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Rating: Long awaited by both adults and children (although more by adults), blacklisted by newspapers and TV news, widely hated by law enforcement and politicians, the 2007 summer Teknival finally took shape in the splendid location known as Pinerolo. Ravers of northern Italy rejoice, if the feeling of claustrophobia from large industrial buildings was starting to oppress your minds and poorly suited certain substances (or rather, certain plants), the natural beauty of the woods hosting the event in question is exactly the breath of fresh air (so to speak, given the clouds of dust rising) you were seeking.
I don't know why, but deep down I thought (hoped) for a single nerve center and 200 meters of sound walls. All wrong, the site map consists of around thirty spots, major and minor, catering to the most diverse tastes. Once "in sync," however, I realize I wouldn't trade this variety for anything else in the world. The atmosphere is the same as always, stalls selling everything and more, here there is no limit or institution yet the cheerful anarchy works brilliantly. It might also be the beauty of the place, which doesn't allow anyone to have a bad time; some spots brilliantly utilize the environment, creating splendid light shows against the backdrop of the forest, simulating waves of the sea or the breeze in the desert, in a very psy-trance context.
All very beautiful, but when you reach hour X, you start feeling that need for sensory feedback. And so you run toward the speedcore, hardtech, or breakcore walls, in a psychedelic frenzy ranging from 180 to 240 bpm, just to see if your heart can handle it. Personally, I prefer lower speed and more powerful bass, but I'm in good company. Those 2-3 hours stuck to the wall fly by quickly, it's up to you to decide whether to spend them selfishly or share them with those around you. In the end, a kiss even sneaks in with a perfect stranger. It doesn't matter, you know it's all fake, it's all induced, but in the end, you had a good time. A glance at your phone reminds you that it's time to detach from there and go get something to drink, to avoid dying of dehydration.
Daylight arrives but it's not a problem, you reunite with your group for a quick exchange of opinions and set off for another spot, destination: the tribe. If in factories the daylight exposed many worn-out faces, here the result seems a bit better, a lot of people are smiling. And the fact that I haven't seen any jerks fiddling with needles and syringes is a good thing, apparently, the anti-heroin campaign put into motion by the organizers has borne good fruit.
It's 10 o'clock, and the sun shines brightly, the memory slightly fades along with the effect... it's time to head home.
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