Historical Festivals

Walk the narrow, cobblestoned streets of the town of Le Puy-en-Velay in mid-September, and you'll swear you are in 16th-century France (if you ignore the cigarettes and cellphones). Aristocrats in fur-lined velvet cloaks stroll alongside peasants in plain tunics leading donkeys, jugglers perform, and vendors hawk meat pies.

The setting is the Independence Day Celebration at Old Sturbridge Village, the granddaddy of New England's living history museums, located in the real-life town of Sturbridge, Massachusetts

Lulworth Castle is a gem though, with round towers at each corner, every child's picturebook vision, and the Festival was arranged to take full advantage of this with the Arena right in front of the main entrance. I had rented a holiday cottage in the village for the weekend, and arrived on the Friday afternoon.

No sooner had we sat down in the semi-reconstructed Hippodrome at Jerash, Jordan's Roman city, a massive arena that once seated 15,000 spectators then, in the distance, I witnessed the appearance of a part of a Roman Legion, in a few minutes a re-enactment of the golden days of Rome came alive before us.

The buildings in the old part of Québec City resembled a collection of treasured jewels surrounded by ancient walls and crowned by the beautiful Fairmont Le Château Frontenac Hotel. Looking down on the city from the top of the funicular, a reasonable alternative from the very long and straight-up stairway called 'Heart Attack', I was surprised by the variety of colors of the copper roofs.

Around 9:30 PM on June 16th, the eve of feast day of Saint Ranieri who is the patron saint of Pisa, the buildings along the Arno River are transformed into a fantastical fairyland setting.

Rival teams from different quarters of Pisa fought for symbolic possession of a bridge over the Arno River. In those times, the games often degenerated into brutal and bloody man to man fighting.

Canadians seldom get vocal about much. There are loads of us in London but we never make ourselves known like our fellow Aussie and Kiwi working holidaymakers. A big reason for that could be that we don't have many events in London to support, but when July 1st rolls around, Canadians flock to the Maple Leaf pub in Covent Garden to show their patriotism.

It's September 15, but it looks more like Christmas on the Paseo de Reforma, all decked out in red, green and white banners and flags as Mexico City readies itself for Fiestas Patrias, Independence Day, the biggest fiesta of the year.

Brussels' Grand Place is packed with spectators, including the Royal Family and their guests, for the annual Ommegang, or 'walk about' in Dutch, the major annual event in the city since 1549. Although historians believe it began as a religious ritual in the 14th Century, the huge parade and festival is now devoid of religious connotations and focuses on local folklore and heritage.

As I make my way down a crowded narrow street away from the Place Royale in Old Quebec, a young girl, dressed as a scullery maid, her blouse smeared with dirt, looks up shyly at me from the street corner much as she might have done in 18th-Century Quebec. Not far from her, two couples, dressed in elegant brocades, chat, the husband of second couple gently kissing the hand of the first woman with a hardy 'Enchanté.' If I didn't know better, I'd have sworn I had been transported back in time to the beginnings of this beautiful city. But here I am standing amidst crowds of animated people, many of whom are dressed in 17th and 18th-century costumes. For this is Quebec's renowned Les Fetes de la Nouvelle France, or New France Festival.

Bellowing out his command loudly in Russian from right behind my ear, the captain sharply snaps me from my momentary lull in the baking Baltic sun.

Vying with Tokyo as the largest city in the world, Mexico City offers a myriad of cultural opportunities. But none shows off the city more than the Historic Center Festival held each year in April

It was more the intricacy than the size of Borobudur that first caught my attention. Although undoubtedly immense, the grand scale of Borobudur cannot truly be appreciated from a distance. Not unlike a pyramid or mountain in its overall appearance it challenges the traditional model of a temple in that it lacks an enclosed structure that is home to a depiction of a deity.

Thanksgiving. A joyous celebration of the Old World meeting the New World. How exciting it must have been the day the first settlers stepped foot onto this strange and wonderful world and came face to face with the original natives of this exciting new land. (Not unlike the Grand Opening of a Caldor's.)

Anzac Day, April 25th, is significant for both New Zealand and Australia where, in Australia, at least, it has become far more than a commemoration of war dead. The history of this day is relatively simple but its symbolism is extremely complex.

On the morning of June 19, 1865, the residents of Galveston, Texas awoke to discover the streets filled with soldiers wearing blue uniforms. The Union Army had arrived in force. A crowd quickly gathered as men and women, blacks and whites, rushed from their homes to learn what was happening.

The restless spirits wanted appeasing so a plan was struck. One night one of them entered the dream of a young member of the Ho clan and instructed him to make wooden masks to be used in a ritual dance for the spirits' pleasure.

Kick up the dust. Put on your best cowboy duds and get ready for some real down-home Americana at the Green River Rendezvous in Pinedale, Wyoming, a annual pageant offering a colorful collection of mountain men, explorers, Indians and well orchestrated drama showing the history of the region with a western bent.

One paragraph described the digger's leap from the landing boat and dash across the beach and up the hills to meet up with his unit. In his own words he described the landing as 'glorious fun'.