What a Difference a Gay Makes

(click on each picture for a larger image)

Brighton was transformed today by the annual Gay Pride Carnival Parade - and what a day it was!

We arrived at Preston Park about an hour before the procession was due to arrive and wandered around the various non-commercial stalls who were busy vying with each other trying to give away freebies. Several thousand pens, mousemats, fluffies, erasers, lollies and leaflets (informing me of everything from the Gay Scuba Divers Association to joining the Essex police force) later, we took our place by the side of the route. I can't begin to describe the vibrancy, sound and amazing sights that assailed us as the procession went by. The theme was Musicals and the sight of a pregnant Maria and several hairy nuns on the Sound of Music float will remain a treasured memory for a long time.


The parade route is long and the day was hot so some poor unfortunates were suffering when they reached us. Size 13 six inch stilettoes can be very punishing after several miles. The majority however were still in fine form and tribute must go to the guys dressed as helicopters (complete with fully rotating rotors) who accompanied Miss Saigon!

Perhaps the most surreal moment was a number of large, bearded Salvation Army "ladies" in full uniform and bonnets marching joyously down the road and offering spiritual guidance. Mind you, there were so many glorious moments it's hard to choose examples. One thing I would say is that the ladies of the London Fire Service scared the bejesus out of me. They had arm muscles bigger than my thighs!


In our politically correct world which has to demonstrate tolerance to all, the procession was led by a cohort from the Sussex Police, including the Deputy Chief Constable. As he smiled and waved, I wondered what was really going through his mind, knowing he was being immediately followed by the Brighton Gay Dance Club (called Cheek to Cheek !) and 12 Dorothys, all identically dressed in blue gingham and dancing with a precision on a par with a parade drill of the Scots Guards. Ooh, and talking of Scots, if I had £1 for every kilt I saw today.........


Anyway, the parade finished and so we started doing the rounds of the stalls. At one point, a jolly nice man approached me and brightly enquired if I dived? I looked at him with narrowed eyes until he explained (this is where I got the Gay Scuba Divers leaflet from) and, when I replied that I was a qualified scuba diver he frantically tried to cajole me into joining some of the dive trips that they organise. Obviously an optimistic chap, he started off with the Red Sea and Caribbean but then became desperate and glumly slumped to the depths (so to speak) of Pembrokeshire. I made my excuses and off we toddled once more.

By this time, the park was seething and some of the magic was lost insofar as the glamorous parade entrants had relaxed. One such gentleman, who had been in the parade resplendent in gold, sequinned frock and bouffant wig was sitting on the grass clutching a can of lager and scratching parts which no self-respecting lady would have, whilst another had removed his leather outfit to reveal a string vest.


The stalls sold everything from "herbal highs" to having your more important little places cast in plaster and preserved for posterity (presumably not a while you wait service). Several night clubs had their own bars and dance/music areas so the beautiful people abounded. We made a few purchases including a set of 3 more ducks for Mrs B's collection (all wearing ties and shades and entitled Reservoir Ducks), a new leather and silver bracelet for me and also a rather fetching hat (also for me).

By now, we were feeling a tad peckish but the queues for the many and varied food purveyors were enormous so we decided to forgo the pleasure of hog roasts,noodles or tofuburgers and just people watch. To quote the dreaded News of the World, all human life was there: some amazingly beautiful men and women, some not so beautiful and some downright weird. Mix in kids, families and assorted dogs and there were the ingredients for a terrific day out.

If you ever get a chance to go to such an event near you, just do it!

It's Carnival Time!

Tomorrow (or possibly today by the time I write this) is a big day in Brighton's calendar as it's the Gay Pride festival parade.

For those who don't know it or for the narrow-minded, this may conjure up visions of camp men and crop-haired females marching down the street and daring people to challenge them. Nothing could be further from the truth! It's an extravaganza of amazing floats, blaring music and wildly eccentric people having a bloody good time and celebrating the fact that they are allowed so to do. The streets are thronged by spectators who cheer and applaud, spurring on the float occupants to even more extravagance and fun.

The Parade culminates in Preston Park where there awaits an enormous number of stalls, bars, music tents and a fairground. We generally go to the park and watch the arrival. Part of the Carnival Parade tradition is one float which always gives away 1000s of gladioli so we'll make sure we get ours!

The stalls are a veritable cornucopia of treasures ranging from the Gay Police Association van, stalls selling amazingly funny (and extremely rude) clothes and tee shirts, weird jewellery, stalls promoting equality or highlighting inequality and a great many selling , how can I say this, toys and pleasure articles.

The whole point of the day is that there is nothing tawdry. You see plenty of guys as girls, same sex lovers strolling and just simply outrageously wacky people but the beauty is, nobody feels out of place and everybody accepts each other as what they are. Paradoxically, it's also a real family day with plenty of children there to join in the fun.

I remember taking my daughter when she was about 13 and she had a great time although, I admit, I had to steer her away from some stalls. There's never any trouble and the liberation of live and let live is palpable.

Full report to follow.

In the evening it's yet another musicfest when all the local bands play from about 6 until 10 at a park near us. Lark in the Park, as it's called, is just as much fun in its way because everybody seems to know everyone else and so it's a big social event as well as an evening of good music. All the guys playing look on it as the high point of their musical year so they're all really buzzing and the finale is a big firework display. OK, so it's not quite Woodstock but there's usually several hundred there and a jolly good time had by all.