Skip to main content

Fun and festivals

The area around DFW is never short of a few festivals, it seems, and we made it along to a couple more this weekend. We had originally hoped to go canoeing but there was a distinct chance of thunderstorms. These never materialised, though Saturday evening was rather cool with a bit of rain, which wasn't ideal for listening to music on an outdoor stage; conversely, Sunday was very warm and muggy, which didn't look fun for all the people dressed in full Renaissance costume!

So, first up was Taste Addison. Addison is a well-to-do area north of Dallas, and this festival was a chance for the local restaurants to have a stand and sell snack-size portions of their wares for around $5. I tried fish & chips (not quite up there with the British seaside version, but not bad), chilli and gumbo (much more American) and spring rolls (double size portion because it was almost the end of the festival). For dessert there was a very delicious honey flan with fruit. This is the Mexican version of flan - not a pie-type affair but a kind of baked custard, something like creme caramel.

Music was provided by Bowling for Soup and Foreigner.


Bowling for Soup: local band, fun music, crazy way-out-there banter between songs - and where did they get that name from, anyway???


Foreigner: rock band which I'd seen once before in conjunction with Bryan Adams; I liked them a lot better this time, though whether they actually were better or it's just that my ears have got attuned to rock music since living with Graham, I don't know! They're better known for their more mellow stuff than the rockier songs ("I wanna know what love i-i-i-i-i-s....").

On Sunday Graham and I, and a couple of friends, Dave and Amie, headed down to Waxahachie (great name) for the Scarborough Fair Renaissance Festival. I was somewhat unprepared for the sheer scale of the thing - 38 acres of mediaeval-style buildings, wrecked galleons, a castle, stages and jousting area. And more people in costume than you would ever believe possible.


We were intrigued by the concept of turtle racing, but it turned out to be much less exciting than it sounded, with a white-haired guy doing a lot of patter about the World Turtle Racing Federation and such like and only about two minutes of actual turtle action. Three of the turtles just sat there and the littlest one made a run for the edge of the stage and was pronounced winner. Thrilling.

The falconry exhibit was a lot better. We admired a couple of owls and a bald eagle, and saw some nifty flying by a hawk chasing the lure. The display was put on by a charity which cares for injured birds of prey, so they provided a lot of information about bird conservation as well, and a chance to chat afterwards.


The bald eagle, proud symbol of America.

Jousting was a grand production, attended by King Henry VIII himself (and one of his queens). The baddie was suitably rude, and died in a very dramatic fashion, and the winner, fighting for Sir William of Whitehall, retired to loud huzzahs from the crowd.



There were shops selling all manner of things, from bows and arrows and chain mail to fantasy art and wooden goblets. Orange and strawberry sorbet mounded onto half an orange provided a cool relief in the heat, but Graham was laughing at my orange lips for ages afterwards.



We rather liked the hanging chairs and hammocks. This is Dave and Amie looking relaxed:


and I could get used to this life!

I wonder why he seemed so reluctant to buy me one...

Comments

John Evens said…
It always rains at foreigner concerts. I think we've seen them twice at Innsbrook and got completely soaked both times. I can't remember if there was a huge thunderstorm on both occasions or just the once, but that band definitely takes the (bad) weather with them. Still, it's always the most fun at their gigs. As for the Renaissance Fair - I'm ashamed of you!! OK, the bald eagle is pretty cool but everything else about those events is shameful (not that I've ever been)!

Popular posts from this blog

Mr White Watson of Bakewell

Once upon a time, back in 1795 or so, lived a man who was always asking questions.  The kind of questions like, "Why is glass transparent?" or "Why do fruit trees grow better in that place than in this place?" or "What does the earth look like underneath the surface?"  This last question was one that he was particularly interested in, and he went so far as to work out what the rock layers looked like where he lived, and draw little pictures of them.  Now he was a marble sculptor by trade (as well as fossil hunter, mineral seller, and a few other things) so he thought it would be even better to make his little pictures in stone.  That way he could represent the layers using the actual rocks they were composed of.  Over the course of his lifetime he made almost 100 of these tablets, as he called them. Then he died.  And no one else was quite as interested in all those rocks and minerals as he was.  His collection was sold off, bit by bit, and the table...

Birmingham: Temples to many things

Birmingham's cathedral is overshadowed by more modern temples: the mirrored swirls of New Street train station; the dotted bulge of the Selfridges store; the lacy blocks of the library; the pillars and pediments of the museum and art gallery. Museum and town hall Next to all these, Birmingham Cathedral, in its square of dusty grass, isolated from the main flow of shopping and travel, seems less like a dominant building and more like a minor chapel. It turns out the unpretentiousness is deliberate. St Philip's Church was built in 1715 when the worshipping population of Birmingham had outgrown the medieval constraints of St Martin in the Bullring . Birmingham remained part of the Diocese of Worcester until 1905, when Charles Gore pushed for the creation of a new diocese and became its first bishop. Seeing the depth of need in the city, he decided to convert St Philip's to a cathedral rather than spend money on a grand new building. Birmingham Cathedral had to be restored afte...

Southwell Minster, Newark-on-Trent, and a pilgrim cellist

You may remember that I recently mentioned people doing weird and wonderful things. Well, I found another one. Last year, Kenneth Wilson visited all 42 English cathedrals. On a bike. With a cello. It was a cargo bike; the whole setup, cello and all, weighed about 50 kg; and he mostly managed a rate of one cathedral per day, with occasional rest days and train journeys where absolutely necessary. That's a lot of cycling. Of course, he wrote a book about it, and when I found out he was on the schedule at Newark Book Festival, I had to go. It also provided the perfect excuse to visit Southwell Minster. Newark-on-Trent feels like it is in the depths of the Nottinghamshire countryside, but it isn't actually hard to get to, I thought as I buzzed along the dual carriageways of the A50, A453, A52 and A46 on a sunny Sunday morning. All along the route, the grass stood bleached and crispy, scorched by the summer heat.  Newark Castle with crispy grass The author event was at the National...