottled screaming orgasms and what sounded like a collision between a garbage truck and a Gin distillery. It was very loud. It was very intimidating.
Now this all took place at the other side of the park to where we were located, some 200 metres away. It was a Saturday night and the park was full. Between us and ground zero, there were several elderly travellers and a number of ‘family’ caravans with young kids. There was also a couple of ‘hippy’ campers containing young girls. I imagine they all had a pretty rough night.
Kelly and I lay there listening to it all. At one point we thought the police had turned up (we later found out this was not the case, and in fact the town has zero police coverage overnight). We eventually fell asleep despite the din.
Next morning I was up early. It was a beautiful foggy morning and I walked over to check out ground zero. Many of the party people had camped in swags besides their cars, some were sleeping where they fell. A few were just beginning to stir.
There were bottles and cans littering the ground, bins tipped over and grassed areas torn up with tyre tracks. Someone had built a campfire out of found objects
A couple of dudes were up and looking a little the worse for wear. So, (being the hero I am) I gave them a spray.
I then made a display of walking around photographing all their number plates, before giving them a matinée performance of the spray (because more were getting up now to see what was going on), puffing myself up with one part anger and two parts righteous sanctimony then striding away before they realised that they actually outnumbered me one million to one.
It was such a shame. A great spot spoiled by the inconsiderate actions of a group of yobs.
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