To the Rose and Crown on Friday evening for what seemed like an event that half of Wivenhoe had turned out to witness. I like to think that the merry making of the Colchester Morris Men was the reason for the rallying of the troops; I suspect Friday night riverside refreshment played a part.
After freezing their jingly jangly bells off outside the Black Buoy on Boxing Day, the good folk of the Colchester Morris Men returned to these parts under slightly more favourable conditions.
It takes some balls (and big sticks) to get all handkerchief-ed up on a Friday night, and then skip around the Quay to the sound of some fiddly diddly folk music. When I tired it all alone last week, I came close to ending up in a padded cell for the evening.
But there’s safety in numbers - both for Morris Men and boozers alike. Shortly after 8pm, the first bellows from the accordion were puffed out, and the spectacle of mass middle-aged men skipping was upon us.
An appreciative audience clapped, took photos and then went back to boozing - just another Friday night in Wivenhoe then.
There was no giant wooden dog doing the rounds this time, but instead a large wooden spoon was passed around the tables of the Rose and Crown. I wasn’t sure if I was supposed to offer up some loose change, or use the utensil as some medieval phallic totem-pulling device.
The good men of the Colchester red ‘n green continued with their skipping, just about holding off the elements with their estuary non-rain dance. Five pints later and it was time for me to head back to base with a hop, skip and a jump. No bells, no big sticks - only inside my trousers anyway.
To the Black Buoy on Boxing Day lunchtime for a bonkers, but equally brilliant event that can best be described as only in Wivenhoe…
Yep - the traditional Boxing Day appearance of the fine men from the Colchester Morris Dancing troupe were hitting their sticks and shaking their handkerchiefs. It takes a certain amount of Dutch courage to place bells on the end of your boots. No surprise that most of that courage was booze related.
This was an ace afternoon with a splendid crowd of hungover Wivenhoe locals turning out to chase the hair of the dog. Adults looked slightly uneasy as the call came for any volunteers; kids were bemused, and even Colchester MP Bob Russell took some Christmas time out from attacking the coalition to support the Morris Men of his constituency.
Cripes.
I’m not quite sure of the deeper significance of Morris dancing, although I was reliably informed that there is an undercurrent of male fertility with all that shaking of your big stick in the air. I covered up the eyes of the fragrant @AnnaJCowen when a giant dog came sniffing around.
The Colchester Morris Men wrapped up on Black Buoy Hill shortly after 1pm, and then continued the recruitment drive with the lure of mulled wine.
“We’re looking for some young blood,” I was told. “Weekly Friday night rehearsals - we’re a very social lot.”
This I wasn’t disputing, but I fear that the dancing may clash with my *ahem* bell ringing ambitions.
Blimey.
Many thanks to the Colchester Morris Men, as well as the Black Buoy for what was a brisk day of business. We returned to the boozer later in the evening, to find some hardened Boxing Day revellers still toasting the season.
Quite a song and dance.
*facebook viewers – video embedded on m’blog over here…*
Plus: more on the Boxing Day Morris Men of Wivenhoe over here.
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