It's at this time of year that my region has more festivals than you can shake a stick at. Not only is there Easter, but a number of other celebrations that have two things in common: dodgy music concerts and many, many fireworks. I enjoy fireworks as much as the next person. Ones that are way up high in the sky that is. Not near head height. Which, incidentally, the majority of the fireworks here are. It's an incredibly interesting tradition that people in this particular part of the country observe, many even running alongside said head height explosives, one arm majestically in the air, gaining what I can only assume to be respect from their peers. In my opinion it's just downright dangerous. I need a new pair of trousers every time the darn things are set off. Basically, they FRIGHTEN ME. I, unlike those who fully embrace this tradition and get as close to the fireworks as possible, stay well back. That is, until the jostling crowd pushes me further towards my CERTAIN DEATH FROM EXPLODING SPINNING THINGS. And of course, because of this, I earn no respect. And many looks of bewilderment. A positive thing about all of this though, is the way it brings everyone together. Literally. Everyone.
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I took a walk down the main street yesterday and bumped into about 10 people I knew. And in comparison to the natives, I know practically no-one. We don't have anything equivalent to this in my UK hometown, not even close. Here, everyone huddles together, stops to chat, eats ice cream (this will have a post of its own in the future) and manages to find a parking space where you would never have imagined there would be one (...yep, more on this too!) It's all about the festival. I'm still standing way back though. Preferably two streets away.
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