For the past few weeks, I have heard so many fireworks going off in the middle of the night, I could have sworn it must have been the Fourth of July. But, in fact, it was the lead up to what I've dubbed the British version of Independence Day: Bonfire Night. I've tried to understand this night with the various explanations from my flatmates and this is what I have concluded: a man named Guy Fawkes tried to blow up King James with 36 barrels of gunpowder* and so to commemorate that night, British people set off a bunch of fireworks and build big bonfires. This is where that rhyme "Remember, remember the fifth of November" comes from. There are bonfires and lots of fireworks, much like the Fourth. So we went out to the sea, at Roker pier (near Illuminations), to watch. There were tons of fireworks right over the sea, just past the sand. They reflected off the waves, making everything burn twice as bright. The fireworks were close enough that we could feel each explosion. We stood enchanted by the magical display, and it felt familiar and different at the same time. Familiar because I knew these fireworks and their lovely displays, but different because I'd never seen them dancing over a sea before.
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Amy Golden
Amy will be spending the academic year at the University of Sunderland in England studying journalism. Archives
February 2018
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