"This is the greatest, biggest and craziest party I have ever seen!" exclaims 20 year old German DJ Christoph above the 14K sound of Goa trance. "Socio-paths, psycho-paths, space hippies, techno-punks, ravers and ordinary families all come here and over 1000 local Czech people. Its a totally multi-cultural. English, French, German and at night the Czechs come down and get into it." Surrounded by forest covered hill sides, winding roads and barley-rich fields, the pretty town of Hostomice (pronounced Ostermeecher) is home to what is now one of Europe's largest techno gatherings. The Czechoslovakian teknival began humbly three years ago with rock music and a hundred people. Today scores of sound systems attract thousands of visitors from all over Europe. Hostomice enjoys not only the music the festival provides, but also the added source of income the visitors generate in the local pubs and shops each year. Unlike his British counterparts, the Mayor of Hostomice is 100% behind the event, and hopes that the annual 'teknival' will increase in size the longer it runs. The Czech people have been open-minded enough to see the positive advantages such an event can bring to a small community. But the event has benefits for both sides: currently British travellers/ravers can also enjoy the idyllic scenery, the cheap beer and food prices and the lack of police attention. Many feel it is a magical and friendly, though it is being corrupted by the West ( two huge Macdonalds buildings grace the centre of of Prague). Having never even heard of the word 'teknival' until a few days before leaving Britain, I arrive at the site 40 kilometres south of Prague and suddenly feel very green. After a 30 hour journey in the back of a van on top of a 2K sound system everyone is glad to smell the clean Czech air. The huge field is scattered with vans, trucks, dogs, people and three large circus tents. The music has started and the vodka is out in force.
Miles from home At this point it hits me that I am miles from home without even a tent to my name. I hardly know anybody at all and I wonder "Will I fit in here?" I don't have dreads, or a skinhead and - shock,horror - my clothes are clean on! My peers looked incredibly with it - where have I been for the last three years? Dreading (excuse the pun) being on the receiving end of an 'inverse' kind of snobbery and I wondered if you had to be an authentic full-time traveller or are 'weekenders' accepted?" "There are elitist idiots who don't have the free party spirit, but I think

you are generally accepted as long as you are ready to accept it, " says a reassuring James from Desert Storm, a system most famous for going to Bosnia during the fighting. Network 23 (formerly the Spiral Tribe)'s Debbie agrees, "There are ravers here, not just travellers and we all cook and eat together. Its our individual small differences that gives the group as a whole its strength. We encourage all types of people to get into it." J. of Jiba sysdems comments, "We're not all crusties here, just normal people having a laugh, but some people will always attempt to ghetto-ise and are naturally horrible to each other if given the chance." I take heed, decide to become a very low profile observer for the duration of my visit, and thank my lucky stars I had packed a pair of camouflage pants.

CZECH

With their big tops,loud music and entertainers, teknivals ARE the travelling circus' of the late-20th century. Amy Garner went in search of the new DIY culture in Czechoslovakia and found an alternative
As a newcomer I am alternately educated, befriended and quite often held at arms length. A manic three days ensue. Friday night is electrically and chemically charged with people running round like deranged animals. Saturday is hazy, with many people in the recovery position (ie. curled up asleep) or cooling down at a nearby man-made lake until early evening. A lot of energy has now dissipated and Saturday night is less manic, with a rash of wood fires drawing people together like moths. In the early hours it is barely dark before it gets light again. As shrouded figures stumble through a thick and heavy mist, the camp takes on a Medieval aura.

Magic at work For me Sunday is 'come down' day. There isn't a lot happening, so I spend the afternoon watching eight semi-naked young men throw themselves around the 'Spiral' tent as if possessed of demons. Entertainment indeed. It is a blessing that a man-made lake is within walking distance, because the sun beats down during most of the five day stay. By Monday the majority of Czech visitors have gone back to their 9 to 5 jobs. Its an anti-climax untill a huge thunderstorm provides a dramatic festival finale that night. Network 23 flyers proclaim teknivals to be "...Hard-core, spontaneous, free-form events... Coalitions of sound systems gravitate towards a spot, set up and then play for as long as possible..."
The network chose to call the gatherings 'teknivals', because the connotations of a free festival were thought to be too negative after the widespread publicity surrounding the infamous Castlemorten gathering. Anyone who is a part of the European free festival 'scene' knows it is very much like the one that existed in Britain prior to the Criminal Justice Act, except that far from being "spontaneous" it is highly organised and spread over countries instead of counties. The uniting factor is dance music's relentless pulse. Network members speak of the group's collective ambition to take techno to the world by cutting out "...the money-making crap". As one member said, "We are a transmitter for the new music. Techno is the music that will put people back in touch with the earth." Network 23 may be one of the longest running techno outfits, but they are not the only ones on a mission. James from Desert Storm feels equally passionately about the music, "Techno music is the heartbeat of the planet. It connects us back up with where we are coming from. It wakes us up." Converts as young as 17 have saved up and bought their own sound systems to take around Europe. For example, Hekate from London, who at the time had an average age of 18 years.

It was tempting to never to return home and I contemplated sending a scribbled note to my mum explaining that I'd ran off with a travelling circus. Then I came back to reality. Despite this summer's success stories it would be wrong to paint a picture of Europe as some sort of Utopian travellers dream. Trouble still does occur and the travellers are still a target for abuse. The weekend before the Hostomice teknival, a group of travellers gathered at a wasteland site called Labinski Moss in Prague for a small party by Lego. All was fine until Sunday when police with guns turned up behaving violently. Teknival organiser Steve, from the Bedlamsound system, recalls, "They were firing in the air, smashing windows, slashing tyres, hitting women who were holding babies with truncheons. They looked wired, as though they'd been on Czech speed. There was no reasoning with them. Some of them were even laughing. The look in their eyes: you just knew you had to get out of there as quick as possible, they could easily just shoot me. They didn't give a toss about human life." Several groups reported French and Spanish authorities as quite heavy now, though Portugal was still considered to be reasonable. With what appears to be a slight clampdown, will it only be a matter of time before we see an 'anti-rave' bill winging its way this time through European Parliament? For the love of it "Who knows?," says Steph of Total Resistance/CrowBar Cafe, a collective formed in Portugal, "The longer gatherings are happening out here the more people will come down. The plus side of being forced out of Britain is that you get to see a bit of the world. I hope the scene in Europe will just get stronger and that the travelling people keep strong. I'm doing this because it is what I love doing. I'll work for it and I believe everyone else will too." The success of the Hostomice teknival, and the one in Den Haag the following week, highlights the idiocy of British law: a law which means many hundreds of British citizens have to travel for several days, across several countries in order to party with those they share a common bond when there are the same facilities here in Britain. One thinks of the Pagan ethic of "If it harms no one do what thou will." When proposals have been made to utilise dissused Ministry of Defence air fields and rejected, it does seem illogical. But though I can't think of many people who'd still be grinning after being forced into exile but the people I found this July were doing just that. Whatever the future holds for techno-festivals, FRONTLINE hopes that they continue to laugh in the face of adversity and come out on top.