By David Palmer

Gent is home to the largest street festival in Europe - during 10 days and nights in the middle of July over 1 million people attend. It was originally a traditional occasion associated with an 'incident' involving the Emperor Charles V but by the 1960s it had deteriorated into an elitist event with little relevance to ordinary Genters.

That all changed in 1968 when in the revolutionary sprit of that year a bunch of people built a stage in front of St. Jacobs and performed music, poetry and other stuff. The alternative Festen grew despite the hostility of the bourgeoisie until one day they woke up and realised how much business it was bringing into the city. From then on it never looked back. It now incorporates at least seven sound stages squeezed into various spaces including a World Music festival on a pontoon over the river, a Jazz festival, puppet festival, street performance, kids events, numerous gigs and plays, opera and dance events and other unpredictable and indescribable weirdness.

At night the streets resemble a Breughel kermis painting. By around 6pm every available space in front of a shop seems to have a food stall or temporary bar. Vrijdag Markt is transformed into a funfair and portable pissoirs are installed everywhere there's a drain gulley. By midnight the place is a seething mass of happy inebriates wading through a sea of discarded plastic glasses.

Passing out and sleeping it off in the street is tolerated with the police keeping a benevolent eye on such casualties. By 2am only the hardcore and the unconscious are left but many bars keep on going, 't Galgenhuisje until 5am. Miraculously, by 9am all the debris is cleared away ready for the whole thing to happen all over again later the same day. (Incidentally, I've never witnessed a fight or arrest on any of the several occasions I've attended)

The whole thing is brilliantly organised chaos but they need every one of those 50,000 students to work the bars, restaurants and clean up the mess every day. When it's finally all over the place not surprisingly sinks into a coma to recover.