Flamin' Eck.

Last night, November the 5th, was bonfire night; the wonderfully British phenomenon steeped in tradition, lovingly remembering our heritage of catholic burning by setting fire to huuuuge mounds of old wooden fences and crates alongside beautifully coloured if not rather noisy fireworks displays. There was no Guy Fawkes effigy, and wierdly enough last year they burnt large wooden swans which was a bit odd, this year it was a simple mound of old wood. It went up like a... well a bonfire... and even though we were standing a good 300 feet away I could feel that familiar eye-burning and toastie warm face glow. The fireworks were... awesome... they lit up the whole sky and the finale was just damn excellent. Everyone thought it was over, then a second later they shot a firey, upwards waterfall of sparkles into the air accompanied by the biggest, loudest fireworks I think I've ever seen. They were massive, and they almost encompassed my whole scope of vision in the sky. I caught the finale on my camera phone, which obviously just did not do it all justics at all but I got it all the same... only trouble is, I have no software to edit it on my computer and due to using my phone the wrong way round, the video is on its side. So, all I have to show for it is the following phone picture.


I just loved it. I stood there in my new jeans, long socks underneath and my firey new rocks, three layers of jumpers, gloves, hat, scarf and of course my big furry, gorrilla jacket... and it felt nice to be apart of a community that were all there for one thing, to watch people exploding things into the sky and to make a big fire; united in being freezing cold but loving it all the same.

Roll on next November.