Welcome to Paradise. Welcome to Ozora. Welcome to a week of psychedelic musical beats, dancing in the dust and sunshine, meeting beautiful people and sharing hugs and smiles.
What a festival! I had heard stories of the magic from friends who had been before and I had it in mind to make it there on my travels. But I was nervous about going to such a big festival – maybe 40 or 50 000 people – by myself and about the madness in crowds. Well, I had nothing to fear.
I ended up inviting myself along with Mattais, a Danish guy I met on the canoe trip. He was gracious enough to invite me to share his tent, and in the end made sure I was always well fed. And he found us a lift to the festival with some Budapest locals who turned out to be super camp mates. I arrived with a small bag containing my jersey, jeans, sarong and lip balm, a small foam mattress and blanket and my hula hoop of course. No tent, no food, no way to cook anything. But I had a home and some friends and it marked the start of an amazing week.
The Ozora space is big and there are lots of places to visit – the Magic Garden, Chill-Out stage, Main stage, Labyrinth, the market – and so much to wonder at, especially the people kitted out in all their trancey finery. Mostly I spent the week walking around and around and around, and dancing and stomping and jumping and whirling and hooping.
Part of the Ozora tradition is this art wall. The pathway between the campsite and stages is lined by delicately carved sand sculptures, some messages and names, others intricate faces, temples and designs.
Dusty and dirty, but oh so happy. Thank you for the beauty Ozora.