It was the winter of 2022 when I first met Retha, a tall, beautiful woman from Cape Town. She had come to rent my house on Lefkada island for the winter months. Are you sure? I remember thinking. It seemed almost surreal that someone as cosmopolitan as she appeared would choose Lefkada during its quietest, darkest time of year. Winter on the island is not for the faint-hearted—empty, damp, and shrouded in long stretches of rain. And my house? Tucked away, far from any close neighbors. Was she crazy, or perhaps incredibly sane? Later I would come to understand the similarities of my Lefkada view with the place she grew up in. The breathtaking area of Llandudno in Cape Town.

That winter, I spent most of my time in Athens, but for the first time, I felt completely at ease knowing someone was there, caring for the house that doubles as my hospitality business during the summer months. We began exchanging texts, and the more we talked, the more I liked her. By the time I returned to the island around Christmas, her husband, JB, had joined her. We spent hours talking, sharing stories, and forming a friendship that felt effortless and genuine.

One evening, while chatting about festivals and cultural events, I casually brought up Burning Man. You know, that iconic desert festival in the US where every braid-wearing influencer dreams of being photographed—semi-naked on their led-lit bikes, in towering platform boots, or dramatically hanging from some artistic wooden structure. That’s when JB leaned in with a smile and said, “I know something more authentic.” He began telling me about the regional Burns (lets call them smaller Burning Man festivals around the world) and the culture surrounding them. The second largest is AfrikaBurn, which, as he passionately insisted—drawing from his own experiences as a two-time attendee—has now become the authentic version of what Burning Man used to be, before it was commercialized and turned into little more than a backdrop for Instagram monetization. A spark ignited that night—a curiosity I couldn’t shake.

Fast forward three months, to the end of their lease. It was spring by then, and we celebrated with a beautiful hike through Lefkada’s mountains. As a gesture of thanks for their stay, Retha and JB surprised me with the most unexpected gift: tickets to AfrikaBurn 2023! “We’re buying yours as soon as they go online,” they said. I was speechless, over the moon with excitement.

For those who still have no idea what I am talking about, AfrikaBurn is a festival, held annually in the vast, otherworldly Karoo Desert of South Africa. It’s a week-long gathering of about 10k people (as of 2023), centered on radical self-expression, art, community, and sustainability. There, participants create a temporary city filled with large-scale wooden art installations (burned at the end of the week), themed camps, performances, and interactive experiences.

The preparation began months in advance, leading up to April of the following year. My now close and exceptionally organized friends managed everything with military precision—a literal Excel sheet detailing tasks for each month. There was a meticulous cost breakdown, camper van rentals, tent structures, bike hires, food and water logistics, and even a special license JB needed to tow the camper van. It was overwhelming at times, but their planning ensured that by the time we arrived, the only thing left to do was immerse ourselves in the experience.

And what an experience it was. AfrikaBurn is more than a festival—it’s a universe of its own, and once you’re there, all you can do is try to take it all in. And trust me, it’s a lot.

At first, I didn’t know what to expect. JB’s vivid descriptions had left me impatient, excited, and just a little scared. The Burns, whether large or small, all follow the same core principles. They’re about the creation of a temporary town—a place where people gather to connect, admire art, party, and explore. It’s a celebration of impermanence, a decompression valve, a brief escape from the “default world,” as Burners call everyday life.

It’s this temporary nature—the knowledge that everything, from the tents and artworks to the very people themselves, will disappear after a week—that gives it its value. It creates a unique bond between participants, and a deeper appreciation of the fleeting. This isn’t a music festival, and the organizers make that clear. Artists and performers are unpaid. There’s no lineup or headliner, no schedule telling you where to be. It’s all about discovery. You wander through the playa—the heart of it all—and stumble across mini-parties or installations. The DJ playing at a random camp might be a global icon, but if you don’t already know them, they’re just another Burner, enjoying the moment like you are. It’s an environment that radiates equality and removes barriers.

Inside the festival, almost everything is allowed—creativity, expression, and freedom in their purest forms. Even the most reserved individuals (like me) eventually let their guard down. Inclusivity is not just a principle; it’s the core of the event. From the moment we passed through the gates, the warmth was palpable. Smiles, laughter, and heartfelt “Welcome to the desert!” greetings came not just from volunteers but from fellow Burners. Those smiles were contagious. They made us smile back and instinctively do the same for the people arriving after us. Half an hour there and we felt like part of that big colourful community.

Getting there.

We arrived after a 3.5-hour drive from Cape Town, a journey filled with awe as the landscape shifted dramatically along the way to Tankwa. We started under the rain, passing through mountainous areas lush with greenery and waterfalls spontaneously forming from the downpour. Then, the terrain flattened, transitioning into agricultural land dotted with small villages. We made a quick stop in one of them for gas and to investigate some unsettling noises coming from the connection between our pickup truck and the camper van. Thankfully, it turned out to be nothing, and we were back on track, heading toward the most challenging part of the road: the infamous dusty, bumpy, tyre eating R355 dirt track leading to the gate or “Die Hek”.

Before leaving civilisation entirely, there’s a final stop: The Padstal. It’s your last chance to pick up anything you might have forgotten or send a final text before phone reception disappears. This is also where you’ll start seeing other Burners, easily identifiable by their excitement and eclectic gear, and the reality of where you’re heading truly sinks in.

Entrance.

Once at the gate, cheerful volunteers directed us to temporarily park our camper van while we went through ticketing. For first-timers, there’s a quirky initiation ceremony—don’t worry, it’s just a roll in the dirt followed by ringing the festival’s bell. JB hadn’t warned us, so the surprise caught us off guard but made the moment all the more memorable.

Camping.

Once inside, our first task was to find a suitable spot to park and set up camp. We’d already studied the map and decided on a spot toward the back, the more calm side of the camp. Picture the layout of a this temporary city like a flat Ancient Greek amphitheater: the playa is the “orchestra” or the central stage, a vast open area filled with art installations, while all the camps are arranged in semi circles around it. Roads are marked with numbers and letters—an essential system because navigating at night can be tricky. It’s also a good idea to familiarise yourself with visible landmarks early on to avoid disorientation, though there are always volunteers on hand to help in an emergency.

Our designated emergency meeting point was the Eiffel Tower installation near the French-themed tent, where we planned to connect with our French expat friends (coming also from Athens) who happened to be attending the Burn that year. Once our tent and camper van setup were complete, our temporary home for the next six days was ready—and so were we, eager to dive in and explore this extraordinary world. Our temporary address was to be 4-ish and Eject in the precious Quiet zone. Highly recommended if you plan to sleep properly. The more to the front you camp the more noisy and loud it gets as the music stops only for something like two hours in the morning.

Exploring.

The first days of AfrikaBurn, when it’s still a small, budding village, offered a calm and welcoming start. This was when experienced Burners gathered, making it easier to connect without the busyness of the weekend crowds. Each day, we biked through the playa, exploring the evolving art installations that transformed the central space. These vibrant, interactive pieces, destined to be burned at the week’s end, filled us with awe.

With the desert’s hot days and chilly nights, renting a caravan and a stretch tent was the perfect choice. It gave us a cozy haven to retreat to while fully embracing this extraordinary world—a place where emotions deepen, creativity thrives, and boundaries begin to blur.

Given the size of the area, renting a bike is highly recommended for getting around. We had arranged ours through “Pedals for Peace”, a service that made the process seamless. Most people either walk or bike unless they’ve registered a mutant vehicle—and oh, what a spectacle those vehicles are!

Mutant vehicles.

The mutant vehicles ranged from small, personalized carts to intricately designed trucks that doubled as moving party hubs. Adorned with colourful decorations, top-notch sound systems, and DJs playing beats, these mobile creations drove around the playa, stopping at different spots each night to spread their energy. They weren’t just transportation—they were art, a testament to the creativity, passion, and love for the Burn that defines the event. Their presence transformed the led-lit landscape into a constantly shifting, vibrant tapestry, adding another layer of magic to the experience.

Gifting.

Then there was the beautiful culture of gifting. At AfrikaBurn, everything operates on a gift economy—except for ice, the only item available for purchase. This means self-reliance is key, and proper planning is absolutely essential. Luckily for us, Retha (essentially our “mom” for the trip) had meticulously prepared pre-made, delicious meals that she froze just before we left. These meals were enough to feed the three of us for the entire week. All we had to do was boil some rice or pasta to pair with them and heat everything up.

Our portable fridge ran off the car’s battery (thank you JB for being able to handle all the technical parts), and we had packed the recommended 5 liters of water per person per day for drinking, cooking, and showering. Water conservation wasn’t just practical—it was also about respecting the desert environment that was hosting us. Puddles of excess water had to be avoided or used sparingly, allowing the ground time to absorb them. Washing my long, thick hair was completely off the table, which finally explained the braiding trend at the Burns!

Despite our preparation—which even allowed us to help out our neighbors—it was comforting to know the festival’s culture of generosity created a safety net. As mentioned earlier, nothing is for sale, but the unwritten rule is to bring something to share. We had brought tsipouro and dried figs from Greece, which, much to my surprise, turned out to be a massive hit.

Main Camps and the the binnekring.

This culture of gifting became a harmonious exchange, like a symbolic currency of kindness and generosity. At the center of it all was the binnekring (inner ring), the “front row” theme camps. Here, you could find everything—spaces for relaxation, art installations, inspiring workshops, and, of course, unforgettable parties. It was a kaleidoscope of creativity and connection, the beating heart of the Burn and the meeting point for planned or unplanned encounters.

Camps offered a great variety of gifts: curry meals (shoutout to Al Euzza camp!), crepes, champagne (naturally from the French camp), handmade clay pendants, yoga classes, sound therapy sessions—the list goes on. It’s impossible to experience everything, as chance, curiosity, and good timing determine what you’ll discover.

For 24 hours a day, these hospitable spaces became like an extended family for us. We wandered freely, sitting with people from all over the world and engaging in fascinating conversations. We relaxed in their beautifully crafted spaces, joined workshops, or danced at their unforgettable parties.

The burns.

As the days passed, the small village that began on Monday gradually transformed into a crazy, vibrant city by the weekend. This is when the big burns take place—a series of ceremonial events where the wooden artworks are set ablaze, each one drawing the community together in a wide circle of reflection and awe. It’s an almost mystical experience, uniting everyone in the celebration of impermanence.

For safety, an inner circle of volunteers guards the fires, but beyond them, the atmosphere is electric. Some participants even choose to run laps around the flames, embracing the ultimate expression of liberation—going fully naked. Each burn feels special, filled with meaning and connection, as the artwork is consumed by fire.

The burns are scheduled throughout the weekend, starting with smaller pieces and culminating on Sunday with the Temple Burn, the most sacred event of them all. The Temple, often a stunning architectural ephemeral masterpiece, serves as a space for quiet reflection throughout the week. People visit to meditate, write messages, or inscribe the names of loved ones they’ve lost on its walls. Naturally, I added my dad’s name. It felt like something I needed to do—a small, meaningful act of remembrance in this extraordinary space.

Unlike the other burns, the Temple Burn happens in complete silence. As the structure is engulfed in flames, the music and party noise cease, and a profound stillness falls over the crowd. It’s a deeply emotional and unifying moment, a powerful conclusion to an unforgettable experience.

Leave no trace.

An important thing. AfrikaBurn operates on a “leave no trace” principle. There’s an absence of garbage bins, a reminder for each participant to be accountable for their “MOOP” (matter out of place), which essentially means that when the festival goers leave, the desert must remain as pristine as it was before. That extends as far as sequins, feathers and things that may fall off your costume and are not easy to detect and pick up (especially during the pitch black nights on the playa). It is advised to carry a small bag with you for your everyday essentials, your own reusable cup for drinks or water, as well as taking your trash back to your tent.

The dreaded toilets…

Something I couldn’t leave unmentioned… (sorry). 😛

One of the biggest fears Retha and I had about the festival was facing the notorious AfrikaBurn toilets! Unlike other festivals with standard chemical toilets—dirty and smelly, yes, but at least equipped with proper locking doors—this was a whole new level of experience.

Picture this: white plastic tanks filled with chemical blue liquid, topped with a wooden cube structure… with no roof. Inside, there was a toilet seat, and through the hole, you could see… well, everything. To make things more, let’s say, interesting, your head was completely out in the open for all passersby to see, and the front doors didn’t really close properly.

The toilets were arranged in rows, spaced out by a few meters, and to reach them, you climbed a small wooden staircase. Let’s just say, this was a unique setup. My biggest fear was daytime trips, where the lack of privacy felt especially daunting. Thankfully, nighttime made it a bit easier, but in true AfrikaBurn “let your guard down” spirit, I eventually got used to it.

And if I could adjust, trust me, literally anyone can. It’s all part of the charm (or challenge) of the Burn!

In short, AfrikaBurn is a bizarre and intense ephemeral place that pushes you out of your comfort zone in countless ways. In return, it offers breathtaking landscapes, profound connections, opportunities for self-discovery, and a space for experimentation without judgment. It’s a powerful disruption to the ordinary, leaving an impact that lingers long after the event ends. So be prepared.

Lessons carved in the dust.

For me personally, AfrikaBurn was the start of a long awaited journey. Towards freedom. It presented itself as a canvas where as soon as I started painting my boundaries, the next moment I would watch them dissolve and disappear together with our audacious water puddles in the desert. The same desert where I learned the power and the beauty of connections forged beyond the reality of digital reception.

Where I saw people of all ethnicities, all backgrounds, all sexual directions, all body types, all colors, all religions, all ages, in equal percentages thus making no group a “minority”. Where I saw prosthetic legs. Five of them and I am sure there were more. Where a man on a wheelchair coming for 10 years in a row, was -with the help of his caregiver- giving out shots to people dancing to the sounds of “Unwritten”. Where old men dressed in cage suits and transgender people fully naked, walked around proudly. Where great artists shared their art for free.

There, I remembered again how easy it is to make conversations if there is no data reception and I understood the importance of a genuine smile or a nice compliment. I allowed myself to let go of many boundaries, experiment, and didn’t regret it. I learned things and realised things about myself that I didn’t know before. I cried from the intensity of emotions and fell in love a tiny bit.

I went out of my comfort zone but I also allowed myself to remain my usual introvert self without any pressure. Everything just came naturally. It aligned. And that was a precious lesson that I will carry with me forever.

I left with the wish to be able to replicate a bit of this in the “default world” and I did my best to keep it as long as I could as an act of resistance to my own restrictions and beliefs. I felt I was finally letting go of past trauma. (The reason also for my absence from this blog for all these years). Or at least started to realise that I should put the right name to it if I was to ever start healing. Abuse. And through an unplanned but cathartic journey, I finally, for the first time, allowed myself to start letting go. And just for that, I will always be grateful.

Thank you my friends. The gift of “the ticket to AB”, turned out to be much more valuable that I imagined.

Till our next adventure…

🔥🔥🔥

Love, Dione

________________________________________________________

List of essentials to ensure you’re well-prepared for Afrika Burn:

1. Shelter: A sturdy tent, caravan, or shade structure to shield you from the desert sun and occasional sandstorms. We rented a caravan, with an extra awning plus a big stretch tent that they set up for us there and we had a super comfortable experience.
2. Bedding: Sleeping bag, blankets, and comfortable bedding for the cold desert nights.
3. Water: Sufficient water supply to stay hydrated throughout the event. Aim for at least 5 litres per person per day (for washing and drinking).
4. Food and Snacks: Non-perishable and easy-to-prepare meals. Consider dietary needs and bring ample snacks to keep energy levels up.
5. Costumes/Outfits: Expressive and vibrant clothing or costumes for the theme-based days and nights. Embrace creativity but keep in mind that sequins and feathers that might fall off are considered “MOOP”.
6. Hygiene Essentials: Biodegradable soap, wet wipes, hand sanitizer, and personal toiletries. Don’t forget sunscreen and lip balm for the harsh sun. The toilets at AfrikaBurn are an experience of their own.
7. Lighting: Battery powered headlamps, flashlights, or decorative lighting for navigating the playa at night. Also extra batteries.
8. Reusable Cups/Utensils: Bring your own reusable cups, plates, and utensils for meals and drinks. It aligns with the event’s eco-friendly principles.
9. MOOP Bag: A bag for collecting MOOP (Matter Out Of Place) to adhere to the “leave no trace” ethos.
10. Gifts: Consider bringing small items or tokens to gift to others. It’s an integral part of the Burn culture.
11. First Aid Kit: Basic medical supplies for minor injuries or health concerns.
12. Comfortable Footwear: Sturdy, closed-toe shoes for walking on the playa and exploring artworks. Plus socks.
13. Bike: A bicycle for efficient transportation around the expansive playa. We had pre-rented ours via “pedals for peace” bike rental.
14. Identification and Ticket: Have your identification and event ticket at an easy to find spot when entering the event.
15. Cash: While most things are gifted, having some cash for emergencies or purchasing ice is advisable.
16. Positive Attitude and Open Mind: The most essential of all! Embrace the experience with an open heart and an open mind.

One last note: Please stay informed about any updated guidelines or recommendations from the event organisers before heading out.

Be respectful, embrace the -and brace for- intensity and enjoy the Burn!