Lollapalooza

On Saturday, 2 April we rushed about the house trying to get everything ready for the day of the big music festival. I printed off my receipt from my Internet ticket purchase for my lovely Chilean, a friend of ours and myself. We then went to the bank to take out cash for the day and were about to hop on the bus when I realised I didn't have my ID (I didn't want to take my wallet to a festival). I literally ran back to the house, only to realise I didn't have my keys either.

On my ticket receipt it said then the ONLY way to receive our paper tickets was to visit the ticket booth on the day of the festival, which opened 2 hours before the festival and closed half an hour before the gates were to open, hence why we were rushing about like headless chickens. My lovely Chilean came running to my aid, opening the door for me and waiting as I grabbed my ID. We ran back to the bus stop where our friend was patiently waiting.

Now, there was only one bus that we could take from this particular bus stop and it just never came. The minutes were ticking by; we were running out of time. In the end we jumped on any bus but that too was taking too long. We got off and caught a taxi the rest of the way. Luckily it was close.

We arrived and it was absolutely packed with festival goers, all lining up to get inside. Still half an hour to spare before the festival was to begin, the Chilean audience, being the Chileans that they are, began to shout and chant and demand to be let in - no patience in this culture. We asked a nearby policeman were we were supposed to collect our tickets, for there didn't seem to be anyone else to ask. He merely informed us, without even looking us in the eye, that everyone, paper ticket or not, was to wait in these lines and so we did.

The gates opened and the line moved fast. We got to the front and the girl checking tickets didn't know what to do with my receipt so she went to get help. The help then told us that the ticket booth was right around the other side of the park, Parque O'Higgins, so we went hurriedly off over there.

This is where the real story begins: as we were approaching, we noticed an extremely long line, mostly filled with foreigners speaking an array of languages with varying accents, notably North Americas, Brits, Aussies, Spanish, Argentineans and Brazilieros. We did what everyone else was doing; we joined the line - yes, that great big, long line that just never seemed to move. We took turns to investigate. Apparently we were supposed to line up in alphabetical order and with no signage or direction everyone had just joined the S-Z line (my line). It would have been fine if there weren’t only 3 PEOPLE working at the ticket booth, distributing tickets to thousands upon thousands of people. Great organisation Lollapalooza!

I ended up joining the incredibly short N-R line but even this didn't make much difference. Half an hour later I had moved only one step and the lines at the front had turned into more of a lump of people pushing and shoving to get their tickets. The police arrived to crowd control. The policeman in charge decided that all people in line S-Z should be in single file. Each police officer joined hands and created a man-barrier and the idea was that all S-Z people had to get behind them. If they couldn't, they had to move to the end of the line. How on earth they expected to get thousands of people into single file, I don't know. Everyone just kind of scrambled into position, most of the people at the front, were now way behind, people way behind were now at the front and people way, way behind didn't notice any hustle.

Then a truck arrived with metal barrier fences, which they positioned around the huddle around the ticket booth, as they had only demanded the S-Z line to get into single file, everyone else was let be. The official order was that everyone inside the bordered off zone must leave before anyone else was let inside. Luckily I was at the beginning of the line outside the blocked off zone, unluckily I waited 3 hours to get inside. Of course, being the polite foreigners that we were, no one kicked up a fuss. And to think the Chileans were on the verge of a riot just to be let into the venue!

Reinforcements arrived at the ticket booth, which meant that now 6 people were working, distributing tickets. Yet it wasn’t just as easy as distributing tickets, it seemed. First they had to check your receipt, then the had to check your ID and then you had to sign a document that legalised that we had officially received your tickets. This was all fine if you had a Chilean ID. Passports had to be thoroughly checked and if you didn't have a passport, we couldn't get your ticket.

I noticed one girl show a photocopy of her passport and they flatly refused to give her ticket to her. Photocopies have no value in Chile unless a notary signs them. Seriously, who is going to bring their valuable passport to a music festival, where basically anything can be stolen? Of course, these people had to wait around for confirmation of their identification, which took forever, and which meant that we were waiting for this process to finish before we were let in.

Eventually, 3 and half-hours since we had first arrived, I was let in and got my tickets very easily. We past all the crowd control vehicles, armed up to their teeth and entered the festival. They didn't check our bags for drugs; they didn't check our pockets for alcohol, nothing. Did I mention that this festival was alcohol free? It's the first time for this particular festival to come to Chile from the US and they couldn't get permission to have alcohol. If all goes well, they can apparently have alcohol next year. Hopefully, if this is the case, they will be better organised because although the name is US copyright, it was still organised by Chileans.

Inside, everything went smoothly for us. We saw all the acts we wanted to see, including Ben Harper, Empire of the Sun and Fat Boy Slim, plus a few more. Food and drink were outrageously expensive as to be expected at a music festival; being in Chile made no difference. And we went home half an hour early to beat the crowds. The next day my body ached from all the jumping around and dancing but I had a good memory of the day, despite the way it started.

We didn't get tickets to the next day of the two-day festival because it was way too expensive. Apparently they had been selling the tickets ‘2 for 1’ the week prior but we knew that more people were expected to come on the second day and we had to work on Monday so it just didn't seem worth it. We did, however, catch up on all the stories from the event such as the apparent rape of a girl on the first day and the collapse of a stage (inside a tiny dome) on the second day because the venue wasn't prepared for the amounts of spectators.

There is nothing more eye opening then going to a music festival in another country!