Gunpowder, Treason and Plot

It was bonfire night in Battle on the 6th November, and we were feeling a bit apathetic about the whole thing. Last year the weather was crappy and we just stood around in the rain waiting for the fireworks for a couple of hours, only to be herded like sheep in and out of the field by a bunch of small-minded wardens who were using the old health and safety excuse for exerting power over the general public (see last year's bonfire report).

Anyway, our old friend Bruce turns up and says he's off to see the fun, it's a beautiful night outside and were we going to go with him. On reflection, it seemed like a good idea, so we decided to be "alternative". Instead of going into the High Street to get pushed around by chavs, we walked down through the woods in the pitch black (walk the dog there every day, so I know it pretty well, even where the roots are to avoid tripping over), up into the Abbey fields, over a fence and onto the Battleground where the bonfire and fireworks were. Ended up very near where they were going to be let off, the fire was already alight and beyond, we could see the throngs on the hill shouting and screaming.

So eventually, the show begins, and these mortars were going off right above our heads and not so high up. Honestly, it was like the Somme. Finally retreated because we were being covered by bits of burnt paper, sticks and the over-powering stench of cordite. Very exciting though, improved by a hipflask of cheap brandy and a stomach full of toad in the hole.

Walked back past the fire once the crowd had dispersed - just the Bonfire Boyes hanging around.

Nice to see Bruce too.