"This edition allows us to move up the ladder": after months of work behind the scenes, the Néoules festival has kept all its promises

Faces are drawn, bodies tired, but faces cheerful. On Sunday, although calm has returned to the Châteauloin fortified town in Néoules, the volunteers in green T-shirts are already busy in the morning heat, albeit at a slower pace. After three intense evenings, it's not time for rest yet, but rather for tidying up and cleaning. All human presence must disappear before Thursday. "We're starting in the morning to take advantage of as many volunteers as possible. It will be easier for those who stay until Thursday." Valérie Poirrier is one of the faithful little hands who weave the decor of the Néoules festival all year long. This ^34th edition was "beautiful," and that's good news.

The double or nothing edition

The day after a party is always a bit complicated, so when you accumulate three nights, the sleep debt is somewhat felt. But no matter, "we did it," says Tonton, a volunteer for over 20 years. "Another one!" In her eyes, a hint of pride at having taken on the challenge, a satisfaction of savoring the calm after the storm, because this edition was far from won. "It was important to take the risk of doing this edition," continues Valérie. "It allows us to climb back up, otherwise we wouldn't have climbed at all." The tallies aren't done yet, but the numbers are good. "Let's say we're going from red to... orange," she smiles. There is hope because "it's been a long time since we've done a full suit."

This year, the festival introduced a different catering option by using food trucks. Hot dogs, pitas, and "crepes are a must. We served around 900 in previous years. It requires less preparation and is less work for the volunteers. It's a financial gain. We try to save money everywhere. On the price of our trash, for example. In four years, we've gone from 2,000 euros to 600 euros thanks to our green brigade and recycling."

After months of behind-the-scenes work, the Néoules festival welcomed its first sound enthusiasts on Thursday evening in a dub-electro atmosphere. "It's always a quieter evening. It allows us to get our groove on, resolve any issues, make adjustments, and, above all, allow new volunteers to get their bearings." A thousand festival-goers gathered under the oak trees for a gentle start. The next day was a different story.

A full Friday night that saves the day

The predictions were correct. "We saw a 30% increase in advance tickets for the three nights, with a big impact on Friday night. I quickly calculated that we would be sold out." The reason is sometimes a mystery, but the reggae lineup of David Avril, the festival's new programmer, has a lot to do with it. "We had a really great lineup, including Groundation and especially Raspigaous, for whom this is their last tour. It was obviously an opportunity not to be missed. Seeing them play under the oak trees is something else than in a venue." The five bands scheduled that evening played in front of 2,500 people. A record that led to another. "The record for beer kegs sold: 104 compared to 96 in 2019."

1,500 people for the last one

So the organizers already had plenty to look forward to before the final evening on Saturday, traditionally more rock and punk. "It's my favorite," confided Valérie. "I usually run around less." While on stage, things were far from peaceful. Without transition, the festival-goers moved from the Cigales Engatsées, who performed the biggest farandole "in the world" and a punk version of the Provençal anthem Coupo Santo, to Didier Super. The singer spared no one with his caustic humor. "It's really to be taken with a pinch of salt. He's totally provocative, whereas in real life, he's more of a shy person. When he puts on his Didier Super costume, it's really two rooms, two atmospheres."

So, on Saturday night, there were 1,500 people on site, just to end on a high note and a good pogo. "It's not uncommon to see shoes fly away in the middle of a pogo," laughs Valérie. "But we always find them... or not," and it's been going on for 34 years.

“34 years, a magnificent story and place”

The next day, everyone tells their own little story about the night. Some volunteers can't find their tent or lose their glasses. Still others wait for sunrise; the view is breathtaking. "It's almost a tradition." It must be said that in 34 years of existence, there are rituals that are passed down, a kind of torch. And the volunteers pass the word among friends but also to children. The magic still works. "34 years, it's still a magnificent story and a magnificent place."

So, towards a ^35th edition? "David already has an idea of the program."