The Prince

My good friend came to visit me today from far, far away (well, the east of the Netherlands), and we had a girly shop together.

After that we walked to the station. At 14.11, a train arrived containing the statue of the Kruikezeiker, Prince Carnaval and his cortege (consisting of 11 counsellors, several are pictured).

After a short introduction, much noise, brass bands, and people doing the conga, the cortege proceeds to the centre of town, where the Prince officially opens Carnaval.

Tilburg has an industrial past, consisting of wool and textile factories. Urine was used to treat the fabric, and the factory workers would literally bring their own jugs full of piss to their workplace in the morning.
This is how the Kruikezeiker (piss pot/Tilburger) gets his name (women are referred to as Kruikinnen), and during Carnaval, Tilburg turns into Kruikenstad.

I'm proud of the fact that of all the gentile towns or cities I could have chosen to live in, I chose one that has its origins in workers bringing their pots of piss in to work. We're a match made in heaven.

Here he is, being held proudly aloft.
Here he is again, but you'll have to look harder this time.

Here are a few more.

To be continued tomorrow....