We met up at a bar after a long and semi-pointless dissertation writing workshop (apparently "water, water rights/access, and water boundaries" is not the correct answer to 'what are your interests?'!). In our newly forming tradition, the conversation transitioned from academic bitching to really weird topics, like pooping during child-birth and the results of an 18-year-old's 3-day long bad reaction to Viagra, you know, typical conversation amongst a bunch of 20-somethings over a beer, or my personal favourite ale...ginger ale (and no, I don't drink it because I'm a "ginger")! The purpose of this pitstop was to kill time in between class and the start of the festivities. When we decided we'd had enough of the increasingly disgusting conversation, we made our way to Platt Field Park. Sidenote: as we left, I noticed the two digit number marking our table. Yep, the number '27' makes an appearance once again!
I must say, I was quite surprised by what I saw when we arrived - it was like the Atlantic Winter Fair back home only less the Super Dogs and livestock (well, that part's debatable!)! There were rides and food trucks, and multiple children in strollers amongst the growing group of mostly university-aged participants. Seriously, why would a parent think it was a good idea to bring a small child to an event like this? Despite that, I was actually quite impressed by the range of people who had come out! It was the coldest night I'd felt since I arrived, but that didn't seem to deter anyone!
Our first goal was to find the food truck with the smallest line and consume ALL of the food. There's nothing like the bonding that happens between a crowd of strangers vying for a fried hotdog fresh from the jar, smothered in fried onions! One of the unavailable items at this spot was a 'Canadian steak'...anyone know what that might be? Apparently it's really good, as per the group of boys standing by us.
Next we made our way towards the bonfire, which had just been lit. Of course, we couldn't get anywhere near it, but that didn't stop me from attempting to take a picture of it...
|Yep...that blob of light is actually the massive bonfire in the distance...|
Since we quickly accepted that we weren't going to get any closer to the fire, we decided to find a crazy ride to waste some money on... £5 to be exact! We found some brightly lit, turn thing, for which I do not know it's name (obviously!), and waited in line. Now, just to bring you up to speed, in between the attempt to get to the bonfire and making our way to this point, we had a long debate over whether or not a) the fireworks would soon be starting and b) we'd miss them if we were on a ride. Well, folks, I'm happy to report that just as we found ourselves in the line up for this brightly-lit, turny adventure, the first of many fireworks began. But here's the part of the night that blew my mind...we debated leaving the lineup to go watch them. I figured, by the time we got out of the line and found a place with a good view, they'd be over, and then we'd have to lineup again and start the whole waiting game over. We decided to stay in the line...but the fireworks did not end like they do back home (you know the ones, 3 red, 3 blue, a couple green, maybe a smattering of swirly yellow/gold ones, and then 3 minutes after they began they're over)! No, we went through the line, the entire duration of the 2-minute long ride, and still had time to scope out a spot to watch the last few minutes of the display! All-in-all, it must have been at least 20 minutes of firework-awesomeness. Nova Scotia - you need to step up your game!
After this, we, along with the 47 million* other people in attendance, decided we needed dessert - a crepe to be specific! So, off we went in search of a dessert shop in curry mile. To our surprise, there are a number of them (who knew?!). The girls got Nutella and chocolate soaked crepes, and we escaped the crowds and made our way home.
Well, that's all the crazy adventure for this girl, this week! I decided to forgo the Christmas lights extravaganza thingy, despite the desperate/drunken pleas of one friend, and instead went to bed at the late hour of 8:00 pm. A 12-hour sleep was in order. And that, my friends, is the tale of how one night out (which by the way, I was home by 9:00 pm that night), results in needing two days of recovery!
-the Orange Canadian
PS: To learn more about Guy Fawkes, do a quick Google search. It's an interesting part of British history!
*number may very from the actual number in attendance... don't judge me, I'm not a math major!