How Andrew and I joined the new Psychedelic Renaissance in Hungary. Sort of — by Carlo Pizzati

To celebrate Ozora and Sonica 2013 and to wish “Andrew” good luck at Burning Man!


It was midnight, and we were lost in the woods an hour south of Budapest, when I first thought: this is wrong. Not just the wrong road, but wrong in a deeper sense. If we were going to a trance festival to open our hearts to the universe, why were we trusting technology more than our intuition?

We got to where we were because of the GPS, bouncing along with a white hare in our headlights somewhere near the Ozora Festival — the “tribal and psychedelic encounter” my friend Andrew and I were looking for. We were told to expect a day-and-night, rain-or-shine, mud-or-dust, week long psy-trance 24/7 music marathon whose participants would stomp the ground, loudly and often, to “extract energies from the earth.”

What were two middle-aged men doing in a mud puddle in pursuit of this folly, now abandoned also by the white hare? And without tickets?…

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