Cannes in a Van Film Festival 2013: blog 4

Day 4

After spending several days in our homely but boggy campsite we decided to leave the cabin in search of internet access and dirt food. Packing up the van with all the computer kit, we shuffled off to the local ‘golden arches’. Shamelessly ordering a mini feast for ourselves we retreated to a well lit corner in order to set up a media hub. Who says Cannes isn’t glamourous!

Insidious black clouds began to crawl over the hills of Mandeleiu and the rain grew fiercer. Instead of hiding away with our tails between our legs in the safety of our prefab home, we decided to brave the Croisette with True Brit spirit. We were not to be put off by a couple droplets (a gross understatement) of precipitation as we set up a weather-inspired music playlist (think The Smiths, Prince, and Ross’s personal favorite Belinda Carlisle).

With the woeful weather and the current taxi strike, we slid into Cannes with little hope of finding a spot to park. Our first indication that trouble was ahead was when traffic to the Croisette began to be diverted. Everyone was driving like crazed insects in a world gone mad. The rain didn’t stop us and certainly wasn’t going to stop the usual party animals from traipsing up and down, hungry for a dance floor to break.

We drove from the Palais de Festival to the Martinez in search for a parking space but to no avail. This didn’t sway our thirst for screening short films as we looped around the back alleys (past the drunken nightmares that was the populace of Cannes), in order to try again and again. We dropped Ross off outside the Martinez to grab some footage in the rain but the sixth time we looped round, we got lucky with our usual spot outside Le Quirly Glacier.

We set up the van and pumped some music out only to find Ross half way up the Croisette, alone and cold without a cigarette. As we hurried back, Ross noticed a bewildered paparazzi photographer following a few steps behind us. We obviously looked the part as we can only imagine he thought that we’d been tipped off as too where Cheryl Cole was spending her soggy night out (thats right, she’s in town.).

Once back at the van, we continued to blast music towards the public before showing a superb stream of independent work. This continued late into the night until a visit from the noise patrol put pay to our vibrating bass. With the rain subsiding along with the crowds we decided to call it a night. A good, wet night.