A Big Day Out at a 'UKG Brunch' Boat Party

What a journey brunch has had.

Since being invented by the Sex and the City writers' room in 1998, this middle-meal has spent 20 years dramatically evolving to reach the point we're at now. From the bottomless varieties, to those that mean queuing for three hours in a recently gentrified area to eat some kind of shakshuka-based experiment, to Friends-themed fever dreams, brunch is now less of a meal and more a high concept performance.

It's unclear what exactly brunch and UK garage have in common aside from both being born in the 1990s, but there I was, queuing for a "UKG brunch" boat party alongside 700 European teenagers on the Millennium Pier on a Saturday morning, to find out. To clarify: the European teenagers were waiting in a parallel queue to go on a City Cruise down the murky brown River Thames, for reasons that will forever remain unclear to me.

Looking around to see who I'd be stuck on a boat with for the next four hours, I overheard a young man announce, "Oi, there's bare people here ready to crack on, you know." His assessment would prove correct, but at that point I was just taking in the pre-drinks, of which there were many. Despite it being 11.30AM, there were bottles of rosé and pre-mixed spirits floating around, along with a lot of people sensibly lining their stomachs with food from the nearby Pret.

Outfit-wise, I was hoping to see some full UK garage drip: head to toe Moschino, brown lipliner, ubiquitous diamanté. Unfortunately this wasn't the case: everyone looked mostly how everyone looks in 2019, including some obligatory jeans n sheux lads.

That's not to say no one had made an effort, because they definitely had – more than I usually make on a night out. Some brave ladies had even decided upon heels. In the day! For a piss-up on a boat!

By the time we were all safely and securely hoarded onto the boat, the party was already in full swing, and we set off to claim our "welcome drinks" (prosecco in plastic cups) to the sound of the Posh and Becks' wedding playlist.

One of the first questions that comes to mind when faced with an event such as UKG brunch on a boat is: who exactly is this aimed at? Older people with kids who can't go out at night and want to recreate the Twice as Nice experience of their youth? Younger people raised on the Instagram nostalgia of Wavey Garms and Duke's Cupboard looking to get their vintage designer fits off on the Thames while listening to Artful Dodger?

There was a huge age range, with each bracket represented fairly equally, but most were between 23 and 35. Some had definitely been lucky enough to bubble back in the day, while others might well have been conceived in the toilets at a DJ EZ night sometime around the turn of the millennium.

The one thing absolutely everyone had in common was that they were having a great time. Guided by MC Aurie Styla (who, full disclosure, I used to work with at Cineworld), everyone started doing the dance to Cameo's "Candy" in perfect form, or at least as perfect a form it is possible to have while dancing on a floor that has three hours' worth of drinks spilled all over it.

The music was mostly what you'd expect: UKG bangers. Mis-Teeq, Craig David, Sweet Female Attitude, Heartless Crew, with some Afrobeats thrown in to segue the vibe into 2019. Monster Boy's "I'm Sorry" – the most triggering song of all time (yes, you "should've known better than to sleep with my best friend", you dickhead) – was played no less than four times.

By 1.30PM I was starting to feel like I was figuratively stuck in purgatory, and increasingly aware that I was literally stuck on a boat. Fortunately, everyone around me was incredibly drunk.

I took some time to sit down and look out the window as we sailed along The Thames, thinking about all the things London has seen: wars, fires, subcultures, revolution. Deptford's abandoned docks, the Millennium Dome turned O2 centre, the Emirates Zip Line and now a boat of people day-drinking, wearing captain prop hats and, in the case of one queen, giving a "UKG brunch" sign a tit-wank as Daniel Bedingfield's "Gotta Get Through This" played out over the speakers.

A quick aside here to talk about Tara. It is rare that one person is such a legend that their presence is crucial to the vibe of an event. Tara was one such legend. Balancing a tray of halloumi-chilli bites on her head before dropping the whole thing and getting down on her knees to try to salvage them: check. Wrapping herself in the UKG brunch bunting and doing death drops: check. Somehow creating a crowd of people to watch her while two people held out a stretched-out length of blue roll five inches off the floor as she front-rolled over it: check.

Quite simply, I have never met anyone with a greater commitment to partying, and never want to go on a night out without her ever again. Tara, if you're reading this, call me.

The musical highlight was of course UKG legend DJ Pied Piper, responsible for the definitive 2001 banger "Do You Really Like It", which was played at least once every hour, just like it was when I was in year 6. The garage legend took to the mic to implore the ladies, "You got to show me breast," to the tune of Robin S's "Show Me Love" as a girl who looked like she wasn't born when garage first hit used a napkin to wipe the sweat off his forehead.

All cynicism aside, it's scientifically impossible not to have fun listening to garage. There was a 40th birthday party; a hen-do; a woman who experienced the peak of UKG the first time around, high as hell with a smile plastered over her face all the way through, who never stopped dancing; loads of prosecco and Smirnoff Ice; and the one constant of every club night this side of 2010: white women trying to twerk. By 3PM, even the security were skanking.

The UKG Brunch Boat Party: huge chaotic good energy, constant laughter and the chance to see people do things usually reserved for the dark of 3AM in the broad light of day. Do you really like it? Yes. Is it, is it wicked? Also yes. But maybe have brunch before you board.

@bekkylonsdalephoto