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Writer's pictureJoke De Roeck

A festival and a wedding: PART 1





The first days of November are to remember those who have passed on to other realms and to reflect on death. I decided to do this by celebrating life and dedicating the long weekend to the two things that make me feel most alive: music and love. So: a festival and a wedding!


It all started with the ticket to Funtastic Dracula Carnival that fell in my lap a few weeks ago, months after the festival was sold out. If there would ever be a reason for me to visit Benidorm, it would be for a festival and absolutely nothing else. I booked a hotel with ocean view, thinking of the sweet holiday vibes I would have in between the nights of dancing my ass off to garage rock.


But the festival was so full of good stuff, there was hardly time for a dip in the sea and a nap on the beach before diving back into the sweaty basement of a bar for more epic concerts. More dancing, more head banging, more 50+ white men wearing black band shirts. Really, it was better than it sounds. Because this was 1PM in Benidorm on a sunny Saturday where the beach was lined with drunk Brits and old people in their little motor cars racing from one terrace to another. I was happy to be in what felt like a place of sanity in the insanity of this strange city.


About the place they call the Vegas of Spain: it truly is the ugliest town I have ever laid eyes on. Absolutely everything is trashy. The bars blasting shitty sing-along songs, the food (all kebabs everywhere and pizza so greasy it actually had bubbles of oil popping in my face whenever I took a bite), big ugly ass skyscrapers and people living their ultimate trash bag lives. What a place. I decided to roll with it and instantly became the crustiest version of myself.


Which actually isn’t very hard at a festival. I walked around town covered in fake blood, with dark bags under my eyes (this was not make-up), a ridiculously big grin on my face, a body in pain from dancing 24/7 and a sleep deprivation I’ll never be able to catch up on. Even the spider I wore on my head was so crusty everyone though it was a crab. It’s been three days and I’m still scrubbing the cigarette smoke and stale beer out of my clothes and hair.


The festival though, was absolutely funtastic. I loved every single band I saw, even though I didn’t know any of them beforehand. I danced, stomped, got hit by many a stagediver and honestly am glad I still have all my teeth after the millions of mosh pits. Being surrounded by so many live music lovers made me insanely happy and I would go back to trash bag town Benidorm for this festival in a heartbeat.

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