A couple hundred people gathered and milled about in between two music stages (one powered entirely by solar). Street punks, hippies, and bougie middle class australians all gathered together, some with political agenda of supporting an anti-poliitcal event, some to get a good bargin and some just to have a good time. People were selling everything from home made leather bondage gear to mass produced clothing, antiques and vinyl LPs. One music stage played Dub and Ska while the other had a CD-DJ and someone accompanying them on a Didgeridoo.
I stopped at a local shop for a coffee with my crew, then walked around and talked to people about the history of the market. Finally we retired to a park to smoke a spliff then went to a nearby bottle shop for beers.
We made our way from here down the street (ilegally) drinking our beers to one of the girls, Willa's, warehouse. Although the place had been condemned, 10 people lived there, paying rent and making it their own. Grafitti covered the walls and the there were bottles strewn about. We hungout here for a while, drinking and smoking, before heading back up to Newtown to the pub for my companions' friend's birthday. I bought her the first drink of the night, which impressed her and won her over to my side, even though she hates Americans; she kept saying I was great and how attractive she found my accent. We stayed at the pub for a few hours, I finally found a decent microbrewed beer: Fat Yak.
From the pub, we caught a cab to a squat a few kilometers away where there was a house party going on. I had some whiskey and cokes and got the party started.
The place was 3 bedrooms, with the dj and dancefloor in the kitchen. The whole house and backyard were all packed with people, 300-400 I'd say. A firepit in the back the the center of the yard, crew from my warehouse had it locked down all night. There was a guest house out back that served as a bar, selling beer, weed and balloons. The first dj played trance (yawn) which no one really seemed to enjoy, but things got better as the junglists took the decks and the party went wild. I was a hit - everyone wanted to talk to the American-anarchist-junglist-squatter. I connected with the local squatters and they invited me to come check out their places and the local scene. Exactly what I was looking for.
About 4:30 in the morning, after a bit of Dubstep, the party was winding down, and some friends and I caught a cab home. Back at the warehouse the after-party had already begun, and people from the squat quickly started filtering into the Figure Eight warehouse where the show kept on until well after the sun came up.
I caught a bit of sleep and am now thinking about going over to the nearest squat to check out the space.
the fun never stops. perfect.
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