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19 July 2023
My Favorite Time of the Year: Early Summer
As you know, this spring flew by like a quick snack. I thought I’d save my summer, so right after the elections, I shut down Twitter, forums, and newspapers, and put a padlock on them. Doomscrolling doesn’t help anyone. I vowed to dedicate this season solely to music, greenery, and the blue skies. If you can, if your job and family allow, I highly recommend it. Let me tell you about a festival to help you relax.
Last year, Hellfest was held over two consecutive weekends to somewhat make up for the pandemic. By 2023, I was curious about what innovations they would come up with to surpass the previous year. The answer came quickly: they announced that the festival, which had been held for three days for years, would now be extended to four days. Incredible! The good part was we would get to see 8-10 additional artists. The not-so-good part was our tent stay would extend from four nights to five. The bad part was we’d need to take another day off work. Whatever, we’d manage; we’re all in. We arranged our leave, and in the meantime, we got some exciting news: our friend Ersay Uçak from Paslanmaz Kalem was coming to the festival.
Tuesday, June 13
We had to reach Nantes the day before the gates opened. This meant traveling on Tuesday instead of Wednesday this time. We arrived in the city around 10 PM, where Ersay met us. He had already arrived hours earlier, had eaten, drunk, and explored because, despite my repeated advice, he booked his flight for the crack of dawn. But no worries, when it comes to music, sleep eludes him. We met in front of the hotel, embraced excitedly, did a mini dance, and decided to go downtown for a beer.
Wednesday, June 14
On Wednesday morning, Hellfest would open its gates, welcoming guests to Hellcity Square and the camping area. Although concerts didn’t start on this “zero” day, the fun certainly did.
When the hotel kicked us out at 11:00 AM, we wandered aimlessly in the park, chatted, fed the ducks, and ate something, but time seemed to drag with our excitement. According to the persistent notifications from the festival app for the past two days, the gates would open at 4:00 PM. I remembered gates opening at 2:00 PM in past years. Instead of waiting here, let’s defy orders and head to the festival gates; who knows, they might open early? We took the 30-minute Nantes-Clisson train ride, calculating how much we would struggle walking to the festival area with our heavy bags. Was it as hot as last year, or even hotter? When we got off at Clisson station, we couldn’t believe our eyes! Instead of the usual massive queue, there were only about 20 people! Unprecedented. Everyone seemed to have heeded the 4:00 PM warning and hadn’t crowded the area yet. We gladly paid our 3 euros and took our seats. When we arrived at the festival gates, expecting a throng, we were surprised to see a crowd no bigger than an average Kadıköy-Beşiktaş ferry dock. We would stand here for at least two hours, drink a few beers, and tan a ton while mingling with fellow metalheads. I looked to see if the nearby stand had cold beer. Just as I was getting my bearings, the crowd started to move, the outer cordon was lifted, and we were directed to the gates! No way! Were they really opening the gates early? We realized we were at the front of the line when we reached the press entrance. At the very front. We would be among the first to enter when the gates opened! Unbelievable!
Amid cheers, whistles, and shouts, the gates opened right at 2:00 PM. We were among the first to step into Hellfest 2023 and ran to secure the best camping spot. This festival seemed promising. We quickly set up our tents, but our throats were dry. It was time for grocery shopping. You know, we only nourish our souls at the festival grounds, not our bellies (too expensive inside). The E.Leclerc supermarket, 1.5 km away, awaited us. Live music had already started on two stages set up in the parking lot. Both the parking lot and the market were full; this was where the crowd had been hiding. They had already consumed the cold beers and were raiding the canned goods. After saving a can of food from the raid, we went in search of beer. Only 5-liter kegs were left in the cooler. These mini kegs, often tried but rarely successful at house parties, might just work for us now. And they did! We spread out in the parking lot, which had already become an alternative festival ground. The live bands on stage were good, but DJ Mike Rock with his Turbonegro-heavy set was even better. Thus, Wednesday saw us drinking more than we should. It wasn’t wise to blackout with so much to do the next day. Everything seemed to be going well, and I believed I wouldn’t have a hangover.
Thursday, June 15
When I woke up on Thursday morning, I couldn’t remember how I had fallen asleep, but fortunately, concerts wouldn’t start until 4:30 PM. We got up and headed to the famous market again. We hadn’t even reached the market when we noticed the massive queue extending towards the road. These French folks like to do everything at the exact time, all together. They don’t mind waiting in kilometer-long lines. Being an hour late for breakfast would be the end of them. So strange. Given the capacity of such a large market was overwhelmed, spilling the queue outside, we were in trouble. Initially, we were disheartened, but Övünç suggested walking an extra five minutes to Lidl. It was the best decision. There was no one at Lidl. Being a discount store, we paid half the price and didn’t have to wait in line. We got our supplies and returned to E.Leclerc’s parking lot, where we had brunch accompanied by DJ Mike Rock’s set.
In the afternoon, the festival grounds finally opened. As soon as we entered, we encountered another massive line: the merch frenzy. This line extended endlessly until the festival’s end. It’s crazy to skip concerts for souvenirs. Hellfest built a huge building to sell official merch this year. The building, with “SANCTUARY” written in red neon letters, looked like the most impressive Satanic temple I’d ever seen. They ignored my request to move in once they were done.
Our business wasn’t with merchandise but with music (merch later). The first band on the main stage was Code Orange, which had created quite a hype, and we had to catch them immediately. Jami Morgan was exactly how I imagined him live: intense, aggressive, and if I wasn’t mistaken, excited to open the main stage. He came out wearing a mask replicating his face. It sounds silly, but it’s impressive, like flesh over flesh. At first glance, it makes you go, “What the hell?” We positioned ourselves on Reba Meyers’ side of the stage, which was a stroke of luck. Seeing someone so impactful in daylight was overwhelming. Jami occasionally vented about their early slot, saying they should be playing at night. He needed to calm down. He was somewhat right, though, as the sound system had some imbalances since they were opening the stage. It was reportedly worse on the recording. These things are part of the gig, kids.
Imperial Triumphant was the second band we saw but perfectly summarized where Hellfest had arrived: there was no room for mediocrity, not even for “good enough.” Everyone was the best in their genre. Olympic-level performances. Imperial was just that. You know Imperial is a band that performs in costumes and masks. The costumes must be high quality, or else the artists look like kids trick-or-treating. But Imperial, with their gold masks and black robes, looked like stylish demons offering bids for our souls. Unfortunately, due to the complexity of the music, there was chaos in the sound, except for the jazz intros. But knowing Zachary Ezrin preferred it this way, I accepted being subjected to the experience rather than just listening.
Hollywood Vampires had recently performed in our country. Those who could go already knew the scene. Due to high ticket prices and the venue’s distance, I missed their Istanbul show. If I could, I’d have gone because anything involving Alice Cooper is noteworthy. The rest of the band? Not so much. The group overly leans on “we have Johnny Depp,” but if you’re not a Depp fan or don’t care about celebrities, that aspect falls flat. While Depp fulfills his rockstar fantasy, the band doesn’t musically offer much substance. Twelve-year-olds are soloing like pros these days. The setlist felt mediocre. Though School’s Out stirred nostalgic feelings, it wasn’t worth standing like a horse for a four-minute finale.
I had to calculate every moment I stood because I needed extra energy for the headliners. I’ve seen Architects multiple times but always look forward to each new show with the same excitement. I never want our honeymoon to end, Arko. Plus, I was watching the concert with Övünç and Ersay, the band’s biggest fans within Turkey’s borders. Just before the concert, they announced parting ways with Josh Middleton from Sylosis, who had joined as a permanent member in 2017, immediately after wrapping up their tour opening for Metallica. It was sad news. Let’s see if this affected the sound, band members, and especially Sam. Just before the concert started, I realized I was too tipsy to pick up on emotional cues from the people on stage. But this newfound courage led me to crowd surf for the first time in my life during the concert. Normally, I’d be worried about safety, but it was smoother than an average metrobus ride and incredibly fun. I can’t vouch for other places, but if you find yourself at Hellfest, I recommend it. The concert opened with Nihilist, followed by four songs from the latest album, which I hadn’t quite adapted to yet. Animals and Royal Beggars received an enthusiastic response from the audience, or maybe I was too caught up in the moment. Sam gave his all, scoring a solid 9 out of 10. I’m deducting one point for not playing Broken Cross.
Before moving on to the next big name in metalcore, it was time for a palate cleanse. I’ve kept my distance from Kiss over the years. Gene Simmons’ grumpiness, greed, and objectification of women kept me away from the band’s music. The secret to a happy life, if you can manage, lies in separating the artist from their art. Kiss is an icon, a show factory, and tonight’s concert reminded us of that. It wasn’t just a concert but a spectacle. The “End of the World” tour show’s production and stage design had been the talk of the town since the tour began. Paul Stanley said at the tour’s start, “Phenomenal! No artist has ever come to you with a show like this. We’ve raised the bar, not just for ourselves but for everyone.” He wasn’t exaggerating. Preparations began, and soon giant statues of Gene Simmons (The Demon), Eric Singer (The Catman), Paul Stanley (The Starchild), and Tommy Thayer (The Spaceman) appeared at the stage’s ends. They were so well-made, giving the stage a Gates of Argonath vibe. Inside the stage were movable giant screens forming an octagon with spikes. These screens served as a platform on which Gene Simmons would ascend into the sky. The spectacle felt like Cirque Du Soleil but in a good way. This show wasn’t to overshadow any shortcomings. Kiss played flawlessly, the kings sang perfectly, and the setlist met everyone’s expectations. Several peak moments with fire, explosions, and confetti were planned throughout the show. It took us back to Kiss’s peak days with excitement and joy.
Finally, my favorite headliner, Parkway Drive… With Reverence, the band had transitioned from their sub-genre to the mainstream metal scene, and they continued to reside there. The last time I saw them was at Wacken 2019, where they nearly lost their minds performing for such a huge crowd. I thought their modesty and smiles had given way to demi-god attitudes by now. They must have gotten used to living on Olympus. I was wrong. The concert opened with Glitch, my favorite from the last album, accompanied by flames and explosions. It’s a perfect concert song. The crowd was hyped from the first second, of course. The moment I secretly wished for happened during fan-favorite Idols and Anchors. Winston entered the crowd, chatted with the audience, gave high-fives, and then ordered, “Spin this shit around!” starting a circle pit around himself while singing. Although the concert lasted over an hour, the band barely fit their hits into the time. Despite having carved their name in metal history, Parkway Drive still felt like the neighbor boys on Parkway Drive. The crew was incredibly sweet, always seemingly in a state of joyful disbelief. There’s a constant emotional exchange with the audience, “Glad to have you,” “Oh no, we’re the ones glad to have you,” “No, we’d be nothing without you.” This joyful disbelief adds to the beauty of the music and elevates the experience. If I could, I’d loop this concert and live it ten times over.
Friday, June 16
I saw Skid Row’s backdrop burning on the main stage, crossed my arms, and set my expectations to 50%. Because, no matter the band, I believe the magic is lost once the iconic frontman leaves. I’d heard the band’s songs performed by Sebastian Bach’s solo group a few times, but I’d never seen Skid Row, Rachel Bolan, Snake Sabo, and Scotti Hill play their own songs with another frontman. They were amazing; I’m speechless. The band’s sound was the best of the festival: clear, loud, and tight. Erik Grönwall, I apologize for turning my nose up at you! He did justice to all the songs, filled the stage with his energy, and convinced us of 80s-style love with his American redneck image and bad-boy attitude.
Since Motionless In White had so many fans, I thought they must have a great live show. But they didn’t. It irritates me when I can’t understand why some bands get so big. Maybe even Chris Motionless doesn’t understand. It felt like a kid won “The Voice America,” was tasked with forming a band, and then these images and makeup were designed for the members. Is there a shout like, “Where are my Heavy Metal Fans!” I don’t know. Cringe. I don’t want to badmouth them just because I didn’t enjoy it since they do their job well and are nice people. The sound was solid, no lie. I watched a bit for the colors, but honestly, not a single note stuck in my head.
I actually wanted to see Aborted. I’ve seen Alter Bridge ten times. Why didn’t I walk a little to the Altar stage? Because just as I was about to go, Addicted to Pain started. I decided to stay until it ended, and then the intro to Black Bird began. Congratulations, we cried in daylight. I thought Ties That Bind might also play, so I decided to stay. No internet meant I couldn’t check setlist.fm. Ties That Bind didn’t play, but Metalingus did, which was fine. There’s something magical about AB; if you establish that emotional bond, they captivate you. You can’t break free or stop watching. But the sound… Again, low and dull. I don’t understand why. I can only assume it’s a choice because bands with a third of AB’s budget produce crystal-clear sound. Why is your sound blurry, and why am I filling in the gaps in my head?
Next up was Papa Roach. You probably know their biggest hit, “Last Resort,” released in 2000. That’s all I knew; to me, Papa Roach was a one-hit-wonder. Ersay disagreed and was eager to watch them. I suggested we address our basic needs—shower, food, drinks, and rest—or we wouldn’t make it through the night. We reluctantly agreed but wondered if we were missing out as we heard them cover Prodigy’s Firestarter from a distance. A week later, at Full Force Festival, Övünç and I would have a blast watching them, remembering Ersay fondly…
We had showered, eaten, and were now at the drink phase of our tent party. Def Leppard’s start time approached, but I had no intention of moving. However, Övünç started getting restless. As Ersay and I argued over the amount of rum in our drinks, Övünç grabbed his camera and ran to the main stage. Listening to Def Leppard from a distance, I tried to drown out the whisper of regret with alcohol. Fifteen minutes after the concert ended, Övünç returned with a broad smile. I begged him not to tell me; regret was my least favorite feeling. But he did.
I’ve wondered why Hellfest invited Machine Gun Kelly since day one (maybe for his talented girlfriend and guitarist, Sophie Lloyd). How many would show up, and how the crowd would react? After all, this is the same crowd that pelted Linkin Park with beer glasses in 2017; they would tear MGK apart. But my indifference outweighed my curiosity. For those interested, you can watch it here. Apparently, he brought Tommy Lee on stage, but I couldn’t bear to look at this transparent-skinned guy.
Saturday, June 17
Having settled into the glam mood with a few Cuba Libres, Mötley Crüe had already started when I returned to the area. The first thing that caught my eye was two women on stage—beautiful in voice, dance, and appearance. They were supposedly accompanying the band. But were their vocals a bit too prominent? I heard them more than Vince Neil during the songs. And Neil’s voice seemed to reach my ears after his image. I had never experienced alcohol causing a delay in my brain. Interesting. By this time, I had lost Övünç and Ersay, so I couldn’t confirm what I was seeing with them. I tried to enjoy it. The band put in effort to entertain, no lie. We struggled together. But what was on stage was this: exhaustion. Musicians trying hard to relive the old glory and excesses, growing further from the goal with each attempt. And these musicians weren’t actors replacing past legends; except for one, they were the original characters. But they had long been detached from the lifestyle they were trying to revive. I’ve never seen a frontman as tired as Vince Neil. I’m not saying old; aging isn’t the issue. But he didn’t even smile. The more I looked, the more I wanted to tell them to stop and go home. It felt like paid sex. They had many hits to play, but I wanted to leave, feeling like I was going to cry. Why was I taking it so personally? A few days later, the music press was full of fan videos from this concert titled “Vince Neil Caught Lip-Syncing.
Sunday, June 18
Accuweather and the Hellfest app both issued storm warnings for today. Opening my eyes to a closed, gloomy sky confirmed the scent of the impending weather. Ersay had gotten up early to watch Resolve at the Warzone stage, the most distant part of the area. He got caught in the downpour there. I reached the press area a bit earlier than Övünç, so I was sipping my coffee at the VIP bar, imagining a music video in the rain when the storm began. When we finally met up around 1 PM, Övünç had weathered the storm in the tent, but Ersay looked defeated. It was the first time I saw his face downcast on this trip. And he was right. When your shoes fill with water, an existential crisis hits you. But what would lift his spirits was a few hours away.
One of the names I was most excited about was Evil Invaders, and I was terrified they’d be ruined by the rain. “Should we go to the Altar stage? Should we head over now? The rain seems to be slowing down, right?” I fidgeted. In the end, I got what I wanted. These maniacs were exactly as expected from their videos. The energy wave hitting me in person was even more jarring. The band is one of the best in modern thrash/speed metal. Joe (Johannes Van Audenhove) is a charismatic leader, effortlessly managing lead guitars and screeching vocals. While they don’t do anything groundbreaking, creating good songs and albums isn’t to be underestimated. We can add their stage performance to this now. Some friends complain that everything’s become metalcore and classic metal isn’t being made anymore. Butcher, Evil Invaders, they are the keepers of classic metal. My only complaint is they should have played after dark.
Hollywood Undead was another band I didn’t plan to watch but was glad I stumbled upon. Their music is rap-rock or nu-metal, with masks on stage, but it’s not aggressive. It’s fun and danceable. Mid-concert, we were invited to chant “Special Tony” for the drummer’s solo. “Spee-shul! Spee-shul!” we chanted, and Tony delivered his solo. Then J-Dog asked, “Have you ever heard Special’s voice?” No, we said. So he asked Tony to sing Bon Jovi’s Livin’ On A Prayer, and Special performed a playback of Bon Jovi’s raw vocals. The crowd went wild. Perfect, just the kind of nonsense I love.
Allow me a brief patriotic moment: She Past Away is more than “the first Turkish band to perform at Hellfest”; they are accomplished actors on the global music stage, invited for their success, not as tokens. Yet, my Middle Eastern reflex kicked in, and I couldn’t help but feel proud of an achievement I had no part in! We headed to the tent well before their performance. Watching the crowd gather with an involuntary smile, I saw everyone dancing from the first moment and not stopping until the end. And they sang along! I thought I’d be the only one knowing the lyrics, basking in my moment. They seemed nervous, which initially surprised me, but performing here doesn’t mean losing all nerves. Doruk Öztürkcan communicated with the audience, speaking briefly but warmly in English and French. Volkan Caner remained the moody and charismatic frontman, silent except for the songs. They briefly thanked everyone at the end and left the stage.
Each year, I obsess over one artist, dreaming of seeing them live and losing my mind if I get the chance. This year’s obsession was Electric Callboy, and yes, I had a blast. I wasn’t interested in their past version, but Nico Sallach’s arrival was a turning point. The band’s music, name, and humor quality completely changed, almost like fate. Watching the We Got the Moves video for the first time, I was blown away. They captured me instantly. Their new style is irresistible. Every song has a breakdown, all high-quality, and I love it. When the intro video with “Buckle up for takeoff” started, we secured our front-row spots. They exploded onto the stage and gave us a perfect 50-minute party. The setlist was almost entirely from post-2020, except for one song. Each song had dedicated visuals, hyping up the crowd. During MC Thunder, they instructed, “Everyone put your arm around the person next to you! We’ll go eight steps right, then eight steps left.” Thanks to the friend next to me, I became the lead in an impromptu halay. Not something I expected, but being the halay leader made everyone happy. The final song, We Got The Moves, had everyone doing the pigeon head dance and culminated in a massive mosh pit. How did you turn Hellfest into a eurotrash dance party, Callboy? Well done. Thanks for making me forget my wet boots and socks.
Incubus announced their last-minute cancellation. Such a last-minute drop was rare. Learning it was due to health reasons, we were worried. I still don’t know what happened. Brandon Boyd canceled a few more concerts last minute. Wishing him a speedy recovery.
Tenacious D is a self-fulfilling prophecy. Like the holy narrative in Pick of Destiny, it’s the story of a music lover chasing the dream of being a rockstar and achieving it, drawing the masses along. The huge crowd singing along to every song proved it. That’s why I can’t put D in the same category as Dethklok or Belzebubs. The concert followed the same theatrical pattern as before, with a few new jokes added over time. But it wasn’t a tired routine. Because dynamo Jack Black and Jack Black never do anything related to metal half-heartedly. He gave 200% to the performance this time as well. The Hellfest crowd was probably one of the largest he’s ever performed for. When the concert ended, we decided we must catch D on tour.
The topic of Pantera is sensitive and polarizing. I’m aware. Anselmo is a bigoted, racist brute; I accept that, 666. BUT: I was going to watch this concert and was super excited about it. Pantera is my childhood. We took our place in front of the main stage, but it was impossible to get close to the barriers. Even for Kiss, it was easier to get closer. The Pantera crowd was an impenetrable wall. As the showtime approached, the ranks tightened. The concert opened with a collage video commemorating Dimebag and Vinnie, as well as past days. After all, this tour was promoted as the “Legacy” tour. The tour shirts had “For The Fans, For The Brothers, For Legacy” printed on the back. Now, we can’t believe this commercial venture was done as a favor for us. This phrase clearly aimed to counter Vinnie Paul’s statement: “Since Dime is gone, a Pantera reunion is impossible.” And he was right. Replacing Dimebag with Zakk doesn’t make it Pantera. Pantera’s concrete sound with a single guitar was etched into a generation’s mind by Dimebag’s tone. Even saying “Dimebag’s tone” makes my heart race a bit. Zakk, with his setup, couldn’t come close to that, unfortunately. We had to make do with what we had. Let me hug my troubles. The setlist was predictably a parade of hits. Anselmo’s communication with the crowd was calm, humble, and sincere. He introduced Walk with “You’ve heard this song 17,000 times. You’ll hear it once more.” His vocal performance was perfect. When the concert ended and he made his farewell speech, I noticed he had gum in his mouth. This bear had performed all his vocals with gum in his mouth. Respect. He left the stage barefoot, holding his shoes.
Patient Testament, humble Testament. They played in a tent at the same time as Slipknot, one of the festival’s biggest headliners. They are always given this slot. Either clashing with Metallica, Rammstein, or Slipknot. But the tent was still packed. In late May, we received the sad news that Alex Scolnick wouldn’t be with us tonight. He had to leave the European tour and return home due to his ailing mother’s worsening condition. Phil Demmel would cover for him. Let’s see how it goes, we thought, and then realized the king had returned to duty! This was a pleasant surprise. Chuck Billy took the stage for the first time without his beloved microphone stand he loved to play air guitar with. He was in high spirits. He fed the front row with picks like they were baby chicks (not sure I’d rush for an unplayed pick, just saying). They opened with Rise Up and continued with an old-school setlist. Practice What You Preach and Electric Crown were my favorite moments. My only complaint was not playing anything from Low.
The festival traditionally ends with a fireworks display. This usually starts after the last concert and lasts about 10 minutes. This time, the display began while Testament’s concert was still going on. We were trying to listen to the last songs of the concert, but our eyes were drawn to the exciting fireworks display. It probably felt disrespectful to the band. Dear organizers, could you wait 10 minutes until everything ends? To be fair, the fireworks show started on time. The only thing off-schedule was Testament. They extended their set a bit, taking advantage of being the festival’s last gig. Once the last song ended and the final pick was thrown, we turned to leave and saw half the tent dismantled. The crew wasted no time. Before we could step over the cables, the girl had already disconnected and packed them. If she had caught me, she would have washed my face and put me in pajamas. The crew, swarming every corner like ants, efficiently directed us either to the exit or the VIP section for the after-party. Here began one of the most frustrating parts of this otherwise magnificent event: the journey back to the tent. I seem to be endlessly praising the festival, but of course, some absurdities also occur. One tends to overlook these quickly while there, not wanting to waste precious time grumbling. Still, to successfully run such a large festival, the organizers came up with five bizarre things I’d like to list as a conclusion:
- Every area—festival grounds, camping area, VIP, press section—has one entrance and one exit gate, with guards checking wristbands and bags when needed. But at a certain hour each night (which I’ve yet to determine), the entrances close. Once closed, you can no longer enter the section you left, even if events are still ongoing inside. What do you do? You’re forced to exit the festival grounds entirely. Depending on where you are, just getting out can be a 2 km walk. Once outside, you’re left standing on the asphalt. Now what? If you have a combined wristband, you have to walk to the back entrance of the camping area, as it’s the only entrance open until 8 AM. A lousy surprise for those wanting to sleep quickly. If you don’t have a combined wristband, your night is over; head home. What if you have a combined wristband but your friend is waiting for you at the DJ tent? Then you’ll have to walk to the back entrance of the camping area, then to the front, then to Metal Corner, making the journey 5-6 km. Nothing is more mind-numbing than this.
- Showers at Hellfest cost money. To take a shower, you pay 6 euros (not per use, but for the whole festival). All the showers are in one place, and there are very few—about 20-25 closed cabins and several rows of open showers with pipes. Both closed and open showers are mixed-gender. If you’re not shy about nudity, it’s easier to use the open showers where the turnover is quick. But long lines form in front of the showers starting early morning, regardless. If you don’t want to wait, you’ll have to shower during concerts, in the cold, less crowded evening hours. However, without the sun, you’ll quickly get dusty and sweaty again on the way back…
- If you enjoy good food, the hot and truly delicious meals at the food stands can deceive you and quickly drain your budget. Eating at the festival grounds is very expensive. A portion starts at 11-12 euros and usually isn’t enough for a meal. We solve this by stocking up on food from the supermarket and eating at the tent. Of course, these must be ready-to-eat, shelf-stable foods. I don’t mind eating canned food! But this economical way of eating also eats into your concert-watching time.
- The dreaded “cashless” system has been adopted not just by Hellfest but by all festivals. You load money onto your wristband chip, either in cash or by card. Once loaded, everything—food, drinks, band shirts, festival merch, coffee, locker deposits, everything—will be deducted from there. You’ll have to keep reloading either through the app or with the help of cashless counter staff. But you, as a Turkish person, forget about the app. It’s not integrated with our banks. When the festival ends, any remaining balance on the wristband can’t be refunded in cash or transferred back to a card. Only through that non-integrated app. So you’ll have to kiss the remaining balance goodbye and leave it to Hellfest. I can hear you say, “I’ll just buy as much beer as I can with the remaining balance.” But guess what happens when everyone thinks the same? Yes, LINES. Very long lines. As the bars close one by one by midnight on Sunday, leaving only one open, it could take five hours to buy that last beer.
- The post-festival depression. To cope, I share my experiences with you, reliving them as I tell them. I don’t know how others deal with it.
