Guy Fawkes Day – 5/11/05

In 1605/1604, a group of thirteen angry Catholics, disappointed in their government, tried to blow up the houses of Parliament with gunpowder. The hope was by offing the king and the Parliament, the Catholics could triumph over the resulting anarchy and create a government more appropriate to their liking. The Gunpowder Revolution never got the kick-off that it needed. The plot was betrayed the before King James set foot in the Parliament. A few years later, King James decided there should be a holiday, celebrating the failure of the plot. The mercenary Guy Fawkes was not the leader, or even one of the instigators. He was the one caught with the gunpowder on that fateful night, so the day is named for him. The celebration is known more commonly as Fireworks Day or Bonfire Night for those particular aspects of the celebration. Bonfires are built, fireworks are set off and effigies of Guy Fawkes are burned. Supposedly, effigies of the Pope were burned in the bonfires, too, in celebration of the plotters’ Catholic roots, but I don’t know how widespread that practice is anymore.

The official celebration of city of Edinburgh no longer involves a large bonfire and a burning effigy of Guy Fawkes or the Pope. Instead, the celebration involves a huge fireworks display which one can enjoy for £4.50 per person at the Meadowbank Stadium. Disappointed in the lack of bonfire, we passed on the official celebration and instead chose to be among the couple hundred idiots to climb Arthur’s Seat without a torch that night. Based on the age of the crowd, the number of fireworks set off throughout the park and the general ambiance, my guess is that we were in the very small sober minority.

We walked from our flat to Holyrood Park through a frickin war zone. There were fireworks going off everywhere. Our neighbours across the street had a roaring bonfire in their backyard and they set off a handful of fireworks. More neighbours down the street had a less impressive fire, but a more impressive arsenal of fireworks. We walked up Craigmillar to West Mayfield to Dalkeith Road under a constant barrage of green and red and white explosions accompanied by the telltale eeeeeeee’s, poof’s and pop’s. After we turned the corner, we heard the unsurprising Dopplered wail of fire trucks. Inevitability.

Holyrood Park is just outside the University of Edinburgh campus with most of the dorms. As we were walking toward the entrance, so were many dormitories. That neither Lucas nor I brought a torch was immaterial. The ambient light, the procession of freshers and the occasional resourceful kid with a torch guided the way. In retrospect, we chose one of the more difficult routes to the top, with the occasional rock scramble required in unreliable light. Every time we looked back, fireworks were visible in every direction. Some of the people less excited about climbing Arthur’s Seat in the dark were exploding their own fireworks from the flatter grass below.

No clock of any kind meant I had no idea how long it took to reach the first summit (not the “Seat” itself), but once we were there, we could look in every direction and see fireworks exploding or coloured halos around the hill’s other peaks. For the first time, we could see the small glow of local bonfires in the distance. Sadly, the effigies of Guy were too small to see.
Some people enjoyed setting off bottle rockets from the top of the hill. Others traced words and shapes with sparklers. Some sat and enjoyed the show. Some enjoyed it a bit more than others with some marijuana. One industrious reveler had carried a battery operated radio with him. I just wish his taste in music was better.

The big celebration at Meadowbank Stadium was not visible from our perspective – the Seat was in the way. We decided to hike/stumble over to see if we could find it. We found a few paths across the hill. In general, looking down, the darkness was either a hole, an opportunity to fall off the hill or a trail leading somewhere. These dark lines were trails, but we walked slowly just in case. Once around the base of the Seat, we saw the stadium and its show in the distance. We made it there in time to see maybe the last ten minutes of the show. It was impressive, but not $8 impressive.

Once we were at the base of the Seat, there was no reason not to finish the last few metres of the climb. At the top, we found ourselves amidst another see of unknown and probably intoxicated college students, so we took a quick glimpse of the lights of City Centre and climbed around bodies and bottles to get back down to where we were. After enjoying a few more sights of the city, we decided it was time to find our way down, well before the drunks.

The far side of the hill is a much easier climb than the park entrance. The steeper parts have a rock trail and a chain fence to follow. Considering this path down wound through some of the darkest parts of the park, we appreciated both. It took us only a few minutes of meandering to find the paved road that winds through the park. Left or right would take us to the exit. On the way, we saw what looked like water, so we walked left to investigate.

The water was indeed water. Ghost swans eased across the lake as we walked beside it. In the darkness, it looked like a natural loch instead of the dammed pond we found at the base of the hill a few weeks back. I think the water diversion made for a much longer walk home, as we had to follow the paved road first to the bottom and then around Salisbury Crags to get back to the park entrance by the dorms.

We could have walked out one of the other entrances, but each of those would require a longer walk or multiple busses to get home. We walked among more fireworks, especially once we were at house elevation. By the time we reached the roundabouts at the appropriate park entrance, the celebrations had degenerated to fireworks atop the hill, fireworks along the path down, fireworks launched from the Crags toward Arthur’s Seat. Again, sirens wailed in the distance. Inevitability.

One group of college kids at the base was just finishing off their collection of fireworks when we arrived, so we lingered a bit to enjoy the last of the show. The “big one” was a collection of maybe ten red and white explosions launching from one bigger than average tube. Not bad for an off the shelf kaboom. In the distance, the faint glow of torches down the paths showed the partygoers retreat from Arthur’s Seat. It was time to call it a night.

The fireworks continued as we walked home, but the pops and kabooms became much more infrequent. We were home before 22:00 and by 23:00, they were extremely intermittent. I suspect that I slept through the last of them. Sunday night felt like Guy Fawkes’ wake. Intermittent fireworks punctuated the night, but lacked the extent and intensity of the previous celebration. This time of year is the only time that fireworks are sold in the city of Edinburgh, but I bet the sales would compare well to Tennessee’s annual fireworks revenue.

I think next year, we need to host our own bonfire.