WWe had arranged to meet some of my oldest friends for a nice Saturday out. At the last minute we decided we would copy them and let the train take the strain.... Good decision, as it turned out.
Anyway, we left the station, and what a set of sights there were there... Lots of large orange ladies wearing bits of their net currtains on their heads. Apparently, they're called fascinators! Wear a hat or don't wear a hat but not those! Also, they were all wearing skirts that were at least a size too tight for them. I believe it was ladies day ay York races.
Having left the station, and sauntered into the usually quite quiet city centre, we were confronted with hordes of people, all intent on getting stuck into the town's supply of booze and more than a few sub-machine gun armed polis. We had no idea but it was the annual Durham miners' gala.
This is an old day out associated with trades unionism and, in particular the miners and mining villages that used to stretch across county Durham. I'd sort of, vaugely heard of it but if you'd have asked me I would have said it died out with the pits in the mid to late 80s.
How it works is each pit (usually) a village, carries a huge banner behind which their brass band plays and the village would follow on behind that and large quantities fo alcohol would be consumed. The parade would end up at the racecourse where political speaches were given. This year it was the leader of the opposition, the Magic Granddad, as the star turn.... Hence the machine gun totting police (I don't mean in a political assination sense of it!).
The black drapes along the top of the banner used to be used to signify that someone had died in that mine during the year. Now, they symbolise the death of mining!
This will be a blog about my latest shots and what I liked or was trying to do with them
I am a teacher of Economics and have worked in various schools in Europe & Asia. One of the things I love doing is getting out and about with my camera.