2004-03-07 : Multiple choice.
I'm a little unsure what I should title this post really. I'm thinking either “Oh god, this is hopeless”, or “I have the navigational skills of a sock puppet”.
Saturday signified my first public dance-out with the Morris side. Mike & I mosied down to Mundulla (it's near Bordertown, and I've got no idea how we got there, so that's the best decription you're going to get), and met the guys out the front of the Old Mundulla Pub (a totally top spot – more about that later).
We were down there to dance for the Moot Yang Gunya Festival. Sadly, I've no idea what that means at all either. The best bit of info I could ascertain was that Moot Yang Gunya is the name of a nearby swamp. Evidently, they celebrate this swamp, and for some reason somebody thought traditional English dancing would be relevant.
I felt a little silly, being the only one in the team without top hat or baldrics or rosettes… but that alone was worth it, because who'd have ever thought it possible to feel silly for NOT being covered in various ribbons, eh ? I had a really cool time dancing, and was surprised to find I knew most of the dances. Even a lot of the ones I sat out of cos I didn't recognise the names, I watched and realised I could have done !
After countless hours of dancing (and topping up with the odd “refreshment”), we moved back to the pub (dancing all the way, mind you – nearly damn well killed me !!) at the invitation of Georg, the publican. We suspect he'd invited us partially to get out of trouble with his wife, because he was meant to be back at the pub working… and I suspect this measure may have been less than successful… however the pub was completely wicked, and the locals were all keen to see a spot of dancing.
[gratuitous plug] Incidentally, if you're ever in Mundulla, be sure to stop by the Old Mundulla Pub – it's a charming little building, the food's good, and Georg and his wife are great hosts !
Now, the reference to “Oh God, This Is Hopeless” I made further up the page refers largely to my initial few efforts at getting ready to dance. Mainly the effort at finding some bells that would fit me – as you can tell from the photos, Morris Men dance with bunches of bells tied to their shins. All the other guys have skinny little legs, so in order to get a spare set of bells to fit I needed to integrate a couple of cable ties. It was hopeless, because I was giggling about the somewhat strange feeling of wearing bells, plus we were hurrying, plus there was a group of locals on the pub verandah discussing how they thought we were goal umpires initially.
I'll get back to the directions thing later – that's from the trip to Melbourne, which is another story.
Oooh yes, we also had dialogue at Mundulla regarding the best way to catch a hunstman spider. According to a few of my Morris colleagues, they believe that a slice of white bread is excellent for performing this feat. As I've said before on this site, I'm more of a “trap it under a glass” proponent (unless there'a vacuum cleaner nearby – the natural predator of the hunstman) but next time I reckon I'll whip out a couple of slices of Swiss Maid and give it a go !