The Age of Reason on Neuchâtel Vendanges
In his latest column, the humorist Christian Mukuna officially declares that the Vendanges festival in Neuchâtel has changed… or perhaps it’s simply that he has aged into a different kind of celebration. The comedian offers a tender, and at times razor-edged, perspective on a three-day festival that has long pulsed with late-night energy and fearless revelry. It’s a look at how time reorients joy, while the spirit of the festival stubbornly stays the same: a communal toast to friendship, laughter, and shared moments.
From All-Night Roams to Everyday Delights
Where once he wandered stand after stand until the city lights dimmed, Mukuna now savors a raclette at Village Suisse, claps along to the Corso fleuri, and even leaves with an official festival sweatshirt—carefully wrapped and ready to be donned on a cooler morning. He jokes about needing Voltaren Dolo for his knees, a playful nod to aging that doesn’t dull the punchlines. It’s a humorous admission that the cadence of celebration has shifted, not its essence—the joy of gathering, sharing, and letting a city’s rhythm carry you rather than chase you into the night.
Raising a Glass to Generational Differences
Yet Mukuna’s humor remains pointed where it matters: at the intersection of memory and moment. The phrase “age of reason” becomes less a quip and more a lens for a new era of conviviality, where laughter doesn’t require reckless late nights to feel earned. He suggests that progress isn’t an abandonment of energy but a reallocation of it toward conversation, shared plates, and the chorus of neighbors singing along to familiar tunes. The audience isn’t asked to age out of fun; they’re invited to age into a richer, more deliberate joy.
A Generational Ode to Conviviality
In Mukuna’s observation of the festival’s evolving soundtrack, Neuchâtel Vendanges appears as a living tradition that welcomes every generation. The three days become a privilege to be cherished—an opportunity to raise a glass with old friends and new faces alike, to swap stories that mingle with the scent of wine and rain-warmed pavement, and to laugh together as a community. The humor helps bridge past excesses with present mindfulness, celebrating memory while inviting fresh participation from the crowd.
Conclusion: Nostalgia with the Taste of Wine
Behind the confetti and the recollections of indulgence, Mukuna’s portrait remains unmistakable: aging doesn’t erase celebration; it refines it. The Neuchâtel Vendanges, as seen through his eyes, endures as a festival that links yesterday to today, where laughter, song, and shared meals sustain friendships. And if nostalgia comes with the taste of wine, then its sweetness is a reminder to savor the moment—and to keep saying, with a wink, that the age of reason has its own kind of joy.
