14/04/2026
A story about Easter and three festivals in four days.
Day one started for me at 3:30 AM.
I woke up in the middle of the night to make it to the airport early in the morning.
My flight to Amsterdam was at 6, and from there I had another one at 11 to Nantes.
I don’t like flying that early. Your mind, still half in the dream world, suddenly realizes that the daily routine has been disrupted — and tilts along with every movement of the plane’s wings.
Half asleep, half awake, I found myself dreaming about a good coffee and a cigarette at Amsterdam airport. I was really looking forward to it — that small vision kept me going.
When I got off the plane, it turned out the airport is 100% smoke-free. So… if I wanted a cigarette, I’d have to leave the terminal and go through security all over again — and the holiday queue was already stretching all the way to the exit.
So I went to get a coffee instead. I noticed a guy pulling out a pack of snus and asked him for one. I put my coffee down next to me, and when I came back to stir it… I accidentally knocked it over and spilled it all across the table.
So yeah… turns out you can’t have everything you dream about.
After landing in Nantes I met up with the guys from the band and we exchanged fist bumps. We took an Uber to the car rental place to pick up our vehicle.
I didn’t take my Sprinter this time — it just didn’t make sense to drive 2000 kilometers for three festivals.
Renault Master.
We rented a Renault Master. New, nice, 9-seater, looked great…
but incredibly uncomfortable.
I don’t know what the designers were thinking, but the driving position feels exactly like the one you take when peeling potatoes on a small kitchen stool. I
usually don’t mind minor inconveniences, but after driving 800 kilometers the next day…
I started to.
We went back to the airport to pick up the rest of the crew. Quick greetings, a bit of catching up, and we hit the road to the festival.
We were welcomed by a very well-organized setup, the ability to drive straight up to the loading ramp, and friendly promoters.
We headed to the backstage area to grab something to eat and have a coffee.
It was made out of container units — each band had its own room, and in the middle there were tables, umbrellas and… people.
Not just any people.
The Rumjacks — a band I’ve toured with twice before. We were actually supposed to go on a third tour together — the very one they were just finishing at this festival — but in the end it clashed with French Police.
There’s something special about running into people from your musical journeys like that, by pure chance. It’s that strange feeling of being surprised, while also knowing somewhere deep down that it could happen.
Laughter, joy, and a bit of disbelief.
World is very small place :D
Day two was a drive across all of France — from Nantes to Escaussinnes in Belgium.
Day three was the return trip from Belgium back to the Nantes area for the third festival.
To be honest.. I don’t remember those days too clearly.
They blended into one long stretch of road — kilometers passing by, and thoughts drifting toward how good it feels sometimes to escape the whole family easter celebration and just keep moving forward, watching the horizon slip away beneath the wheels.
The rest of the story you’ll find in the photos attached to this post.
As a photographer, I believe that visual language can sometimes be far clearer than words.
Thx Moscow Death Brigade, Those were intense, but wonderful few days!
