Remember remember, the ... 4th of November?
Ahh yes, 401 years ago today a certain Guy Fawkes was caught trying to blow up Westminster Palace, thereby assassinating King James and a large chunk of Parliament, in what became known as the Gunpowder Plot. We mark the failure of the plot every year by sending up into the night sky large fireworks, and burning an effigy of Mr Fawkes on top of the biggest bonfire we can build. Ironically, Mr Fawkes was not in fact burned at the steak but was sentenced to death by hanging, having had a confession tortured out of him. He didn’t die by strangulation however, but managed to throw himself off the gallows and thereby snapped his own neck - deeming it preferable to slow strangulation and oxygen deprivation. Why the plot? It had something to do with the Catholic / Protestant / Spanish agendas, which even having read, I still don’t entirely understand.
Last year I watched the firework display in Llandudno, which was really good. This year I went to Bangor to meet up with some friends and go watch all manner of sparklies be launched from the pier. Unfortunately we had been mis-informed about the time of the event, and instead of being outside kitted out in woolies and entertaining ourselves making frosty breath clouds and waving sparklers, we had to catch what we could of the spectacle by leaning out of Ben’s bathroom window! Less pretty than anticipated, but fortunately it was still a good night, as it always is when there’s good company. There were also two episodes of BattleStar Galactica to catch up on afterward, and that can never be a bad thing. It would also be remiss of me to fail to mention the not small matter of the tastiest beef, bacon and cheese burger that I’ve ever had the privilege to chew on. Ben, I salute you!