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Ferragosto Jam definitely is 5 days of ecstatic fun in every way you can imagine. If you experience it – you will never forget it! Eight years ago, I unwillingly attempted my very first Ferragosto Jam. My dumbass sons, who, by the way, were eighteen and fourteen back then, bought the tickets without a single clue about where they are going and what it means to spend a couple of days in nature, surrounded by thousands crowded in tents.
Since those unbelievable three days on the lake crowded with hundreds of ecstatic young men and women, we never missed a single event even though the only guy who’s probably older than me is that poor bastard who’s picking plastic bottles and cans from dusk till dawn, five days in a roll.
As you can expect, once those two numbnuts finally got the guts to inform us about their plans, the wife didn’t even want to hear about them going there by themselves.
“How can you expect them to go alone when neither of them knows how to set up the tent, let alone to find their bearings?”
It was a legit argument and the one that forced me into a car and en route to the town of Orahovica and the nearby lake where the festival was being held.
I was imagining hundreds of kids who are getting off on the sounds of electronic music all pumped with designer drugs. Not exactly my kind of jam as you can imagine. The very idea of spending an hour surrounded by the bunch of wasted kids wasn’t exactly my idea of a great time.
My worst fears came true when, after following handwritten signs (I mean, whaaat???), I drove up to the hill, on the bumpiest freakin’ road ever, in the middle of this group of, what could only be described as, heavily weeded Rastafarians. My God that was just too many colors on their hairs and clothes…
Apparently, that was the site of the Ferragosto Camp my kids bought tickets for. It was some clearing above the lake under the unforgiving sun. A few of them were sitting in some ruins around the big fire. Five youngsters without a single care in the world who didn’t seem to mind the fact that it’s noon on a sunny and freakin’ burning summer day. A bonfire was there just in case, I guess.
The expression on my kids’ faces when they saw the scene was, well, unforgettable. The younger one looked like he’s stepping in front of the death squad. Neither of them has attended a similar event before. So there was no way in hell that they could prep themselves for such a scene.
“Well, my boys, here we are. Pick the spot and let’s set up those tents.” I said with the vicious smile on my face, happy that I was right about the whole thing.
Now, to paint you a better picture, imagine thousands on Copa Cabana squeezed on the area no larger than a medium-sized backyard. That’s how freakin’ crowded was there. You couldn’t squeeze in a sleeping bag let alone two small tents.
I took a swift look at the mirror just to see their faces. The younger one could hardly suppress bursting in tears. He was genuinely afraid.
“OK, I guess we’ll have to find a more suitable place down at the lake. How about that?” I asked.
You can’t even imagine the relief they felt when my words finally arrived into their dumbass brains.
An hour later, we found just a perfect spot some fifty yards from a concrete lakeshore, under the shade of these large junipers.
The place was getting crowded by the minute even though we arrived a day before the scheduled beginning of the three-day event. Kids were happy. The wife was happy. And I was happy to finally start the engine and get back home in front of my TV.
Now, here’s the kicker.
On our way back, the wife asked me to stop at the mall. She had to get something.
Three cigarettes later and there she is, carrying a familiar package. Something resembling a tent. And lo and behold, it was the tent.
“Care to explain?” I asked in anticipation of her answer. I mean, there weren’t two reasons for buying yet another camping pack and I was painfully aware of it.
“As soon as I close the salon, we are getting back.”
It was a brief and direct order.
That night, I couldn’t get any sleep. It was simply overwhelming. Different sounds, crowd, laughter, chatter…impossible to relax. Yet, my wife was sleeping like a baby. So I got out of the tent and sat at the small camping table.
It was the best decision of the year, I’m telling you.
First, I hear some strange rumble on my left. A beer basket trembling down the improvised steep stairs that were decently muddy from all the water hundreds of feet carried from the lake. A moment later, a dude, tumbling down trying to catch his beer before it hits the concrete lakeshore.
I didn’t even manage to catch my breath after literally rolling on the floor laughing when I saw another dude tumbling down and the beer basket following him. My God what a scene.
But it was far from over.
Just imagine hundreds of heavily intoxicated young people trying to keep their cool and control their movements on Ferragosto Jam. The best night ever.
And then, around 4 a.m., my left eye caught a glimpse of something I haven’t seen in a while. A butt. A naked butt of a barely legal blonde. Freakin’ two yards away from me. She grabbed the birch tree, flash me with her ass, and didn’t stop pissing for an entire minute. Too many beers, I guess.
A couple of minutes later, another one. Then another one. Then two of them together, holding each other’s hands.
I couldn’t believe what’s happening just a few yards from me.
Then I realized where my tent really was. Ten yards to the right of the only bar at that side of the lake. Toilets were just too far away for most of them and that birch tree just two yards from my tent was a perfect spot to take a whiz. I was afraid to get back inside the tent because someone might piss right over me and my wife.
And it went on like that night after night until Sunday when, sadly, the festival was over and we were all packing our tents, leaving the lake to the locals to enjoy a Sunday swim and catch some sun.
Needless to say that we are coming back to Ferragosto Jam year after year ever since.
Each upcoming year was carrying something new. Each upcoming event beat the shit out of the previous. What started as a three-day party of alternative and underground music with just one central stage and a few performers, evolved into a five-day international festival with like six different stages and the impressive lineup. We even made friends with a bunch of kids. They call us Mommy and Daddy because we always carry enough of toilet paper and, of course, smokes.
Bottom line, if there is a single festival that you simply must attend, that’s Ferragosto Jam on the lake Duzluk near Orahovica in eastern Croatia. Freakin’ awesome!!!
If you need help getting tickets, direction or even slightly better accommodation in bungalows or apartments, give us a call and we’ll organize everything for you and your group.
See you there!!
Your CTC TGeam, I.K.
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