Fear and loathing on the French Riviera… ft. ELOI
Photo: Jessica
10:09 Wednesday 20th of July. An unknown woman shakes us awake. Me, still dressed in shirt and tie, and my partner in crime Julia, reeking of alcohol from the night before. This is not a twisted
one-night-stand story, the woman’s name is Jessica and she had let us in at 4am in the morning when we found ourselves locked out on the streets after a night of chaos. Still hazy, I looked around the room and let the memories fall into place one after the other.
The day before, we had arrived at the biggest festival in Switzerland to conduct interviews, the first stop on our journalistic pilgrimage towards the glorious French Riviera. On the hunt for the perfect story, we had been roaming the festival area. Filling our bags with beer backstage before crossing paths with the French rockstar/queer cowboy ELOI.
VIDEO 1
10:22 Wednesday 20th of July. The fog of my memories suddently lifted with the sound of foul swearing coming from my companion. We gathered up our hats and cameras and stumbled out of Jessica's apartment. Julia lit a cigarette in the parking lot, the heat was strangely pressing and she looked at me with piercing eyes. We both knew that this trip had become a race of endurance. To write about the journey in any conventional press sense was absurd. But we are, after all, professional journalists; so we had to find story, for good or ill.
15:47 Wednesday 20th of July. Note. Men at festivals: dressing like flowers or not at all. All looking to feel comfortable and free. A meadow of men, sprung out in full bloom.
20:23 Wednesday 20 of July. We spent the rest of that night rounding up material and packing our bags. Our trip was different. It was to be a gateway into our second issue and an affirmation of everything right and true about this world. But, only for those with true grit.
In total control. Two good boys hitting the road to go south in a bright green Flixbus. Stoned, ripped, twisted, good people.
15:21 Thursday 22 of July. Many hours later we arrived on the French Riviera. The glory days of the Yacht Club hotel where we would spend the night were clearly over.
Already in despair of the situation, we listened back to our material from the festival and realized it was all terrible gibberish. Madness. It made no sense at all. See for yourself, just press play.
VIDEO 2
10:23 Friday 22 of July. It was time to get grounded. To ponder this rotten assignment and figure out how to cope with it. It was time to do the job. Both of us had been up all night, we were in no mood for coffee and donuts. We wanted strong drinks. Sipping on my Blue Lagoon I couldn't help but ask myself: What were we doing? What was the meaning of this trip? Were we just roaming around in an alcohol frenzy of some kind? Or had we come to the French Riviera to write a story?
T: I hate to say this but this place is getting to me. I think I’m getting the fear.
J: Nonsense. We came to the French Riviera to write a story and now that we're right in the vortex you want to quit? You must realize man, we've hit the main nerve.
T: That's what gives me the fear.
22:41 Friday 22 of July. Here we were. No cash, no story for the magazine, left to rot on the French Riviera. Wandering aimlessly along the highway there was every reason to believe that we had been pushing our luck too far, when a sign presented itself in the dark sky. “Magic world” a flourescent mirage merging from the pitch black.
VIDEO 3
10:23 Friday 22 of July. This place was madness in all directions, at any hour, it could strike sparks everywhere. I followed Julia as she moved through the arcade games and continued towards the white sign on the hill. A sense that what we were doing was right. This was our future, the place of rebirth. Watching the silhouette of her back disappear into the wilderness I thought to myself: there she goes, one of God's own prototypes. A high power mutant never considered for mass production. Too weird to live, too rare to die.
This was not the end of our story, this was the very start of it. Below follows the second issue of Parisonline, the perfect trip, through space and time. Buy the ticket. Take the ride.
THE BEGINNING