Saturday – April 23rd, 2022 – St. George’s Day
May 5th, 2022 by rallyadmin
April 23rd is celebrated in the UK as St. George’s Day, celebrating the Christian saint who defeated a dragon to save a princess from human sacrifice. Yes, Roman soldiers who would someday become Christain saints did things like that back then around 300 AD. You don’t see so much of that anymore.
But things did not go well for the soon to be St. George. When he refused to persecute Christians in 303 AD he was tortured and killed in what is now Palestine. They still do that today in what is now known as Palestine. Not kill Christians so much, more torture and kill people. You can find out more here or here . What all this has to do with us is today’s post.
In the present day United Kingdom, St. George’s day is a feast day celebration which takes on many forms, most commonly a pub crawl, I’m told. That left me wondering what could possibly be the difference between an every day pub crawl and a St. George’s Day pub crawl. Little did I know that I’d soon find out.
Clemo’s trips always have some clever twist to them that he springs on the unsuspecting group sometimes before the trip and sometimes after the trip has started. For example, before the Grecian 3000 rally (my first with Clemo), we were asked to bring a costume for a “Silly Dressup Night” which took place at the restaurant in a campground outside of Thessaloniki, Greece. John Alkema and I went as “typical” Yank explorers, complete with cargo shorts, pith helmets and Hawaiian shirts. We weren’t even close too the silliest getups that night.
On our (John and I) first Vietnam moped trip, everyone but us were told to bring the silliest adult onesy that they could find. Clemo thoughtfully brought two for John and I: a dark blue onesy with a huge Union Jack on the front and back, a reminder of our current status of “Brit colonials”. It seems that the Brits are still having issues with our revolution during which THEY LOST! (Sorry, I digress.)
Personal history aside, for this trip Clemo and Pinky brought Knights of St. George costumes for all of us to wear on April 23rd. The costumes were complete with capes with the St. George flag motif, faux chain mail, a white blouse with a bright red cross and pants, faux leather belt, leggings and arm protectors. Dressed we certainly looked the part.
As the sun set, we met at the hotel bar for my ceremonial knighting as Sir Buck, member of the TukTuk Rally Table, a few pre-crawl fortifying meads (in this case, Lion Lager as mead is apparently in shorter supply than Petrol in current Sri Lanka) and the obligatory some pre-crawl photos. Ceremonies completed and photos (evidence?) taken, we were ready to head out for the first annual (?) F*&kin TukTuk Rally pub crawl in Negombo, Sri Lanka. Not so sure how ready the locals are for 11 lunatics dressed in bright red and white capes and costumes loose on the streets.
First stop after departing the hotel through the main lobby leaving the staff and other guests with mouths agape is the bar across the street. To call this place is a dive is to incorrectly raise its Yelp rating. And the management such as it is has the jovial manner that suggests that maybe you should have left you wallet in the hotel safe. But the place serves as an ideal place to see the initial effects of the locals.
Stunned doesn’t fully capture the effect we had when we first arrived. Expecting catcalls and derision (not really, these people are Buddhists, after all), we are greeted with joyful laughter and amazement. Out come the phone cameras for selfies and group photos. More beers and gin & tonics.
After a couple of preparatory rounds, we’re out and headed across the street to the high rise hotel just down the beach from our hotel. Just a note: a very effective way to stop evening traffic in Negombo is to have 11 lunatics dressed as St. George’s knights attempt to cross a busy street. It may not work for you but it worked super for us.
As soon as we get to the entrance to the high rise hotel, we are stopped by a hotel security guard who seems a bit taken aback by our costumes. But we are wrong. He only wants to take our temperatures with his pistol-shaped infra-red thermometer. Covid time, you know. Temps taken and passed (we are all vaccinated and some even boosted), we head for the lobby door. Only to be stopped by a young desk clerk.
He really is flustered by our getup. He doesn’t know whether or not to let us in and seems particularly concerned about the long broom stick to which Clemo has attached his Sri Lankan flag. He holds us there while another desk clerk runs to get “The Manager”. “The Manager” finally arrives, takes one look, has a pretty good laugh and sends us to the elevator. (I’m sure, though I could be wrong, that as soon as we left, help called the police just to give them a heads up. Can’t be too careful with 11 lunatic Brits on the loose in your hotel.)
Up the elevator to the roof and up the short flight of stairs to the pool and bar area. To a chorus of laughter and cheers from the bar staff and the few guests already in the bar. They already know us from previous trips to the bar during the previous day. The bar has plenty of beer and gin, pretty good food and continuous cricket highlights of the big telly. (How’s that for an honorary Brit: cricket highlights!)
More beers and drinks as the bar start to fill up. First with a group of about 8 Japanese (maybe?) girls. A few couples. And a lone attractive woman who claims to be a Russian (not Ukrainian). Maybe. More likely an upper end hooker. There’s a woman with a guitar, tonight’s live entertainment singing pretty much anything from the best of lists of the last 20-30 years. (She’s actually quite good and, it will turn out, a really good sport.)
The best thing about the bar is that it has great air con. The costumes were not designed with tropical temperatures and humidity in mind. (I have no idea how the real crusader knights wore their real armor in Jerusalem!) But as the night gets on and everyone is getting more and more “lubricated”, someone yells “karaoke” and John Boy jumps up and heads for the mike.
To her credit the woman singer seems to be totally on-board with the seemingly bad idea. (What could possibly go wrong with 11 semi-drunken Brits in costume, a bar full of local and international guests and free flowing drinks?) But after a quick discussion, John Boy leads the crowd in a resounding version of something, maybe “Sweet Caroline” by Neil Diamond. Somehow, everyone knows the lyrics (more proof of the overwhelming danger of the American cultural virus) and the night is off on a new tangent. Drinking, dancing, singing, jumping.
This goes on for a couple of hours with John Boy leading the way but eventually everyone is worn out and retreats to the usual “just one more drink” bar routine until the bar closes just about 1 AM. I’ve had it for the night and Pinky and I head back to the hotel. On the way through the lobby a few of the hotel staff are still shaking their heads probably in disbelief.
Tomorrow is another rest day and we are all going to need it. Though today was an easy day until sunset, after sunset we made up for it. In spades.
Obi