Rio it ain't...

During Carnaval, Gorinchem changes its name to "Bliekenstad" (the "bliek" is a fish which used to swim in our river) and the mayor hands over his duties to Prince Carnaval. A parade invades the town centre on the Saturday and for four days oddly-dressed folk walk the streets and take over half of the pubs.

We are at the northenmost reach of the influence of the largely catholic carnaval. It never really took on in the protestant Holland. Southern towns like Maastricht and Breda, well, they really go all-out. Nobody there is expected to turn up for work and it's taken for granted that morals are flaunted and bottles are emptied. 

But whether you're on the outer reaches of carnaval's influence, or slap-bang in the thick of things, one thing is for sure: the old idea that the festival precedes forty days and forty nights of abstinence is long forgotten. 

I remember Pancake Day in England, when we had to use up our eggs, butter, sugar and milk before Lent. And of course the moslims also observe Ramadan. Carnaval just seems to be a watered-down version of a long-forgotten excuse for a party, at least here in Bliekenstad. 

But Josie enjoyed it.