What a stunner of a summer…..
Wet weather? Naah, not when BB are around. While the rest of the country and other morris sides suffered with a large amount of unseasonal inclemency, BB led a charmed existence throughout summer 2002. Even when there was the odd spot of drizzle in the air we found that a quick look the other way accompanied by the words ‘it never rains on BB’ did the trick. That, and running to the nearest shelter.
Our first event in June was the Old Palace Clog weekend of dance (or for us, day) with a walking tour of London’s South Bank. Its always interesting to wander through London looking at some of the old relics which have seen better days. Still, enough about the other teams. It was a splendidly hot day with an unusual atmosphere as there was a lunchtime World Cup match on featuring England, which helped provide a carnival atmosphere, especially as England beat Denmark 3-0. Some of the people started singing ‘3 lions on our shirts…’ while Paul just had 3 rosettes on his due to a nasty mishap with his velcro. Nice day though.
The following Friday saw us out for the second year running on midsummer solstice evening with Holt Morris, renowned for their fine dancing, fine singing, and dodgy headgear. Once again this was at the Red Lion at Avebury – well, to start with anyway, until the landlord decided that what everyone really needed was an early night. After some scratching of heads a revised plan was hastily evolved of proceeding to another nearby pub where the dancing and particularly the singing continued till late. Sadly for the second year in a row Holt whopped us at the singing despite (or because of) Tim’s inspired version of ‘Little bunny fou-fou’. Thanks Tim, we’ll let you know (but the answer’s going to be no).
On Thursday 27 Jun we were at the Wellington Arms in Sandhurst with Mayflower. Sue made a splendid entrance as she arrived in her truck, Yorkie bars liberally festooned all over the dashboard, resplendent in her truckers gear. So much more practical than this white stuff we normally have.
Next up was Mortimer’s weekend, based at Ambergate Social Club in the Peak District, along with Hammersmith for the whole weekend and Wakefield and Persephone for the day on Saturday. Smashing weekend, starting with dancing in Cromford on Saturday morning, followed by a trip on the cable car up to the Heights of Abraham in the afternoon. Jameson, not normally good at heights, overcame his usual ‘wuss’-ness and even managed to open his eyes on the cable car ride. Back down in Matlock Bath we performed one dance each before returning to Ambergate to get ready for the evening’s entertainment, ‘A Night at the Oscars’.
Basically Mortimer’s had planned an Oscar supper followed by a series of spots for the evening, based loosely around musicals, and several foolhardy souls dressed up for the evening in Oscar night type gear, though in some cases this was just the top or bottom bits. Mortimer’s own main offering was an inspired version of ‘Grease’, featuring men and women pouting and posing in a variety of girls dresses. Lovely, especially the boys. Hammersmith then did something featuring their lower bodies encased in a variety of grass skirts made out of newspaper and knocked up in the bar a few minutes earlier, the something being a game consisting of passing spoons on the end of long pieces of string up and down the clothing of people in teams standing in a line, though basically it was an excuse to feel people up while helping the spoons along their way up, down and around people’s nether regions. After that it was time for our spot for which we had been given a choice of themes ‘Mary Poppins’ or ‘The Rocky Horror Picture Show’. Despite the cross dressing and leather opportunities posed by Rocky Horror, due to a lack of practice time beforehand we had opted for yet another version of The Cockney Dance, this time done to the tune of ‘Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious’, as rendered by the fine band of Jane on fiddle, Sue on melodeon, Bob on claves and Malcolm murdering the vocal. Still, not as much as the dancers murdered the dance.
The evening culminated with Mortimer’s presentation of Oscars for various things associated with the weekend, with the recipients receiving Oscar-like trophies made out of severely mutilated Action Man and Barbie dolls which had been covered in not quite dry gold acrylic paint. We were awarded 2 of these slightly doubtful honours, one to the whole team for jumping high, and one for the best VPL of the day, which Lee had the cheek to win (think about it…). Great fun though.
On Sunday morning most people went for a really nice walk up and down a dale or two before assembling at a tricky to find (for some of us anyway) pub at Alderwasley for a relaxed lunchtime dance session for the 3 teams – very pleasant way to end the weekend.
Next – BB’s very own 25th birthday weekend. This momentous event, which caused even our own laid back Paul to show some teensy signs of stress (we have the e-mail evidence, Paul), but which turned out better than any of us dared hope due to a mix of hard work and the way all the other teams also entered into the spirit of things, deserves a special report all of its own :