Day 19: Dijon
Welcome
Yesterday we flew to France to perform at VYV Festival in Dijon.
Apology accepted, we thought begrudgingly, sending this message telepathically to Emma, our remote tour manager, who had apologetically scheduled this 5.45am lobby call from her office on the other side of the world. The airport transfer service for Primavera Madrid was faultless and there was already a van ready and waiting when we emerged from our hotel, passing several groups of people who were just winding down after the end of the festival. My room card was printed with a colourful and delicious-looking breakfast, and we couldn’t help but feel disappointed at missing out on a complimentary meal as we climbed into the comfortable, reclinable seats of the Volkswagen TDI.
The Iberia Airlines check in at Adolfo Suárez Madrid-Barajas Airport was already bustling when we arrived and we were relieved when a helpful staff member saw all our equipment and was able to direct us to the equipaje especiales counter around the corner, which was much quieter.
There was a very serious man working at this counter and he didn’t fuck around, getting everything tagged and weighed, and not hesitating to charge an overweight fee for our heavy inflatable stage prop. Although this terminal is 17 years old it is still packed with state-of-the-art features, and we could tell that this man was trying very hard to remain blasé while getting to operate the secret tray deployment hatch on his luggage belt. We tried to play it cool as well, and he seemed to accept that, and soon a mutual respect was formed.
Saying goodbye to our inflatable mascot, bird.
The sun had just risen by the time we were through security and walking to our gate. It wasn’t a bad spot to watch the morning’s proceedings, as various specialised vehicles set about getting aircraft fuelled and loaded for their first flights of the day. There wasn’t a very diverse food selection in this part of the terminal but there was a huge range of jamón varieties, from which I selected a breakfast of a Bocadillo jamón ET premium cortado a mano, and a freshly squeezed orange juice.
We landed at Charles de Gaulle just before 11am and disembarked into a warm and welcoming breeze, walking a short distance to the bus that would carry us to the terminal, in a rather jerky and jostly manner. The face that formally welcomed us into the Republic of France was that of Timothée Chalamet, and he served us up a smouldering look through the airport’s free wifi portal.
Outside the terminal we were happily reunited with Mathias, who was waiting with our Mercedes Benz Sprinter Tourer, having driven from Brussels that morning. The first part of our drive was fairly punishing and took us on a series of motorways that cut through the south-eastern suburbs of Paris; a good 1.5 hours that was spent in bumper-to-bumper traffic. Eventually we emerged onto the Autoroute du Soleil, the A6 Motorway of the Sun, that carried us southeast towards our destination, just outside of Dijon.
The Tour Television et Téléphonie, Rte de Villabé is one of the more striking sights you will see if you drive this route, and it certainly captured my attention right after the monotony of the Paris traffic. Its height is completely unknown. It could be anywhere from 50-400m. What we do know is that this sky needle of the countryside plays an important role in beaming television and radio signals around the arrondissement of Évry. The portholes that are visible on the upper levels do indicate that there is an observation deck but currently the site isn’t open to the public, so for now we’ll have to stick to viewing this beautiful area of the countryside from ground level.
Enjoying a lunch stop.
Dijon is located in the Burgundy region, famous for the light and fruity liquid produced from its grapes, fields of which we began to see more regularly as we got closer to the festival. A roundabout sewn with grapevines was our final turnoff, and then we headed down a dirt road which led into Parc Combe á la Serpent, which at 326 hectares is one of the largest peri-urban parks in France. This festival was small in comparison to Primavera, but very well laid out, with our stage facing out into a large clearing that made it feel like we had been dropped right in the middle of the forest. VYV Festival seemed to really have their shit together, right from when we pulled into the loading area. A swarm of stagehands immediately appeared, and no one would let us unload our own van. There were a couple of wheelable risers waiting for us to set up on at the side of the stage, and this meant that even though we had a reasonably quick changeover (45 minutes) we could have all the amps, the drums, and even our inflatable fish, Bird, wheeled into place in under thirty seconds. Everyone that helped us was competent, too. The patch was completed perfectly, on the first try; something that rarely happens. We were set up and ready to play and had fifteen minutes to spare.
Grape vine roundabout.
One of the unsung heroes of the festival backstage, a steel hose mount.
At no other festival in my lifetime have I experienced a portaloo that has the trifecta: running water, soap, and hand towels.
It was quite a funny set. The audience felt lukewarm, and it could have been because we were tired, or it could have been because nobody had heard of us, and they were there waiting to watch the next band. We did our best, though, and there were a few people we spotted out there in Beths tshirts, which was a welcome sight. Two audience members that were certainly not lacking in enthusiasm were the small and large cartons of demi-écrémé who waddled out of the forest halfway through our performance and pushed their way to the front of the crowd, doing their best to distract Liz as she performed the intricate vocal for Jump Rope Gazers.
The backstage of this festival was very charming. Rows of white tents had been erected in another small clearing, alongside rows of cherry and apple trees. A bar had been setup underneath a shade sail and people sat around at tables enjoying the last few hours of golden sunlight. There was even a hairdressing tent, and several masseuses were offering their services. After our set we headed over to the catering tent and enjoyed a delicious dinner, taking the time to wind down after a long day. We decided to skip the remainder of the festival, opting to head back to the hotel and take the option of an early night.
Enjoying the decorations in our green room.
