Those of you who are abreast of my antics will be wondering how we fared last weekend at Whitby Goth festival, and I certainly have some exploits to share with you, not to mention as the title suggests an incident of blood and bone.
For me Whitby Goth Weekend started at 3am Friday morning. This was the time we dragged ourselves out of bed, bundled ourselves into the car and started out journey to Whitby. The drive was pleasant enough and the moment we spotted the Abbey on the cliff top over the moors we knew we were ready for a weekend of fun. We got to the leisure centre in plenty of time, set ourselves up with ease and did the rounds catching up with all our friends from previous years.
This was the last moment of calm and tranquility. The weekend quickly picked up pace and soon resembled the carnival we have come to love and look forward to every year; great music, loads of dancing, burlesque and pageantry; eye liner, glitter, hairspray and corsets; storm troopers, Frankenstein and a gaggle of skeletons; drinking and merry making, Captain Cooks' cannon balls (they're the greatest), shopping shopping and more shopping; cobbled streets, thunderstorms and shooting elk. What more could you ask for from a festival?
There were two major differences though this time; the first was my in-laws (as mentioned in a previous blog) who really threw themselves into the whole affair. They looked fantastic and were constantly pestered on the streets to have their photographs taken. I'm sure they were in their element and loved every minute.........in fact i know very well that they have secured their place for October and are already planning what they will wear.
The other incident of note was me breaking my toe. Yes, it's true. I spent the whole weekend walking round in big solid boots and chunky heels to then manage to break my bones. Although I had had a drink at the time I am not assenting that this is the reason for the episode. No, it was a highly polished floor, a mat with no rubber backing and a stone step that are to blame and no the fact that it was 5 am Sunday morning and the end of a long and raucous evening. It was amusing at the time hearing the cracking sound resonate off the kitchen walls and making sure everyone could see where the skin was broken and how funny my toe looked but not so amusing the following day when I had to hobble round the town looking for some flip flops to spend the rest of the weekend in.
Overall, the weekend was a great success. The Horrors flew off the stall with returning customers and new initiates taking on the terror of the Sock Horror army and a good time was had by all. Our stall and accommodation is booked for October and our countdown calendar has been reset.