What a horrible first encounter with ParookaVille…
What a horrible first encounter with Parookaville. Of course the Germans are not known for their "cultural" hospitality.. But this was next level.
After arriving to the festival grounds (which was already a logistic nightmare) -And spending 45 minutes in the burning sun to have my ticket scanned- I was denied acces to the festival because the name on my ticket was N. Lastname instead of Name Lastname. I had to go out of the line, to a small boxoffice where I was told to pay 30 euro's for registering the ticket to my name. SAY WHAT? The ticket was on my name..
Then another thing which was was really weird, nowhere on the festival/bar it's mentioned that you pay pfand. We found out a long the way. Then when we wanted to return our empty cans of Bacardi the girl at the desk told us: No you can not return that pfand here, we do not sell bacardi in this bar, go back to the bar you bought it (20 minutes walk).