- The first time you go skiing is one of those memories that sticks—partly because of the thrill, but mainly because of the combination of cold and embarrassment. Thankfully, there's a whole industry devoted to dulling the pain of failure on the slopes, namely the age-old tradition of après-ski. In the case of Horizon Festival, the custom is extended beyond the usual handful of bars to a full seven-day programme of specially curated events, spread across various venues in the small Bulgarian town of Bansko. For its second year, Horizon almost doubled in size, welcoming 1000-plus ski-masked ravers for a week's worth of affordable, snow-based hedonism.
Running from 6 PM through midnight, the main draw on Sunday evening was the new Tofana stage. Nestled among the mountains and flanked by the forest on either side, it made for a charming party setting. To top it off, snow began to fall as we clambered out of the mini-bus and into the action. Behind the decks, UK duo Bondax were throwing down upfront house jams, mixing quickly to keep the small but lively crowd moving. In what could have resulted in a slightly awkward changeover, Mancunian tag-team Dub Phizix & MC Strategy seamlessly picked up the mantle, starting with a slice of throbbing four-to-the-foor before slipping unnoticed into their brand of razor-sharp drum & bass. With no more than 150 people present, all of them dancing wildly to the duo's uber-hit "Marka," it was suddenly clear to me why people swear so earnestly by smaller festivals.
Back in Bansko, the night offered several options: Kasra and Klose One at the imaginatively titled The Club, or Kerri Chandler at The Gardenia? I went with the latter—after all, it's not every day a house legend is playing in the basement of your hotel. The venue, a medieval-style wooden bunker complete with mezzanine, was packed right from the off, with Chandler working the room with his usual mix of old and new house. MK's "Love Changes" and his own "In My System" both went down a treat, but it was his live keyboard playing that brought on the biggest cheers. Later on, I learned that the room was in fact a restaurant during the day, and that just the night before the women of Bankso had been out in full force celebrating International Women's Day. This was Horizon's charm: throwing first-rate parties in quirky, unconventional spaces.
This was a theme that continued into Monday night. Relocated last-minute from a larger strip club to a smaller one, the secret Exit Records showcase saw 100 ticket-holders crammed into a 50 square-metre space. Ironically, the strippers were the ones that felt out of place, at odds with the young, headsy crowd and pummelling jungle breaks. Though a little seedy, given that Bansko is literally teeming with the joints (more than 20, rumour has it, which for a town of 8,000 people seems excessive), there was a sense that Horizon was just doing its best to assimilate with its surroundings.
That was part of the festival's appeal: rather than dominate the landscape, Horizon blends into the Bansko way of life, making for a richer, more rounded experience. Naturally, there are some points to build on for next year: bar the odd overpriced taxi, transport between the town and the hotels a little further afield was non-existent, leaving revellers to navigate Bansko's labyrinthine streets alone. Musically, there was the occasional dip into brostep territory, which, apart from sounding terrible, clashed with the festival's otherwise solid booking policy. With a little tidy-up around the edges, and more of the same by way of weird and wonderful venues, Horizon has a lot of potential. I'd especially recommend it for anyone new to snow sports—it'll make your first time on the slopes memorable for all the right reasons.
Photo credit: Marc Sethi