Remember, Remember...

...the fifth of November.

But this year make sure you call it Guy Fawkes' Night. That title has been reclaimed, because it's the 400th Anniversary of the attempt he and a bunch of Catholics made to murder the king and blow up parliament. What we have been celebrating all these years with a bit of bonfire toffee and some sparklers has suddenly become a shed load of serious, with people on News 24 talking of "regime change" and "terrorist assassination plots" as if it were Iraq.

There's actually a "stop the terrorist atrocity" game on the BBC Website.

Anyway that doesn't dwell in your mind if you go to Mayflower Park in Southampton for Bonfire Night. The first issue being that there is no Bonfire, so scrub that and let's call it Firework Night instead.

Pre-display there's a fair you can have a go on. I failed to win a cuddly bulldog from one of those grabber machines. Surprisingly, the dog seemed slightly too heavy or the grabber jaws were just not tight enough. I wonder if that always happens?

I also failed to have a go on Froggit, probably the least thrill-seeking of all the rides. Paul and Dominic had a go though..



(Well, you try getting a decent photo. I deleted twelve others of people I didn't know because I had counted wrongly...)

Nikki and I decided to be officially "soft"...



It's not that I mind fast moving boisterous rides, but I tend to avoid seeking the additional thrill of the ride having being bolted together off the back of a lorry that morning by whatever the politically correct term for gypsies is this month.

(There is a spelling mistake above, as is, of course, mandatory on fairground notices and on pub menus.)

Still more excitement before we get to the fireworks. Annoying local radio Wave 105 was there too with annoying local radio DJ, whose name escapes me. He was broadcasting from a very small trailer in which there was hardly room to swing a cat, never mind room for the very awful ABBA tribute band he had brought with him to do symmetrical dance routines. But they tried, bless them...

At least it wasn't The Cheeky Girls, like it was last year.

Finally to the fireworks. Regular readers of this blog - yes there are some - will be aware that my camera is really bad at taking photos at night time where I have to use settings other than the completely automatic ones. But here goes...



Oooooooh!!! (A bit blurry...)



Aaaaaahhhh! (A bit colourless...)



Hmmmmmm... (Not really all on the picture...)



Ouch! (A bit overexposed...)

And then they were all over. It was universally agreed that it wasn't as good as last year, not because of the absence of The Cheeky Girls, but mainly because the fireworks were a bit rubbish. Even the tea was weak and not very hot. But the Russell's overpriced bacon butty was good! I include the photo below to celebrate that one piece of good news, and also to mention the man who stood in front of us for the whole display, talking into his mobile phone telling his friends he was standing near Russell's Burger Grill. He missed most of the fireworks looking for them.



They never did turn up...