There's 'nowt queer as folk........an Article (quite long). by Vic Davey

The names of current World Champions, Adam Taylor and Annie Mitchell don't immediately spring to mind when looking at England's sporting achievements, but they are champions indeed....in Welly Wanging. No it's not a euphemism, it really is an event. I came across it when I was thumbing through a copy of “Unusual English Pastimes and Traditions”, you know the kind of thing, Morris Dancing, Bog Snorkelling etc. (which has nothing to do with shoving your head down the toilet).

No, Welly Wanging is the act of chucking a standard Wellington boot as far as you can. Apparently, launching it off the end of your foot is a variation which is frowned upon. The World Championships takes place, annually, in the town of Upperthong, (you couldn't make this up could you?) and the rules are enforced by The World Welly Wanging Association. Legend has it that it started when a farmer, having a quiet drink in his local pub, had a pint of beer spilt down his trousers and thereby filling his wellington boot. So enraged was he that he chased the offender out of the establishment, took off his alcohol filled foot-ware and threw it at the hastily retreating escapee. It is not recorded whether the said boot landed on the victim, but, a new pastime was born, by people who surely had far too much time on their hands. 

It is, perhaps, not surprising that a number of these eccentricities come about after the imbibing of copious amounts of alcohol. Take Dwyle Flonking for instance. This involves two teams dancing around each other while one tries to hit the other with a Dwyle, which is a cloth, soaked in beer and launched from a pole. (That is the long stick, not a person of Eastern European ethnicity). Apparently there is a referee who, according to the Rules, should be  “dull witted”. I'm guessing here that referees are not too difficult to find! One of the very specific rules says that if the Dwyle misses, the “flonker” must drink a chamberpotful of ale, which I sincerely hope had been thoroughly washed out first, although by this time, presumably no one would notice anyway.  The sport – and I use the term loosely- originated in Beccles in Suffolk.

As well as the previously mentioned World Champions we also have another, whose time of 5 hours 30 minutes stands from 2010. The event? Ferret Legging. This involves putting a pair of ferrets down one's trousers, the ankles of which are tied to prevent escape. The competitors must then stand in front of  the judges for as long as they can - oh, and they must not wear any underwear since the ferrets should have free access to move between legs. The ferrets are also inspected to make sure they are not sedated and that they have a full set of teeth.  In the words of  previous champion, Reg Mellor, contestants require “little native skill” but have the ability to “have your privates bitten and not care.” The introduction of a female version, 'ferret busting', which involved putting a ferret down the blouse was not successful.  Doesn't it make you proud to be British?!

Of course, it's not just the Brits who enjoy unusual customs, our Spanish friends and neighbours are not immune. Take the Galician town of Laza for instance. At Carnival time, one of their bizarre events is 'ant throwing'. No, it's not a contest to see how far they can be flung, rather the ants are collected in sacks from the countryside outside the town, doused with vinegar to wake them up and then flung at spectators and performers alike. Nice.

A bit closer to home is the re-enactment of an old battle between the towns of Baza and Gaudix. An inhabitant of Gaudix is sent to Baza to steal the statue of the Virgin de la Piedad. He never succeeds of course and for his trouble he is covered in tar and paint thrown by the people of the town and then sent on his way. Whereupon his arrival back in Gaudix, he is covered in tar and paint again for having failed!  Apparently they are not short of volunteers.....

Perhaps one of the more distasteful episodes takes place in El Puig, Valencia, during the fiesta of San Pedro Nolasco. One of the 'spectacles', sees the “Battle of the Dead Rat” where the indiscriminate throwing of rats at each other is enjoyed. I guess all that can be said for it is that at least all the rodents are dead, but how it connects to San Pedro Nolasco remains a mystery. He was born in the 12th Century in France and moved with his family to Barcelona and eventually became heavily involved in the ransoming and freeing of Christians captured by the Moors, for which he was eventually canonised.

During my researches into strange customs I came across El Caganer.  He is an important figure at Christmas time in Catalunia and is seen, specifically, as part of the Nativity scene. You know, the traditional one with Mary, Joseph, the infant Jesus, cattle, shepherds, wise men and also El Caganer. Before you go rushing for your dictionaries, I should explain, he is the 'pooing man'. Afraid so.

Apparently he is always somewhere to be seen, thankfully not part of the central tableau, but tucked away in the background, performing a bowel movement. He could be dressed as a football player, film star, monk or shepherd and represents a symbol of good luck and a good harvest since the earth requires fertilizer and, let's be honest,  he is providing some of it in his own unique way. This he has been doing since the late 17th century and is considered to be as important to the Nativity scene as the main characters themselves. Irreverent? Well, the Catalans will say what about what the little Belgian boy does in the fountain in Brussels?   Not exactly the same thing though is it?    

My favourite custom has to be that which is celebrated on the 23rd April, especially in Barcelona. It is called La Diada de San Jordi. We recognise it better as St. George's Day but it has a Catalan twist to it. Here it is more like we would recognise as Valentine's day as it's alternative title is El Dia de La Rosa and/or El Dia de El Libre. Traditionally, men would give a lady a rose and she would give him a book, “ a rose for love and a book forever”. In Barcelona, the main street, La Rambla, is filled with thousands of flower and book stalls. The book exchange is apparently a more recent addition to the celebration, from the early 1920's when an enterprising bookseller realised that Miguel Cervantes and William Shakespeare both died on the same day in 1616, April 23rd.

Barcelona is the publishing capitol of Spain and some 4 million roses and 800,000 books will have been sold by the end of that day. Roses of different colours will be given with each colour determining the meaning of the gift; red being the most common, symbolising passion and love. Blue roses have become popular and are given to friends to indicate trust while white roses are symbolic of purity and innocence and may be given to women in the hope for a long lasting relationship and also to an ill person to show you are caring about them. Yellow roses are also seen but are less common and may be given to young people since they characterise joy and happiness. 

The day appears to be a happy festival with dancing, street performers, book readings by authors and, strangely, the only day of the year when Barcelona's main governing building, the Palau de la Generalitat, is open to the public. This building dates from the earliest 15th century and is, reportedly, one of Europe's most important Medieval structures. So, if you happen to be in the vicinity of Barcelona around 23rd April, it looks like a fun place to be, unless you suffer from hay-fever or  bibliophobia!