Jack and I went to the Ommegang pageant in July. Last year we went to the parade part, which was simultaneously fascinating and lame, aside from the fact that they gave the onlookers beer, which was just plain great. We had heard that the pageant was something to see, so we got tickets (which was another story in and of itself, albeit a less interesting one).

On the day of the show there was some weather brewing, so we prepared ourselves with rain gear, warm layers, and schnapps. We got to the Grand Place in plenty of time to find our seats and watch the performers limbering up, in the case of the acrobats, or promenading and greeting one another, in the case of the nobility. (Thankfully we had paid for the program, which gave a blow-by-blow accounting of the events in English, and we discovered that many of the people dressed up as nobility were, in fact, actual nobility.)

The whole point of the show was to reenact a procession in which Charles V came to Brussels in 1549 to much fanfare. So about half of it consisted of people in a variety of costumes entering the arena and slowly making their way up to the grandstand set up for the royal party. Everyone's outfit was described in meticulous detail in the program. ("Christine of Denmark, Duchess of Lorraine, blue and gold brocade dress with sumptuous fur wristbands.") It also related, with the benefit of 458 years of hindsight, some of the intrigue going on behind the scenes. You have to pity those who saw it the first time around, because they probably wouldn't have known any of this stuff. Charles V eventually came, and we were informed that the actor was wearing a prosthetic chin crafted for the event. The chin, thought to be a result of inbreeding amongst the Habsburg line, was covered by a beard, so there wasn't much to see.

Interspersed with the nobles, we got to see a horseman carrying the flag of America, back when America was part of the Spanish empire. It was too busy with symbols for my liking. Much better was the flag of Grenada, which featured a lovely watermelon, and the flag of the Indies, jaundice-yellow polka dots on a white field. In fact, there was a ton of flags to represent just about everything: the 7 gates of the city of Brussels, the European nations (modern and ancient), the prominent families of Brussels, and so on. Some of these were tossed in the air by flag corps to break up the monotony of the procession a bit.

The second half came as twilight receded and the rain began. There was a virgin on a litter, some giants, a dragon, a wheel of fortune, and peasants who performed some peasant dances. The beer guys came by, and also a cake lady this time, but we were too far in the middle of the stands to get any. Also popular were the two men in costume who had the job of cleaning up the horse poop. The jester began heckling some Asian people in front of us, although he was speaking in English and disparaging English-speaking tourists. (There were surprisingly few of these--most people around us seemed to speak French.) As the rain continued, many people abandoned their seats for drier pastures. We took sips of the schnapps and hunkered down.

Then came the stilt walkers of all sizes. After they had tromped around a bit the most real and therefore one of the most entertaining parts of the evening commenced: stilt fighting. A bunch of kids on stilts about 4 feet high, trying to knock each other down to the slippery cobblestones below. Yikes. I don't think anyone was seriously injured, but I bet there were some nasty bruises the next day.

At the very end, after the magician had disappeared himself and after the red flares were lit, causing the arena to fill with smoke and a hellacious glow, all the costumed revelers entered the square and began dancing. The ones that most particularly caught my eye were the Gilles of Binche, which had silly puffed-up costumes covered in cryptic symbols. They wore serious expressions and bells and clogs and white skullcaps with jaw straps as they walked rhythmically and held an upside-down basket aloft. Who could not be attracted towards such strangeness? This was followed by a laser show, probably not part of the original.

Then the king left and it was all over. Was it worth the €30? We had a good time, although I could've done with less rain and more beer. But I have my memories as well as a whole passel of blurry photos to document the event.