The (Useless) Survival Manual for Teknival

Here we are. August has finally arrived.

And with it come the heat, the nomadic migrations, the teknivals, free parties, and festivals that pop up like mirages along the dusty roads of Europe. It’s the month when your backpack becomes your home, the road becomes your family, and your tent your personal kingdom—smell included.

For those who live—or survive—the summer among sound systems, improvised showers, and makeshift meals, here’s an almost useless guide, written straight from the heart, to help you keep your sense of humor when things get rough. It won’t save your life. But it might just save you from a terrible day.

How to Choose Your Base Camp

Shade, distance from the sound system, and humidity: the perfect (or disastrous) triangle. If you pitch your tent too close to the speakers, you’ll never sleep. Too far, and you’ll end up a wandering pilgrim at four in the morning.

Shade is life, but watch out for the branches above your head—nobody wants to be woken by a dry branch after two beers. Check out your neighbors, too. Avoid groups with screaming children, untrained dogs, or couples having their first fight of the weekend. The best advice I ever got from an old friend: “Sniff before you set up.” If you smell piss, go somewhere else.

Rave Gourmet Recipes

The timeless classic: instant couscous. With tuna, with cherry tomatoes, or simply with sand. It’s fast, filling, and does the job. The beer will inevitably be warm—accept this truth. If you ever find cold water at a rave, take a photo. It’s a rare, almost spiritual event.

Among the best travel companions: taralli (they don’t melt), dried fruit, sliced bread, canned tuna, and energy bars—which you’ll definitely forget you brought.

Do your mum a favor and pack some vitamins. Sweating is healthy, but it helps to be prepared.

Pop-up Tent vs. Real Tent: Who Are You, Really?

The pop-up tent welcomes you with love but betrays you in the end. Closing it is an emotional puzzle; only someone with an aerospace engineering degree can do it—find that person and make friends. The classic tent takes work to set up, but offers stability.

And then there’s always someone who shows up with nothing but a beach towel and two tent stakes. Total respect, but watch out for the bats.

Tents, like cars, say a lot about you. If there’s a double duvet inside or fairy lights worthy of a funfair, you know exactly who you’re dealing with.

There’s always that person who sleeps with their head sticking out of the tent, bathes in the river at 6 AM, prepares Ayurvedic infusions for everyone, and forgot their shoes but not their Tibetan bell. If you see them, thank them. They bring balance to the system.

The 5 Things You Will Always Forget

1. Toilet paper
   
   
2. Phone charger (or power bank)
   
   
3. A towel that actually dries
   
   
4. Headlamp (you’ll end up using your cousin’s old Nokia torch)
   
   
5. Lighter (you brought five, you will lose all of them)
   
   

Bonus: earplugs. Whoever brings them saves their brain cells and earns universal respect.

Extra Tips (Semi-Useless but Real)

Make friends with the person who has a giant water container. Behind their hemp smell and unsettling collection of ladles, you’ll often find a living encyclopedia of past raves. They know the best places to sleep, where to find water, and how to avoid security.

Sleep at least 2 hours out of every 24. It’s the bare minimum balance between enjoying the party and not turning into a hallucinating larva. It’s not weakness—it’s survival strategy. In the end, you’ll be the one still standing when everyone else collapses.

If you drink, drink water too. The combination of sun, dancing, dehydration, and warm beer is potentially lethal. A bottle of water tucked into your waistband can save your day—and your liver.

If you get lost, look for the light tower or the tent with the weirdest flag. They work like nocturnal lighthouses. And almost always, you’ll find someone nearby who’s happy to welcome you, listen to you, or at least offer you a cigarette.

Don’t chase the party—sometimes it’s right behind you. You can spend the whole night searching for the perfect sound, but often the real energy is already around you. Stop, listen, look at who’s next to you. That’s often where the best moments happen.

In the End, It’s All Love

This guide is written with irony but also with affection for those who see teknival as a choice of freedom. Rave camping is a radical, uncomfortable, sweaty experience, but full of encounters, stories, sounds, and sunsets that stick with you long after September.

Those who set off for a teknival carry much more than a backpack. They carry love for the sound systems, for the music that breaks time and space. They carry the desire to meet people who vibrate at the same frequency. They carry the hope of sharing, of being helped, and of helping.

The discomfort, the dust, the rain don’t matter anymore when you find yourself dancing with strangers who become brothers and sisters for a night. When you share a bottle of water with someone who has nothing left. When you sit next to a person you don’t know, just to keep them company.

And then there are the serious moments—the ones when the sense of community becomes essential. When someone is harassed and a human shield forms around them. When you run out of food or medicine and someone offers you everything they have. When, at the end of the party, you wait for each other to leave together, so no one gets left behind. To protect the sound system. Out of respect for the collectives who made it all possible.

See you on the road—dancing like maniacs in front of a giant wall of speakers. And bring water.