Last Friday, we fulfilled a nearly summer-long promise by taking Sam and Carter out to Carnivàle lune bleue at Hog’s Back Park—a tempting site we’d been driving by routinely for five weeks. It’s an evening event, so we chose a Friday and had the boys take an afternoon nap to prepare for being up late. And it turned out to be nearly midnight before they hit the hay, since the 7:30 seating of the Cirque du Maroc had sold out by the time we reached the old fashioned ticket booth and purchased the "Stringer" passes that gained us "first come, first served" access. The ticket was then collected by a charming midget, who assured us we were in for a treat.
Inspired by the colour, grit and bizarre allure of 1930’s carnivals and travelling freak shows, this fair was something out of the ordinary for these festival-going kids. They cautiously entered and then eagerly toured the Congress of Wonder, a tent filled with authentic early 1900 carnival artifacts and photos, and were suitably impressed by a turtle boy, a bearded lady, a seven-toed man, a baby Loch Ness monster, a one-legged pig, a two-headed cow and a man who 
could pick up heavy weights attached to his tongue or nipples (known as “Tough Tittie” to his friends) and so on. When Jeremy arrived a few hours later, the pair of them rhymed off those freaks of nature like they’d studied the write-ups for weeks. Here's hoping their normal social studies lessons will be captured so readily in their steel-trap minds!
The Great Snakes of the World act featured two purported “snake hunters” of the 1930s, who displayed a variety of potentially lethal snakes including a 20-foot Rock Python. They were full of tall tales about how they survived such things as an underwater Anaconda attack by slicing off the great snake’s head with a macheté that was ever at the ready. The boys sat cowering in the back row, electing not to touch any specimens. But it was all in the delivery: they’ve held bigger snakes in their laps at Little Ray’s Reptile parties!
They also took a ride on a 1917 Ferris Wheel and we all enjoyed a spin on the 1936 carousel. But, with 3.5 hours to fill before the main event, we ran out of (free) things to do and so sauntered up to Tim Horton’s for some hot chocolate and candy-sprinkled donuts. It was serendipitous that we returned after dusk, this time passing under the Carnivale archway all lit up and entering a park festooned with lights. The Unsettlers, a 10-piece Goth-meets-Folk band complete
with writhing contortionist, took the stage and kept the boys mesmerized until it was time to head for the Big Top.
could pick up heavy weights attached to his tongue or nipples (known as “Tough Tittie” to his friends) and so on. When Jeremy arrived a few hours later, the pair of them rhymed off those freaks of nature like they’d studied the write-ups for weeks. Here's hoping their normal social studies lessons will be captured so readily in their steel-trap minds!The Great Snakes of the World act featured two purported “snake hunters” of the 1930s, who displayed a variety of potentially lethal snakes including a 20-foot Rock Python. They were full of tall tales about how they survived such things as an underwater Anaconda attack by slicing off the great snake’s head with a macheté that was ever at the ready. The boys sat cowering in the back row, electing not to touch any specimens. But it was all in the delivery: they’ve held bigger snakes in their laps at Little Ray’s Reptile parties!
They also took a ride on a 1917 Ferris Wheel and we all enjoyed a spin on the 1936 carousel. But, with 3.5 hours to fill before the main event, we ran out of (free) things to do and so sauntered up to Tim Horton’s for some hot chocolate and candy-sprinkled donuts. It was serendipitous that we returned after dusk, this time passing under the Carnivale archway all lit up and entering a park festooned with lights. The Unsettlers, a 10-piece Goth-meets-Folk band complete
with writhing contortionist, took the stage and kept the boys mesmerized until it was time to head for the Big Top. Or rather the mini big top. Cirque de Maroc offered an intimate seating arrangement of maybe 10 rows in semi-circle around a large stage. The 75-minute act combined elements of the carnival, circus, vaudeville, and burlesque shows. Two sprightly clown acrobats (who kept the boys in smiles and giggles) introduced a troupe of six entrancing female acrobats who specialized in different apparatuses—chairs, hoops, tightrope, trapeze, aerial ropes, and a circular metal contraption called a German Wheel. It was not surprising to learn that the troupe included Cirque du Soleil and Ringling Brothers-trained performers. The acts were often awe-inspiring—Carter gave every one of them a standing ovation, while Sam was heard to mutter from time to time, "She should not be doing that..." Death-defying feats would seem to be against a mother's dire warnings about cracked skulls and the like.
Afterwards, we spent a few minutes watching a film production being shot on site. Some sort of zombie-esque patient propped up next to the old carousel is whisked away by ambulance attendants. The name of the film escapes me, but apparently entering the grounds themselves was tantamount to agreeing to be an extra. So it's possible "small child in hoodie" was Sam's first movie role.
It was a crisp late summer night, and a nice walk back to the Mooney's Bay lot, where we left the car. We haven't been out this late (any of us!) all summer long. The last big event before the start of Grade One. We did it up right.
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