Friends, Romans and Country Mice

We country mice really know how to live. I'm sure I've said that before, therefore it must be true!

Yesterday evening we had our village BBQ. It poured with rain about an hour before it was due to start, but we country mice are made of hard cheese, and the turnout was fantastic (just goes to show that there was not much else going on yesterday evening). Instead of the normal outdoor games, we had indoors games, and everyone of all ages had a great time.

This weekend it has been the First Annual Roman Festival in the nearby town of Alcester. Our friends from Edinburgh are staying, so we dragged them down to the town for the festivities.

It was another well-organised and fun event. There were lots of finds on display at the local museum, Roman cookery, Roman pottery, a Roman camp where you could visit soldiers and their families, "Make up, blood and gore" by the former Head of Wigs (that's a funny name - "Head of Wigs"!!) and Make Up from the RSC, and a march through the town by the Roman soldiers, followed by other Roman gladiators, and then the Alcester Court Leet (officers of the town who dress in ceremonial gowns and attend all sorts of functions throughout the year). It was extremely colourful and well attended. Even some of the shop keepers were dressed in Roman outfits (our friend told the veggie shop man in his toga that he could be one of her five a day, cheeky girl!)

As if this wasn't surreal enough (second time in two days I've been able to use "surreal" in my Blip) this was followed by a march down to the river where the Annual Duck Race then took place amidst much cheering and jollity.

Along with the Scots, we "purchased" four ducks but ours did not win. There were about two thousand ducks racing in total. The funds go towards the town's Christmas lights and decorations. The finishing line was a net across the river where two brave souls stood in waders and collected all the ducks in, returning them to dustbins where they will go quackers for another year.

This photo was taken in the beautiful Malt Mill Lane, which is a narrow little pedestrianised street, where the houses are all timber framed, and the flowers down there are stunning. It is all sheltered housing for the elderly in that area.

You can just make out on the left hand side of the soldiers about 5 rows back there is a man wearing a full face helmet - apart from the helmet, he was wearing very little except for a sort of Roman nappy. I think he was a gladiator.

I bet the Romans didn't realise that when they march, the sound of all those feet pounding in unison on the cobbles sets off the car alarms!