Alexandra Krstic
Doureeeuh, oh Doureeeuh! Everything started when my Dour Daddy, Raph– a proper Dour Festival fanatic – convinced my friends and I to book our tickets well in advance.
With little hesitation, I snagged a spot in the Green camping as soon as tickets became available. Fast forward a few months, and I’m chatting with Luc about covering Dour for Underground Sound. “Say no more!” I exclaimed, selling my ticket (even if Paylogic’s shenanigans invalidated my sold ticket and I had to find a way to sort it with one braincell) and scoring a journalist pass. With my friends by my side, we embark on a sunny Thursday adventure towards Dour.
On the Brink of Dour
I prepare sixteen sandwiches for my gang (yes, I’m extra), and we hit the supermarkets, loading up on supplies. The car is packed to the brim, with Andreas and I squeezing into the backseat amidst a stash of donuts. Arriving, we are greeted by friendly coordinators, and the sheer scale of the festival begins to sink in. The massive parking area is a sea of cars, giving us a glimpse into the enormity of Dour.
The scorching sun pounds us like a relentless drumbeat, making every step feel like a marathon. Note to self: pack a bit lighter and make multiple trips to the car – it’s not worth the hustle. Eventually, we join Raph’s lively friend group, who welcomes us with open arms, providing coolers, chairs, and good company – everything we need to survive the weekend. We were like toddlers taking their first steps, grateful for their welcoming vibe. Merci beaucoup <3
Green Camping: A Pleasant Surprise
As someone who is too attached to her bed, I find myself a bit out of my element. But the Green camping is a pleasant surprise. There are daily yoga sessions from 11-12 (although I use the heat as an excuse to skip them), relatively clean toilets, and a shower queue that moves at a decent pace.
One of the few setbacks we encounter is the plug situation – people are going bananas, fighting over charging spots like their lives depend on them. It’s a sobering reminder of how hooked we are on our devices. Sad.
Thursday’s Musical Melting Pot
But now let’s talk music! Thursday is a musical melting pot; a potpourri of genres and styles that’s leaving me and my 1000 personalities salivating for more.
My Dour Daddy is the catalyst, pushing me to get ready and hit the stage for James Blake. Oh, is he right! I used to be obsessed with James Blake back in 2011, but like a forgotten recipe, he’s been collecting dust on my musical shelf. I can’t fathom how his intimate, bedroom vibes will translate to the massive Last Arena stage. But, boy, am I wrong! He explodes onto the scene like a firework, his drummer and guitarist setting the tone with a bang. The two huge screens behind him are zooming in on his every move. He’s sipping his tea, charming the crowd with his silky voice, and I’m hooked.
Psychedelic Rock & DnB at Dour
Next, we’re wandering into Petit Maison, where Altın Gün, a psychedelic rock band, is creating a musical spell of oriental magic. The crowd is entranced, their moves as smooth as a snake’s slither.
Then, we’re diving headfirst into Le Balzaal, where Netsky’s dubstep/drum n’ bass takeover is in full swing. The visuals are epic: a kaleidoscope of colors, a feast for the eyes, and the full moon is hanging low in the sky like a silver pendant. I’m transported back to my 16-year-old self, dancing the night away in dodgy dubstep events in Cyprus, while my parents think I’m safely tucked in bed (sorry, Mom and Dad!).
A serving of Jyoty
After that, my partner and I break away from the gang to indulge in Jyoty’s groovy vibes. I’d seen her in Leuven in 2022, but I was craving another dose of her energetic elixir. And, oh does she serve! We give it our all and we are exhausted but TRYM is calling our names, so we grab some fries and settle in on the Last Arena grass.
People keep approaching us, only to realize we don’t speak much French, and their faces fall like a failed soufflé. I offer fries or water just to be nice, but that was about it (mental note: learn French this year).
TRYM’s set is a wild ride, with the crowd smiling, ecstatic, and dressed to the nines in their most outrageous festival attire. We find our friends amidst the sea of colorful hats, vendallias, and accessories, and it’s a joy to share the experience with them. The two huge screens show the faces of the crowd, giving everyone their 15 seconds of fame. Zombified, we shuffle back to the camping area, our feet screaming in protest.
The following day, a scorching sun wakes us up again at 8:30 AM. Not cool.
Friday’s Frenzy
Friday hits us like a ton of bricks. Amelie Lens is curating Le Balzaal with a line-up we’ve been dying to see, but our energy is shot. Farrago is up, and his beats are flying fast, but we just can’t keep up. I’ve loved his sets at Voodoo Village and Exhale events, but right now it’s like trying to dive into icy waters without any prep. We’re just not ready for the deep end.
Some time passes and VTSS takes over, and her set gets hotter and sexier by the minute, like a slow-burning fire about to erupt into a blaze. We take a break in our tent between sets and then head to see Amelie Lens, the DJ who got me into techno back in 2018, opening the portal to a whole new world, pushing to the very front greeted by fellow admirers who can’t take their eyes off her. It’s the 5th time I see Amelie Lens (yes, I’m obsessed) and she always manages to surprise me with her professionalism. Her set is perfection – clean sound quality, seamless transitions, and magnetic energy that makes me forget everything else, like a magic trick that makes everything disappear. Thanks, queen, you made my night once again.
Then it’s 999999999, who are fire but I’m eager to leave the Balzaal stage and go to Petit Maison for something more intimate. LSDXOXO takes over with a live singing show followed by Shygirl. In the middle of Shygirl’s set, I have to go to the toilet, and my legs start abandoning me once more. So, my partner and I are happy to go back to our tent and call it a night.
Our other friends, on the contrary, not only stay till the end (apparently VTSS joined Shygirl and she sang “Steady Pace” live – so much FOMO), but also go to the after-parties occupying the regular camping sites. I can’t say I had FOMO for that. They told me it was the trashiest vibe but worth it, with the sun rising and everything looking magical, while non-stop music blasting from JBL speakers.
Saturday’s Tragicomic Wake-up & Recharge
Saturday is a whole new adventure, like a blank page waiting to be written. We’re waking up at 8:30 AM again, violently so. Everyone’s emerging from their tents, their faces twisted in desperation, complaining about the heat: “Trouu chaud.” It’s a tragicomedy.
Upset about this unfortunate recurrence, we spend the whole day not moving from where our tents are, following the moving shade. I’ve never felt so close to being a cow, lying horizontally on the fresh grass, the closest thing to an A/C, eating, falling asleep, watching the clouds pass by.
The gang is preparing for their third (some of them, their fourth) outing, while we’re still in the camping site, trying to find the will to live, like a phoenix rising from the ashes. We’re staying the four of us until 9, drinking and laughing the day away, and then we’re gathering the strength to hit the stages again, with a playful, positive mood.
We head straight to Le Labo, to warm up a little and avoid the Balzaal overwhelm. Gayance is playing, and we’re loving it – intimate, funny, with warm energies floating around. We then head to find the others at Balzaal for CamelPhat, which isn’t my cup of tea, but it’s great to see the others vibing to it and I manage to get into it for a while.
DJ Gigola: My Dour Personal Favorite
…and then we’re off to see my personal favorite of the night, DJ Gigola, whom I missed at Paradise City, at Le Petit Maison. What a fire set! When she plays “La Batteria,” the whole crowd sings along, giving me goosebumps. Of course, Belgium has it coming for us. After her set, a small thunderstorm starts, and rain pours down, causing a lot of people to flood into Le Petit Maison, making it overcrowded, which we don’t like. The strong wind brings a pungent smell of urine, and I feel a sudden urge to vomit. We find refuge at Le Labo, which smells way better. Black Rave Culture is playing, and we love them! Then Lefto Early Bird’s b2b with Mia Koden, giving us those Sunday Brussels, Kiosk Radio vibes.
After that, we attempt to see MCR-T and horsegiirl, but it’s too crowded, and we give up. We accept defeat and head back to the campsite for the last night of struggle. The others stay until the end. I admire their will to experience everything to the last stretch. I, on the contrary, am Orpheus’ slave… Leaving the last night behind, I had zero regrets and was more than content with all these different acts I saw. Of course, it should be noted that my Dour Daddy Raph, his sister (the most energetic person I’ve ever seen at a festival) and some others from the gang stayed from Wednesday to Sunday night, true Doureeeuh legends.
The Final Wrap
And that’s a wrap! We emerge from Dour Festival with a few battle scars, but the memories, music, and sense of community made it all worthwhile. I am wondering whether Dour Festival also refunds on energy (real life on Monday was a struggle) as it will refund me the 0.36 Douros left on my account (yes, they had their own currency and you had to be a mathematical genius to understand what was going out of your wallet, didn’t particularly like that, but a lot of festivals do it).
The energy drain is real, but electrolytes and vitamins help us recover. On a lighter note, I suffered a bruised foot from a tent pole mishap and nearly tripped over tent strings multiple times – a comical reminder to watch your step kids and take a torch next time. Despite these minor challenges, I felt safe and at ease throughout the festival. Dour Festival is not for the faint of heart; it demands energy, fuel, and a genuine passion for music. But I’d do it all over again. See you next year, 16-20/7/25, maybe?
