Carnival and Carnage

So, it came, it tantalized and then it left. Another carnival over, another one to add to the list (23). It was beautiful. No, I lie, it was pretty average. But the company, the hot mulled wine and the warmth of the mood where enough to keep me smiling all night. Saturday turned out to be a long day, with me and Luke sleeping in and then me feeling guilty for sleeping in. So I got on with some work.

I had to submit my The Writer’s Apprentice briefs first, don’t know quite how I’ll fair with it. I’ve never written a Haiku before, so writing one about my favourite brand was a bit of a struggle. This was the end result:

Green, red, yellow, blue
Henry’s smile light’s up the room
The Hoover with heart

What do you think, because I have no idea, if this is any good?
Anyway, so I finished my chores and then Luke and me walked into Bridgwater via the canal, which I have never done before. I got very excited at seeing the town from this perspective. We got to the centre of town, but we were under the hub-bub. It was quiet and still on the canal path, we hardly passed another person.

The most intriguing part of the passage was when the canal seemed to narrow between two tall buildings. There was a series of ancient oak beams stretching above our heads, holding the distance between the walls. Each and every one of them had a sentence or a few seemingly unrelated words carved into them. Not graffiti, proper good old-fashioned carvings. I should of written them down, to see if I could work it out, but of course, being a (useless) writer, I didn’t have one with me. I desperately want to go back there to collect those words; I may even query it with the local council to find out when they were put there and why. It all seemed mysterious, and I have the feeling there’s a good story behind it.

Bridgwater is steeped in history, it’s just a shame the residents of the town don’t appreciate it. But I do thank Luke for directing me to this part of the canal, that he knows so well from his childhood and yet it’s somewhere completely alien to me.

So after this adventure, we then venture back into North Petherton, via the main road. We’d been walking for about two hours at this point, and desperately needed some ‘medicinal’ refreshment. A quick pit stop revived us with some cider and this made our journey pass much more amicably. My mum owns a shop on the high street and we arrived before anyone else, so stood and drank more cider and watched as the street began to fill with carnival goers.

Mum arrived and we congregated upstairs with cheese and mulled wine. My sister and a stream of beloved friends began to arrive and many hugs were distributed. There was a good crowd, and everyone was getting into the hype. I joined a group of friends outside as soon as we heard the first carts approaching. They weren’t good. Bloody tableau's! Some were quite skilled in their craftsmanship, but where was the flashing lights, the dance music, the comedy drag-hags? I needn’t have worried; the cheesy ones came and went, most unforgettable. The most impressive act was a group of kids aged from four to eighteen. They were all in finest Moulin Rouge get-up and they had a choreographed routine that would have put most of the contestants of Strictly Come Dancing to shame.

I suppose they kept the best ones till last, but there wasn’t many outstanding floats this year. Ghost Ship had giant skeletons hanging from the carcass of a ship, everything was gleaming white, and the light bulbs were practically on fire. Not only were there moving parts left, right and centre, the whole ship was swaying from side to side. Good music too, music we could all dance to. (There were no street side incidents this year; everyone was on their best behaviour.) The end of the carnival did not signal the end of our fun though.

My tipsy friends sabotaged my mum’s collection of feathers, (the ones she uses for stuffing cushions), and took handfuls out on the street to throw over everyone. The policeman close by did not look too impressed, but didn’t intervene. We were covered, but as we embraced in a huge group hug, I think the spirit of Rio was living in us!

So we then halled ass to Iris and Xynth’s house, young, old, and the legless. Sat round a tremendous fire and watched fireworks sprout off in every direction. More cider was consumed and a rather delicious selection of soups offered to us. WE stayed till three and were the last to leave. Staggering home, we enjoyed the full moon and crisp air.