And so, after a rather damp Bristol Pride and a less than sunny Manchester Pride, Yahweh saw fit to bless Cardiff Mardi Gras with wall to wall sunshine on Saturday. Surely, if God agreed with Cardinal O'Brien, the leader of the Catholic Church in Scotland, that gay marriage is a grotesque subversion, he wouldn't have given us such a glorious day.Maybe, instead, he chose to punish us in other ways; by ensuring that the the bar prices at the Mardi Gras were sky high whilst the quality of entertainment was abysmally low. I could've endured the worthy speeches had they been punctuated by something interesting to keep me occupied in between. However, some children dancing and someone from S Club 7 lip-synching and dancing rather badly just wasn't enough to keep me going. Indeed, the only thing that did sustain me was the excellent company.
In the end, despite the prohibitive prices, the alcohol won out. I was, by late afternoon, wide-eyed and legless. The promise of Heather Small topping the bill was, I have to say, a stretch too far. I had to be assisted off the field and, in an attempt to revive me, taken for something to eat at a restaurant in the town centre where I accidentally set fire to my napkin (or so I'm told).I look forward to a better Mardi Gras in Cardiff next year where fast track queues for ticket holders move quicker than the queues for non-ticket holders, where there's a better show of entertainment throughout the day, where alcohol is priced fairly and there's more of a choice, where the food is a little more varied than chips with everything and where I'm not getting collared every 30 seconds by someone wanting me to complete a bloody survey. Having had my bitch, I must say that I'm pleased it happened and I'm glad I went. We all had a lot of fun.
| 1 Year Ago: | A period of re-adjustment... |
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