EARLY
It's a long way from West Cumbria to Hartlepool, and getting up at 5.30 when you normally rise at 8 isn't easy, but it was worth the effort.
Only 3 dance teams were present at Hartlepool Historic Quayside, and in many ways the small number was a good thing as it became a very happy friendly event over the course of the day. Jet Set border morris from Whitby wear sunglasses and black dresses instead of the traditional black facepaint, and look very stylish because of it. Redcar wear bright red military-style jackets with ribbons attached all over.
TALL SHIPS
We danced by the berthed tall ship, the Trincomalee, with a flat blue harbour stretching out under the hazy morning sky. I thought of how it all must have looked in the days when Hartlepool was a bustling seaport with huge traffic jams of 3-masted sailing ships filling those now flat, empty waters.
THE REDCAR MUMMERS' PLAY - CALL FOR THE DOCTOR!
Redcar performed their famous mummers' play, which, like many of its ilk, involves some poor sod having his head removed as the sword dancers revolve around him. He lies dead on the tarmac and the doctor is called, who boasts about his many achievements, before borrowing my bottle of Badoit mineral water (a much cheaper brand will do, actually) which he duly pours into the open mouth of the spluttering victim. The play closes and the dancers move smoothly on into their famous dance, Greatham, which seems to be their main reason for existence. I was pleasantly surprised to find that they actually know several other sword dances as well, though to the untrained eye they all look very similar: the only distinguishing feature is the fact that the tune's different for each one.
LUNCH & A SEARCH FOR CAT FOOD
Lunch was arranged at the local pub - Jackson's Landing - but not being able to eat the gluten-filled food I gobbled a couple of hasty rice cakes and sloped off in search of Pets At Home where I had to buy some catfood before we started the afternoon session. Big shopping centre here, but as confusing as Livingston if you want to get from one set of shops to another. You go round a carpark, find you're in the wrong bit, re-enter the main road only to find it's a dual carriageway so you have to drive all the way to the next roundabout, go right round it, double back on yourself and try the next set of shops to see if the elusive petshop is in there. Of course, it's not, so it's back out onto the dual carriageway again, up to the roundabout, turn around, back down.... finally I got to the right shop, got the catfood, and then had to do the whole thing again to find my way back to Jackson's Landing where Belfagan, Redcar and Jetset were still in the midst of a leisurely lunch. Whew.
THUNDER & LIGHTNING
The rain started before everyone had finished eating. We sat staring out of the windows as it battered down on the harbour cobbles: lightning flashed and thunder rumbled. Someone announced that the coach had arrived. Oh joy. A trip to some godforsaken country pub where we're expected to dance in a car park in a torrential deluge. I got up at 5.30am for this?
DANCING IN THE RAIN
The bus driver was dead nice though. He did his best to park as close to the door as possible at each place we visited. We were conveyed to 3 venues - the Raby Arms at Hart Village, the Wellington Inn at Wolviston, and then to Greatham itself. At one spot we musicians donned our polythene ponchos to protect our instruments while Belfagan danced with umbrellas instead of garlands. Jet Set danced under the trees, but Redcar refused to get their swords out in case they got rusty.
DANCING IN THE PUB
We were invited to dance indoors at Wolviston, causing great surprise to the locals who had turned up for a quiet Saturday lunch, as we lurched between their tables, bells jangling and swords clattering, bumping people with our accordions and saxophone as we passed.
Greatham was supposed to be having a Village Feast, but rain had stopped play. A few oddly-dressed people were spotted still wandering the streets. (No no - there's nothing odd about our dress! We always dress like this - it was everyone else who was odd...) Redcar recently won some sort of award for dancing Greatham, and we feel it's well deserved. Surely after doing it every week for 40 years they should have got the hang of it by now.
JAN'S BIRTHDAY CAKE
As we all piled back on to the bus we agreed that despite the rain we'd had a really very nice time. There was more dancing back on the quayside, where the rain had stopped by this time, and then all of Belfagan made our way across to MacDonald's where Jan's surprise birthday cake was produced, candles were inserted, lit and blown out, to the sound od great cheers.
So the dancers departed - 8 people in Helen's commodious car. Stuart and Margaret went off to spend the evening with their Redcar pals. Bridget departed to catch up with her 5th granddaughter who was born earlier in the week, and I sloped off to TK Maxx and Asda. Heigh Ho.
ALL I WANTED WAS A CUP OF BLACK COFFEE
There was a long drive home ahead of me and I needed caffeine. Asda has a café with a self-service hot drinks machine - you know the sort of thing - you stick a mug under a spout, press a button, and tea, coffee or whatever comes spurting out. You take it to the checkout where you pay for it. It was dead quiet, which was good as I'd not have to queue. I filled a cup with black coffee and headed for the till. Um. Nobody there. I looked around. Nobody anywhere. One completely deserted café. I suppose I could have (a) gone to customer service to demand that someone take my money or (b) left the cup and gone off without it. If I'd tried (a) I'm certain they'd have told me the café was shut and I couldn't have my coffee, which I'd cling on to desperately while they tried to force me to hand it over. And (b) would be just plain silly. So I chose (c) - drank it very quickly and left the shop. I realise I am now admitting publicly that I owe Asda for one cup of coffee, and if they'd like to bill me for it I promise I will pay up.
No comments:
Post a Comment