Dunkerque gone wild -- carnival 2011 (by kerouac2)

The beer pavilions were ready and waiting. It was only about 10 a.m. at that time, but they were not lacking for business.



Everything was priced at 2€, I noticed, at all of these places -- beer, orange juice, soda, pastis -- except for champagne which went for 5€.



Lots of joyous drumming and singing, trombones and trumpets. Everybody knows the words to all of the songs except me.

There are even some vuvuzelas from South Africa China. Such items were invented for carnival use.

Are we having fun? Yes, we are. I enjoy watching people having fun in ways of which I am incapable. And of course, I have to back away from scary clowns. Actually, so many of the people look like clowns that I have to back away from just about everybody.

This was really brought home to me, though, during one encounter. I was suddenly bumped into rather abruptly, and a young man apologized to me profusely, even though he was not the person who had done the bumping. "Excuse us," he said. "We have a handicapped person." It looked like he might have been the older brother. The handicapped person in question was a young man perhaps about 21 years old hanging on to his mother. The young man wasn't physically handicapped but was autistic or suffered from Asperger's. I looked at the group and wished I would have known what to say, since I know all about disabled people and how difficult it is to go out with them sometimes. The young man suddenly grabbed my arm for a moment. His brother started asking forgiveness again, "Oh, I'm so sorry, he has never done that before!" The young man buried his head in his mother's shoulder and was crying his eyes out. He almost had to bend in half because he was so much taller than his mother, but I could tell that she was very used to having a shoulder wet with tears.

Anyway, they moved along, the young man still crying on the shoulder, and I felt so sorry for them -- trying to appreciate the most festive day of the year, hoping that the younger son would get something good out of the music and the colours and the ambient happiness, and discovering that once again, it was a case of fear and sensory overload.

This was the only blemish in this fantastic day.

People need to eat, and I certainly did by about 11:30 since I had been up since dawn and crossed half of Belgium on bumpy autoroutes. Friteries had been set up everywhere, of course.

Have you ever wondered if the French know about tailgating? I went back to the car for a little while after lunch, and these scenes should answer your question.

Kerouac, your group and crowd scenes are out of this world! Even the group of chimneys & the bunch of backs-of-legs are super photos.

Looks as though it was a cold, gray day, but all the pictures are vibrant.

Great fun, thanks!

It's pronounced Schtee.

A sentence I thought I'd never say, much less mean: "I must go to Carnival in the northernmost tip of France."

Who can't love people who fire cannons loaded with big disc confetti? Wow -- they do carnival with a vengeance there.

You caught the most wonderful crowd scenes, Kerouac, plus random portraits & vignettes. I don't have your aversion to costume, but wearing one makes me very nervous, so I especially admire how you caught the fun and exuberance. And yeah, being sober in that kind of crowd can leave one feeling bemused, if not isolated, but you obviously went with the flow quite nicely.

Are those real fish raining down?!

People should know that the carnival season starts in January and lasts 3 months. Every weekend you can find something and many weekdays too. The costumes are the same in all the cities except for the official processions.