Yes, it’s that time of year...Pride or a carnival, Pride or a carnival...well this year, a Carnival won out - Bakewell Carnival to be precise. Maisie and I had been to Bakewell earlier in the week, heard the fair music, seen the very end of the raft race and that was it - we were hooked into the carnival festivities and the all the candy floss of the fair, like a duck!
We squash into the little car (easier to park) pick up a friend of Maisie’s and head off in the sweltering heat to find the fun. First we have to find a car park. Dodging shopping trolleys full of novelty items and oompaloompas wandering around in the streets we head for the large, just out of town car park in Bakewell. Huzzah for the little car, we squeeze quite nicely in-between a car and a camper van. Nice. However, in that Great British tradition, the occupants of the camper van are picnicking inside the van - in the car park. They lean out of the window and say "don't park there, how on earth are we going to get out?" We thought they could maybe get out by simply driving straight forward and driving through the bloody great camper-van-sized gap. Not wanting to cause an argument, we found a lovely spot next to the river.
Tempting though it was to stay in the car and take refreshments there, we headed out to seek entertainment in carnival and fair form.
We were not disappointed. Child and friend head straight for the candy floss, I head straight for the weapons and attempt to win Leanne a ridiculous stuffed Unicorn. The girls were successful, I was not. All I won was a piece of card with two holes in - only one through the star. Leanne was polite in accepting what I’d ‘won’ and managed to hide her disappointment well. On to the carnival.
It was soooo hot, we wandered through the carnival entrants, we were impressed by the variety of vehicles and avoided the bouncy castles, rodeo bull experience and random toilet queue. When we got to the classic cars we knew we were at the end of the display. I’m sure Leanne liked my suggestion of buying a classic car which would mean we would always get a good parking space at such events. Next year, I may just roll up in my Citroen C2, pop the bonnet and stick a random number and rosette on the front - sorted.
People had been lining the streets for hours to get a good view of the procession. We arrived just at the allocated start time. The Police closed the road as we walked up, so we just wandered along the road, and stood right next to the start, in the road, choice.
We were amazed and delighted by the carnival procession. Men with cans of beer dressed as Mary Poppins, girls (Carnival queens) in frilly dresses stuffed into the back of cars waving (what is that all about?) Men dressed as women, women dressed as gnomes, yep just like Pride.
Leanne and I wandered about hand in hand without a care that we might be stared at strangely or challenged. There was so much weird stuff going on around that no one noticed or minded. So my advise to all, if you are the only gay in the village, just go to the carnival to recreate the Pride experience. There maybe fewer moustaches (and they're mainly on the girls) but that’s all.
Back to the car via a little bit of thrill seeking and a proud sunny day was had. Happy Carnival/Pride one and all.