Returning to Shambala this summer after a three-year break felt like rediscovering an old friend. Having been around ten times, I thought I knew what to expect, but so much had changed since 2022 that the experience felt wonderfully fresh. Some beloved staples, like the iconic Chai Wallahs and the riotous hedonism of Kamikaze, are now part of festival history. Saying goodbye to them stung, but the joy of Shambala is that it’s never static. The festival reinvents itself year after year, and this time I found myself exploring new corners that quickly became favourites.
Daytimes were as playful as ever, with families and friends filling the fields with laughter, glitter, and energy. The vintage chair-o-planes acted as a whimsical centrepiece, spinning riders in a blur of colour as the heart of the site pulsed around them. Freedom Friday’s green theme saw thousands of festivalgoers cloaked in every shade of green imaginable – lime, mint, sage, forest, olive – turning the site into a living, breathing emerald kaleidoscope. It was the perfect embodiment of Shambala’s spirit: expressive, joyful, and entirely free.
Saturday’s “Pun Intended” theme unleashed a wave of creativity and mischief. My friend and I dressed as “Freudian Slips,” gliding around the site in our slip dresses adorned with Freudian quotes painted onto pink glittery hearts. Elsewhere, a flash mob revealed gorgeous underwear hidden beneath trench coats, and a group dressed as the London skyline were quite literally “painting the town red” as one of them was armed with a paint tray full of crimson paint, and a roller. It was absurd, brilliant, and very, very Shambala.
As the sun set and families drifted off, the festival shifted gears into its signature mayhem. Nights at Shambala are always unpredictable but reliably magical. Whether raving in a packed tent, stumbling into a hidden performance, or finding yourself in an impromptu parade, you know the night will take you somewhere unforgettable. And if you happen to lose your friends, the festival has a funny way of reuniting you under the canopy of its trees, as though guided by some benevolent force.
This year’s hidden gems were plentiful. Scattered photo booths captured spontaneous snapshots of joy. A surreal detour into the Data Mine led us through a crawlspace into a tiny neon-lit chamber, where a pirate with a microphone handed it to my friend Alex. His impromptu beatboxing set for a crowd of six was one of those spontaneous, intimate Shambala moments that feel too good to be true.
My personal highlight came in the House Party, where I spotted Sid Sharma, co-founder and creative director of Kambe Events. Having interviewed him before, it felt like a pinch-me moment to rave alongside the man whose vision has shaped so much of my festival-going life. I told him how much his work has meant to people like me, who first came to Shambala at nineteen and have been hooked ever since.
Twenty-five years on, the magic of Shambala remains untouchable. The festival continues to evolve without losing the soul that makes it so beloved. As I left the site, exhausted but exhilarated, one thought lingered above all: here’s to 25 more years of fun, freedom, and pure festival alchemy.
For the latest on Shambala visit www.shambalafestival.org
Word by Ama Samra
