Traverser un volcan à la nage

Catelia, a manager at the massive Pépin-les-Flots highway rest stop in the south of France, returns from vacation to her beloved kingdom of overconsumption and fossil fuels, where the banner of the triangle sandwich flies. She would like to be the dominant head of this immense eight-headed cephalopod, whose arms extend and retract depending on the crowd. A heterotopia with a well-oiled vertical hierarchy. But behind the tentacles, human figures emerge: workers who move through the space, each with their own history and age, their generational conflicts, their ecological and political convictions, their social obligations, and their definition of work.

Soon, fueled by the drought and the strong wind, a growing fire eventually reaches the highway and disrupts traffic. The lanes are blocked, and drivers are rerouted to the Pépin rest area, which must then cope with a new influx of people, reassess its profits, and manage the anxieties and existential questions raised by the disaster. Can we in good conscience fill up our tanks, eat ice cream, and dance when everything is burning right at our doorstep? And what will remain of our newfound awareness after the rain of ash?