Spirit Of London — A personal story | by Lynah

When I was a child, my older sister introduced me to Dance Music. Most of it was EuroDance, but there were also national artists from our homeland.

In one of the first editions, she, already an adult at the time, was lucky enough to attend a festival called ‘Spirit Of London’

That festival was known for being themed. Each year had a different concept (for example: Wonderland: inspired by “Alice in Wonderland”; Black: where everyone dressed in black).

I don’t remember what the theme was the year she went, but she came back with so many stories to tell. She told me every detail, still excited (even though she was clearly exhausted).

She talked about what it was like to see each artist perform and sing, about the flashing lights, the beautiful boys and girls who were there, and that feeling of music running through her whole body…

That was magical to me. It was as if someone were telling me a fairy tale.

I held onto that image for years, longing for the day I’d be old enough to feel what she felt.

It was so hard for us. Those events were expensive and at least two hours away from home. And we didn’t live in a city safe enough to risk going to those kinds of places.

Still, I kept that dream alive and strong. I wanted it, and I would do anything to make it happen.

Around 2009, I don’t remember the exact date, there was going to be a “White” edition, where everyone would wear white.

That time, she couldn’t go either. As I said, it was too expensive and too dangerous, so we both stayed home.

However, a radio station was going to broadcast the event live for anyone tuning in.

Of course, it started at 11:00 p.m. and went on until the next morning.

It was the first time I gave up my sleep for an event I couldn’t even attend.

I told my parents not to worry, since it was the weekend and I didn’t have school, I’d have plenty of time to rest later.

I grabbed my dad’s phone (one of those old ones that could only make calls), tuned it to the radio, got comfy on the couch, and waited for the event to start.

I put on my headphones, wrapped myself in a blanket, and listened for as long as I could. I fought bravely against sleep all night long. I was determined to catch every part of the broadcast.

My main goal was to hear my beloved Dan Bălan, the Romanian artist I was absolutely fascinated by (not that I’m not anymore, I’m just not a teenager now).

It was almost a miracle for artists from so far away to attend events like that, he crossed the planet for it, and I’m sure it was expensive and exhausting for his whole team.

I got to hear him live, and even from afar, my heart raced and my body felt the energy of everything that was happening.

Unfortunately, exhaustion won, and I didn’t make it past 2:00 a.m. I went to my room to sleep, and my sister asked me: