Manafest.... for some a festival....

Manafest, this five-day festival promised: yoga, meditation, mindfulness workshops, primal scream and other self-exploration, and of course, lots of music of all genres. Doesn't sound too bad, we thought, and considered the close proximity to the venue a big plus. What happened next was indescribable. For 5 days and especially nights, we were constantly bombarded by booming speakers, primarily playing electronic or techno tones, causing the walls to vibrate. In some nights, it lasted until almost 5 in the morning. The worst was the day after the festival, when the organizer celebrated his 50th birthday 🙈. We felt like we were in a torture chamber 😱😠. On top of the feeble reassurances and promises from our Italian 'hosts,' their own noise with loud phone calls and meetings outside our little house, as well as the barking and commotion of their dogs, came just when we had finally found some sleep. The festival was themed 'Help the earth;' the self-proclaimed world savers were found every evening, totally stoned, with a permanent grin, in a state of ecstatic expressive dance, staggering, or already collapsed and throwing up. We had shown our goodwill and wanted to join in for one night. The best experiences of the evening were the free beer for us as direct neighbors and the conversation with Anja, the German DJ, who shared our opinion of this event. A large American hippie family with their entourage, some of whom also lived in our complex and slammed doors going from house to house, was the final straw. Ma was already drunk in the morning, Pa was constantly high, and the rest floated around with a spiritual air. Group member Justin consisted only of skin and bones, 'made friends with us, bumping fists after every sentence, friendly offer: If you want to smoke, go to Pa, say 'you're friends of Justin and you'll get something 😆 because you're open-minded' 😝🤣🤗. Thanks, Justin 🙈