For lack of a better title, it’s over now: phony Pottermania has bitten the dust — although it was a quite enthusiastic final showing. There was a good deal of hats present and some decent costumes. The line was incredibly long, it occupied most of Milsom St, but even still the drunks outnumbered the witches.
Above: Drunks attack a Hippogriff
Above: Beat the line and buy the book at full price. There’s a photo of JK Rowling on the back and it says “Harry Potter and the Deathly Hallows” on the front but the cover art is strangely different.
Below, Hokusai’s “Sumidagawa Sekiya no sato”
I could have fudged my photo a bit to make it match. I had been sitting on it for a while, building up a stockpile of horse photos. I could have covered up the blue van, perhaps added some shadow…. but I’m running out of time.
So who was there?
It’s hard for me to break down and categorize the individuals at the Hedge, due in large part to the vast diversity present. I’ll rely on my old undergraduate dissertation crutch and conform the myriad of groups into three relatively irrelevant entities: the devout (authentic Druids, New Age-inspired magicians, and the heavily intoxicated, most reverend at these events), the conventionally pious (LARPers, Aging Hippies), and the worldly (flat-out tourists). Since I’ve been out of the liberal arts loop for over a year, my classifications are not up to snuff. For the official, if now outdated, list of terms, check out the various joke guides that all play on the pseudo-scientific classification of subgroups   , but I’m just breaking down the groups to decide the order to post my photos.
First, a brief word that the “stewards” of Stonehenge, the security detail there that searched bags at the entrance and confiscated any glass bottles really controlled events brilliantly. The only serious incidents that occurred resulted from people accidentally falling from stones and suffering mild concussions. They were all quickly attended to. From my vantage point toward sunrise, I saw the security detail go into overtime and escort numerous people out for various infractions, including perching on higher stones….
Unfortunately, there were many people dressed like stewards who were not in fact stewards or had anything to do with security.
There didn’t appear to be any serious theft at the site, personal property was reasonably secure and there were few, if any, altercations between individuals.
Overheard Conversation from this Idio:
“This is a once in a thousand years event! (Even though it’s every year…)”
-Druids [see previous post]
-Possible Druids/ New Agers/ Grieving Family Members Illegally Disposing of Human Remains. Not sure what type of ashes these women were scattering over the crowd, but they got them on hundreds of people, and then proceeded to sprinkle them on the rocks too.
-Musicians in the Sacrificial Mosh Pit
-Industrious People on our former rock who raised a crystal rod to try to catch the sunbeams…sadly, there was no sun.
-the Disabled, this might be a bit un-PC to single them out, but I was shocked and impressed at the number of people there in wheelchairs and with walkers at the site. These people were camping out like the rest of us and I saw them touching the stones, making me wonder if they made this pilgrimage expecting something. That’s intense, especially because I often mistaked their walking canes and gray hair for cheesy wizard costumes.
-Long Distance Tourists/ and the extreme version: long distance tourist families.
-Witches burning basil/other herbs and shoving it into natural holes in the stones. Is it legal? This is a Grade I Ancient Monument – defacing it is a criminal offense.
Overheard Conversation from this Idio:
“So what do you think? Yeah, I guess it’s cool, kinda like a rave without electric.”
-Those surrounding the musicians in the Mosh Pit who cheered and snapped their fingers like they were at a lame poetry reading. I don’t know what they should have been doing, I was nearby and trying to sleep…
-Photographers going to the extra length standing on others shoulders, climbing the large post sarcens for the excellent picture while risking expulsion, bringing your own tripod… (I saw others who climbed great heights just to drink…maybe that’s in devout category, but it’s also stupid, should have brought a camera up there…)
-Artists of various sorts, their paintings and other work might not be spectacular but they can claim they did it from life and up close.
-Families: it takes guts to allow your kids to jump around on crowded slippery wet rocks over five feet high, while among the craziest members of society.
-Roving bands of costumed musicians, or simply the processional possessed.
-Political Message Mongerers, a***oles who brought banners to unfurl in the center of the Hedge at sunrise….they didn’t make it to the core, I think they were driven out in fact. “Save [Something]…” No idea what there message was since it was too packed.
-Stay still, you have Merlin on your neck! The beard here was real. It’s debatable if full beards and pointy hats should be added to the devout, I doubt that he grew it to fit in with this crowd…
Overheard Conversation from this Idio:
“Could all of you just bend your necks to the right, I NEED this photo…”
-Casual photographers, I can’t stand seeing so many people taking pictures with their cell phones. This ticks me off. They’ll claim they don’t have the cash to get a real camera, but then they’ll spend the rest of the day calling international talking about trivial things. These are people who need to have cell phones with them at all time, they need to be in touch at all time. Where’s the fun in camping out at the Henge and not being isolated from modern society. The photos is not going to come out, either, so why do they try?
-Posers, tourists who posed near the costumed folks…like this guy next to a warlock with a dead ferret on a stick.
-Tourists more interested in getting a group photo up close than with anything substantial in the background. A photo isn’t a photo unless it has a good structure somewhere in it. Why don’t these people wrestle back in their suburban homes?
-There’s nothing better than having reserved great spots and then contently sleeping through sunrise while occupying triple the ground area needed. It was so packed with people trying to get this close, that no one woke any of the multiple sleeping couples up out of spite for the space they continued to take. Who suffered there?
-People who quit the wait around the stones for the allure of the charcoal fire (no questions on how I have a photo of said fire.)
Our position throughout the night looking east, high up in the inner circle on one of the fallen slabs. This was near the center of the sacrificial mosh pit, where there was a nightlong drum banging concert. Maybe it was music, maybe. It was cheered and had many replacement musicians. The final twilight shot includes the ominous cumulus cloud that here forms a lintel but soon joined with other clouds to block the sun.
Sunset: 9:26 pm
Sunrise: 4:58 am
With that said, I will state that my group was running late…. The bus dropped us off after nine and a good mile or so away from the Henge, nevertheless, we could see the pink-glowing stones. Having now seen the Henge on several occasions and in different lights, I’ll tell you it is like the Taj Mahal, which continuously changes color during the day. However, this being England, the stones are mostly gray due to the overcast climate. Sure enough, before we could get a good shot of the pink stones from afar, a cloud moved in and blocked the sun. This became a theme of the experience: relatively cloudless skies skewered during the final moments by a streak of clouds. Why the ancients ever decided to build the monument dependant on sun-caused shadows in England beats me, but they did – and I came.
While walking with thousands of others through the fields to get to the Henge, I began to familiarize myself with those in attendance. There was a good number of students, many parents with children, several elderly and disabled individuals, many adult tourists/hikers, an overwhelming number of twenty/thirty something New Agers, with the rest of the large cast made up of adolescents with Lord of the Ring or Dungeon and Dragon inspired consumes. Also, I met several tourists from quite a far ways away in the US and Canada who came with large families for this event.
Were there any Druids without these pop-culture inspired robes, frills, and walking sticks? Hardly. Somewhere in that mix were the Emos, Goths, Hipsters, and Punks. It’s fair to say that every single person in England who had a shaved head or mohawk was at this event. And one in every two people in attendance had dreadlocks. This will be better detailed in tomorrow’s post on the people there.
Because all of these subgroups were all English, (I assume), they were all quite polite – even the excessively moody ones. One robe-wearing girl (or young woman) with gnarly walking stick, who appeared to be quite old from behind stammered out a thank you when I held a sheepgate open for her. Those words looked like they were killing her. She was supposed to be an elf, or witch, and supposed to be deeply lost in thought – but she yielded to the civilized culture. Very odd.
Early on, the Druids were kind of lame [Lame, Better, Nice]. I saw one solemn adolescent Druid in a brown Franciscan robe with cord being escorted around by his decidedly middle-aged, ordinary, and slightly embarrassed parents. I explained that many of what might be considered Druids at the event owed more to D&D or LotR, and others were more like aging hippies, but I don’t know. The ones that were there had banded together to chant and play on small drums or recorders, truly the devil’s instrument. One group, reduced to hyping modern tourist gimmicks, tried to get folks to vote for Stonehenge as one of the Seven Wonders of the World. Only later did I see Druids throwing (hopefully non-human ashes into the crowd) and sprinkling them at the base of each stone. That seemed cool (largely because I avoided being hit with the suspect ashes.)
There’s too many photos to post here, so I won’t try even uploading that many. None were great.
The center of the Henge had one or two bongo/drum players at all times. There was sometimes a recorder or horn there. These were not Druid musicians, who were forced outside of the Henge with their screeching animal horns. Whenever a musician handed over the bongos to another, there was clapping but no audible change in music. I stayed in the center perched high on a slab for most of the night; the night was clear and the stars were incredible from inside the Henge…and the outside of the Henge glowed blue from floodlights set up by the authorities for that night.
There were bands of Druids roaming outside with horns and other small drums, but the funniest other musician was a lone bagpiper outside the Henge for a long time. Not one person was listening to him, it was extremely sad and he eventually quit.
At twilight, it began to rain lightly and then quit, just God’s way of washing Druid-hippies. I usually hate umbrellas but here they looked interesting in profile and in shadow. It had been clear, if quite cold, all through the night … but as sunrise neared clouds suddenly moved in. It was like a race between the sun and the clouds. Everyone knew when the sun would rise over the hill and they could figure that the overhead clouds’ speed meant that there was no hope in seeing the sun unobstructed. Some left, but others continued to hope since they were only minor clouds….nothing happened. More clouds came and what had been a clear day turned into one that was completely overcast. Thank you England. Twenty minutes after sunrise a very small hole in the clouds cleared that allowed the sun to be seen, if not shine through. It disappeared before I had zoomed in on my third picture.
If I can manage it, I’ll post some videos….and more photos tomorrow.
I don’t know the name of these instruments. Oh! If only someone out there could name them…but who?
‘We Don’t Say Shut Up:’ “I don’t want to get hit by a car! I don’t want to listen to this! Let me go! Let me go! Mommy said you have to let me go!”
Mayoral Procession Part 3 of 3: From the Guildhall, Around the Abbey, Into the Abbey
Bath Abbey welcomes The Right Worshipful The Mayor of Bath, Councillor Mrs Sharon Ball — the city’s 780th mayor!
I was going to title this “Take a Picture, I’ll Last Longer” and bring attention to the other digital camera screen in the lower left hand corner but I thought again about bringing attention to that off center screen. This scene is special for me since I’ve never seen these wonderful sixteenth-century doors opened (or looked directly into this fine Perpendicular Gothic structure from the outside) — but note that I am in the center and therefore I got the better picture when compared to the camera screen in the lower left hand (right?). What does that say about me — I live here and I took the prize spot away from a passing tourist (I presume the people near me were tourists since they seemed to only speak Japanese). I didn’t stay in the spot after I had taken this shot, so at least I wasn’t overly greedy….still maybe I should have just cropped or photoshopped the camera screen out. In the end, I kept it in because it fascinates me! I can see someone else’s picture…maybe even before they saw it! Considering the focus of this photo was the traditional mayoral procession from the historic Guildhall into the Abbey, and in historic costumes no less, the camera screen adds an almost anachronistically presence to this composition! It surprises even me and I’m not old. Honest.
I really love the costumes and the characters in them. I’m sure they’re all prestigious city councilors but something about wigs, stockings, and funny hats really brings out a caricature in a person — especially if they’re English. What I like about the above photo is the total disregard of the two girls in the rear, sitting against the abbey facade and painting a “Pirates of the Caribbean” ad on the pavement. You’ll see them better tomorrow.
What’s red, black and gold,
In the middle of the road,
and about to be hit by a bus?
BATH CITY MAYOR!
Bath has a new mayor now, our 780th!: The Right Worshipful The Mayor of Bath, Councillor Mrs Sharon Ball! And the theme for this year has been decreed as “Caring.” As usual, brace yourselves for the ruthless change.