Bensheim 2007 Blog Part 4

An afternoon (and evening) of debauchery

Following an unfeasibly long break in blogging enforced by the taking of University exams, Dave picks up his Bensheim tale mid Sunday after noon, as the dust settles on the streets of Bensheim following the big parade.

Well, I know I am one of the younger members of the team,but I have to hand it to the senior members, I had to go back to Bacchus whilst the rest of the guys carried on the party in town, even managing a couple of spots of dances whilst I sucked the wallpaper off my room's walls for an hour or two.

The chaps settled al fresco at a bar in the middle of town, not far from the end of the procession, and set in for the duration. Dennis was taking special care following the previous day's scare by drinking halves only, and squeezing some lard off his half meter sausage.

When I stirred my self from my hotel reverie, I grabbed my melodeon and headed off to the bar to refresh myself with beer and music, both of which were available in abundance, though not going for the wine got you quite a stair from one or two of the festival's barkeeps.

When I caught up with everyone, me Pete and Peter struck up a few tunes, that attracted the attention of a local reenactment dance group, whom we had met on our previous visit, and after a while, a kind of magical fusion took place of the two traditions. One or two of our tunes they seemed to recognise, and they played along, and then they rather excitedly performed their pie de resistance, a Morris dance to a tune they had learned specially. Sadly, were were unable to recognise either, but they were both executed in an exemplary fashion that would have flattered us! By way of a response, and attempting to keep the good British end up, in terms of mixing in the interlectual dance fraternity, we played Speed the Plough for a mixed set of Woodies, WAGs and Historischer Tanzkreis Bensheim e.V. personnell. You can see the results of that particular coming together below. The gathering went on for some time and included a Woodside tune or jig or two, and displays by the German side that drew much attention from passers by.

Historischer Tanzkreis Bensheim, or the Historical Dance-Circle of Benshiem, are dedicated to the preservation of renaisance, middle ages and Barocque dance, and you can visit their German language website here.

As this bout of accellerated merriment gave way to just plain, common or garden festival merriment, a few of us popped off to get something to eat, and frankly we never new what we would be missing by going for the sedate beer and a burger option. When we got back, the hardcore element of the team had basically taken over the little niche of Bensheim and made it into a minor principality of Watford. A number of the WAGs and their associated Morris men were strutting funkily to the hypnotic rythmns of a local band playing licks from the golden age of Rock. There was some serious rock chickery going on, with the woodside men giving way to the superior dance technique of their better halves, on this occasion, though their contribution still had a major role in the spectacle.

The drink continued to flow, and the party continued to rock, until time was called on the band that was the engine for the evening's festivities. Starved of the driving beat that breathed life into weary legs, the party started to disband, but for a brief moment or two, the revery was reignited when I was forced, by no one in particular, to play a few tunes on me box, and Pete F. was forced to dance a strange jumping up and down type afair with one of the local party goers.

But things were definitely settling down, and eventually it was just myself and Pete who were left hanging around in bars. As we started back to the hotel at around 12.30, we noticed a little side bar, the door of which was still open, and we decided to end the evening with a short. On entering the bar, we had an oportunity to test our flege German on the locals, but they insited trying out their English, and in the end we decided to split the differnce and speak whatever we liked, and just nod when the others said something. We were able to communicate well enough to express our desire to drink grosse schnappes, to which a particularly enthusiastic local chap, veteran of a number of trips to Amersham, insisted on getting us a couple of large Jack Daniels. And referring to them as large seems now, as it did then, to appear a little conservative. Of course it would have been wrong to leave the bar without returning the favour that our new found friend, to whom we would be entirely dedicated from that day on, had done us, and again, there was no room for modesty in describing the size of the measures, just as there no room for anything more than a finger of air in the top of the glass.

Parting from the bar, we all promised to visit each other every year and send Christmas cards for the rest of our lives, if only we had taken their adresses, or even asked what their names were. Anyway, after much foot shuffling and talk of how great Germany was, and how much we loved Bensheim, we made it back to the hotel.

I would usually say something here about reflecting on the day and how good it was, but at the time, I couldn't actually remember anything about it. So I'll just say that I must have gone to bed, because that's where I found myself when I woke up the next morning.

Bensheim 2007 Blog Part 1
Bensheim 2007 Blog Part 2
Bensheim 2007 Blog Part 3
Bensheim 2007 Blog Part 4
Bensheim 2007 Blog Part 5

Bensheim 2007 Homepage