When we decided to bring Monegros Desert Festival back after years of silence, we knew we couldn’t just “do another edition”. Our family had already turned a finca into a desert rave, then into a full‑scale festival, and then had to hit pause for almost a decade; if we were coming back, it had to feel like the beginning of Monegros again: doing in real life the things most people only dare to imagine.
In one of those production meetings where ideas spin out of control, someone said it: “What if we put a boat? What if we put a plane in the desert?”. Everyone laughed, then the room went quiet. We looked at each other and realised our brains were already solving it. A plane made sense: a symbol of travel, of people crossing the world to meet in the middle of nowhere, of being between places, exactly what a desert rave feels like. That was the moment the Airbus Stage was born, not as a marketing stunt, but as a test of how far we were willing to go for one unforgettable experience.
The goal was simple and brutal, create a dance floor people would talk about months before they arrived, fight to get into during the festival, and keep posting about long after they got home. A secret club inside a commercial jet in the middle of the desert felt like the perfect big‑bang for the comeback.
