I've known Dorin Delcă for many years. He seems fierce, but isn't he! He's acidic when he plays with posts on Facebook, especially when it comes to fake people, injustices and people without a backbone. He's a balanced man, a hard worker, a father, a company manager with dozens of employees. In the evening, I saw his post about his experience at Beach, Please! 2025. I asked his permission to take it over because I think it's one of the best festival chronicles. The following text belongs to Dorin, I just played with the intertitles.
Statement of Principles (or How to Not Like Anything and Still Go)
"To be clear from the start, I would like to mention the following:
I don't like and don't understand current music (trap, mumble rap, and other crap like that).
I have no respect for the "artistic" act performed by these so-called stars.
I can't possibly like these idiots with millions of views on YouTube, but who lip-sync in front of the audience.
I had an extremely bad opinion of this festival.
I don't like this Selly kid (maybe because he showed me and my generation that a bold teenager with some cool ideas can achieve in a few years what we couldn't achieve in a lifetime).
From forbidden to… three nights of fun (with dad in the background)
At the behest of my son (a 17-year-old on the edge and with an athlete's physique), after initially saying he was out of the question, and after consulting with my own, we decided to allow him to go to Beach Please - for one evening, as he asked.
We changed our minds because we realized that Darius has grown up, that we need to have more trust in him, and that, anyway, he will leave home next year...
The plan: three nights, but with paternal escort
I decided to accompany him. Not to supervise him, but to see with the "old man's" eyes if everything was okay. Plus, I thought TAXI - DADDY would be useful for the boys after a night of partying.
Day 1: festival scent, swearing and respect for the policeman with a column
So, here I am, a "General Access" ticket holder for the entire duration of the festival.
Day 1 (for us – not otherwise, but on Wednesday we were both at work, and for him there was also a 2h workout, so we decided to go on Thursday, Friday and Saturday)
Thursday, July 10. 19:30 p.m. After, following the instructions of my wife, I made myself look pretty (including perfume, so I wouldn't smell like Santa Claus), we got in the car and headed for the festival.
Of course, the calculation at home doesn't match the one at the fair, and we arrive at around 22:00 PM in one of the festival's many parking lots.
But it's still good: in the column, a young police non-commissioned officer made my day – he would remove all the Melteni people who tried to get in front and politely send them to wait in line for another turn (about 1 extra hour like that). 
). Respect!
). Respect!Then it's about a 20-minute walk (with the obligatory swearing, because hey... I needed a music festival at 48).
The road to the entrance was well marked. Stewards, policemen and security guards were kind and respectful. They guided us correctly to a well-established lane and we were invited to leave the roadway, because on that road the coaches/minibuses that provided transportation for the participants or, simply, cars were driving towards the parking lot.
And when we got in… shock and horror: a traffic jam. Barriers down, and security guards asking us to stop so that all pedestrians would be protected because the train was going to pass through. Oops… I say… look, daddy, these guys really take care of the kids.
Next to us, two drug officers and a dog. At a signal from them, a group of 5 boys is pulled out of the crowd for a routine check (they had nothing). Hmmm… interesting.
We reach the gates. Good luck with the boys, because I didn't see that there were separate entrances for girls/boys and I almost entered with the ladies. . When the boys entered, a young, respectful agent asked me to take out everything I had in my bag. They confiscated: bottles, nicotine packs, chewing gum, penknives, pills, ointments, etc.
. When the boys entered, a young, respectful agent asked me to take out everything I had in my bag. They confiscated: bottles, nicotine packs, chewing gum, penknives, pills, ointments, etc.Could something forbidden have been brought in? Possibly. But the guards were really doing their job and only became more intrusive when someone aroused suspicion.
Young people of all kinds: some frumpy, some well-dressed, some naked, some dressed, some fat, some athletic... but all of them - absolutely all of them - happy, smiling, noisy.
And, of course, the inevitable battle cry: "C.AIE…!" But let's not be horrified. Think of "C.AIE" as a "Vasile" without the... p.l.
And I went in.
First thing: another drug squad with a dog.
Mosh Pit vs Furie: a father face to face with the new tribes
First shock: haven't we arrived in a place with drugged zombies? Aren't the young people depraved? Aren't they naked? Are they drunk? A place where everyone enters as they please and does what they want? No? Hmmm...
Darius suggests we take a tour: main stage, stage 2, stage 3 ("for the old people," he says laughing), KissFM, supermarket, food court (hamburgers, mini-burgers, pancakes, hotdogs, donuts, pizza, etc.), Ferris wheel, casino, barbershop, tattoo, make-up area… a whole little town. It seemed a little kitsch to me, but you had everything and you didn't have to go out.
The first "big" artist takes the stage (don't ask me who, I have no idea, and honestly, I don't care). My son asks me to come closer to the stage, blending into the crowd (his friends were already in front). But first, knowing me by heart, he gave me the briefing!
– "Hey, Dad, make sure you don't slap anyone, or the guards will pull you out of the crowd and throw you out!"
The artist “expresses” himself: a kind of “aaaa… aaaa… bleaaa… aaaaa… aaaaa… bleaaah”. Every now and then, the crowd would shout something like “flawless…” or at least that’s what I understood. Okay….I didn’t understand anything.
But the kids... were happy, screaming, pushing each other, "singing", laughing.
Some devils next to me... started pushing each other.
"No, trouble!", I say. "These guys are making me angry!"
Now hold on, you little brat, I tell myself in my head. I've done some calculations... they push into me, they hit me, congestion... I'll crack a little and be on my way.
Back then… they were pushing each other so softly, it was like they were bouncing. Every now and then, an idiot would throw water at those pushing each other (I was amused by the thought of what would have happened in my time… if you had thrown water at the rockers who were making a fuss…).
My son, saliva… he says… this is Mosh Pit.
– “What is it, huh?”
– “Mosh pit,” he repeated to me, trying to protect me from those who were pushing each other!
– "I mean… a kind of rage or pogo, but for p.zde???"
He, such a little man...
– “No, Dad… it’s a Mosh Pit. They’re gathering in a circle/pen and pushing each other around, and if you don’t mind, I’d like to join the crowd for this.”
I, protector:
– "Hey, Dad, it's not okay, it sucks, it's not necessary" etc.
But my mother popped into my mind, asking me after "parties" like: why am I bruised, why don't I have a tooth anymore, why did I come home in only my underwear, why don't I have a T-shirt, why don't I have any pants anymore, etc.
So… I told him it was okay for him to go too, but to be careful not to be hit by the others (I forgot to tell you: at the entrance the bodyguard said to him, seeing his fists: "Well, boy… I hope you don't get angry and beat him up, because we have problems
Observation time: the old man on an undercover mission
The monkey finishes the "concert" (about 45 minutes of playback... like a deaf-mute) and I start to croak too:
– "Darius, look at the difference between our concerts and this zirconium with millions of views on YouTube: when the world will light their flashlights and sing along with the artist, tell me too."
– "Stay calm, dad... we don't understand what he's saying either."
Eee... my dears, and after this "artistic moment", after this "flawless" has reproduced itself... the great migration begins.
The whole crowd started moving: some towards stage 2, some towards the food area, some towards the toilets… it was a crazy mess that took my breath away. And everyone was walking in all directions, many of them holding hands so as not to get lost (because you got a bit lost and couldn't really find your way back to your group unless you took your landmarks very carefully and accurately).
It was chaos, but organized chaos. And everywhere: undercover police, gendarmes, firefighters, security guards.
We go out, socialize, drink a glass of water, walk around, listen to other artists, and eagerly wait (I don't) for the second important artist of the evening to take the stage.
After scolding them for wanting to join the crowd and stand as close to the stage as possible and not on the sidelines picking up chicks (because hey... they're beautiful!), being realistic, I retreated to the meeting place, because neither my physique nor my age recommended me anymore.
So I started studying: how many are drunk? Drugs? Aggression? Girls who are threatened?
You're going to curse me, because I was also frustrated because my expectations were invalidated, but... I haven't really seen anything like this.
There were also a few more dazed, but calm ones. Noisy, to be sure. "C.AIE" was the order of the day.
But... none of the misfortunes I expected to see.
The first night? Frustration for me (I was waiting to be able to tell the child that he had no business in that place, that it was too debauchery, that it was depravity, that…).
Maximum delight for him, for his cousin from Denmark, and for his friends.
It was… warming up. Until about 01:30. Because Friday… work.
I'm back with DAY 2, DAY 3 and, to the dismay of some, with "...these conclusions" that will certainly not please those of my generation."
