Southwest of England is known for its weirdest festivals and esoteric beliefs. These uncommon rituals define the history and culture of this part of the country which is beautifully diluted with traditions being followed for years and are embedded strong enough to continue for generations to come. One of these festivals is the bonfire festival of Tar Barrel which is celebrated in the Saint Mary’s Ottery in Devon on the 5^th of November, also known as the Parliament Day or Guy Fawkes Night in the UK.

I got a chance to indulge in this bonfire festival while I was studying in Exeter. As the Parliament Day marks one of the greatest bonfire festivals, a small village in South West of UK, Saint Mary’s Ottery has its own way of cherishing the history associated with this day. The locals carry huge barrels filled with tar and parade across the streets of the village while hundreds of people gather to witness this supremacy of tar barrel. The atmosphere is very festive, however, very claustrophobic. The story describes how a bonfire festival night turned into a struggle for a claustrophobe and pyrophobe and she triumphs over her fear that night.

The Fire Plot

Flaming alleys with the massive crowd gathered all around, shouting in chaos and hue, large barrels flaunting across the ground with blaze rising from them, the place was completely set to fire. As more barrels rolled, the fire raged. River Otter flew calmly beside the burning sight and the two looked like parallel lines moving together but failing to meet. The moon litten water droplets contrasted beautifully with the flashing neon in the background and the dark night lit with flames. There was a sea of humans all around, some swaying from the windows above, looking like human minarets. Thousands of spectators wedged me further towards the fire and I expected an inevitable tragedy while I witnessed this tussle among the locals to have the supremacy of a fire barrel. I panicked to grasp a mouthful of air as I submerge in the ocean of people mesmerized by the burning blanket. The chills of the winter night stroked through the skin while the barrels flame licked the crowd. The frost bounded wind strife with flaring bonfire as far as my vision supported me. For a pyrophobe and claustrophobe, the bonfire festival of Tar Barrels in Saint Mary’s Ottery, wasn’t a thing to fervour but to fear. This shabby little town in the South West of England comes to life every year revelling the most spectacular bonfire night with the most courageous people fighting off the deadliest and evilest spirits.

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Knowing the bonfire festival origin - Guy Fawkes Story

As I boarded the bus from Exeter, a little city on the hill, towards this festive town to delve into English customs and mystical beliefs, a local went on narrating the origin of this night, “For reasons yet to be known, the people of Saint Mart’s Ottery parade through the alleys of the town with barrels filled with tar every year to mark the commemoration of Guy Fawkes Night. This festival named as Tar Barrel tradition dates back to 1605 and one plausible reasons for its celebration is the gunpowder plot staged to kill James I of England and explode the entire parliament in London on 5^th November 1605 as the Catholics were infuriated with the King.” He continued, “The king was fortunate enough to survive and therefore ordered the celebration to done on this date.” This left me in awe as I was surprised to see a remembrance on a murderer’s name. since that day, 5^th of November marks the bonfire festival in the UK.

The bonfire festival scene

The massive River Otter seemed very little to extinguish the flames, not because the chaos was huge but because this custom had been ignited very strongly for generations. The river was silent that night while the moon had gathered stars to witness the defeat of evil spirits.  Only the village veterans get the privilege of running across the streets carrying barrels high with tar to celebrate hundreds of year’s old eccentric tradition. As someone doubted rolling the barrels as timid, the tradition got wilder as the locals lifted the tar barrels on their shoulders as they marched across the alleys.

While I swam in this display of courage and conformance to customs, my fears captivate me. “You alright?” Alexandra asked me while mimicking another typical English way of speaking, diluted with her Greek accent. She strived to drag me away from the human volcano, however failing miserably. Meanwhile, my imaginations waged a war against me where I fought with the fear of fire and encapsulation.

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Encounter with my fears

For all my life, I was haunted by fire and closed places. Slightest of burning sensation caused the greatest discomfort to me. I avoided confined spaces which left me suffocating always. Today a night of celebration and conviviality, turned into a face-off with my fears.

Alexandra finally triumphed over the human blanket to shelter me in the nearby pub. “It is a ritual to visit a pub tonight” she mentioned offering me a glass of special cedar prepared to enhance the festive mood. “It is made with four special herbs to keep us warm”, she justified her gesture of getting me a drink which I politely refused crediting my cultural habits. As Bonfire festival falls in November which is among the coldest months in England, another custom dwelled in this tiny village beside hosting flaming barrels. This tradition involves celebrations with a special cedar prepared to keep the body warm in case the rising temperature of the festival fails to do so.

I triumphed, finally

As I stood still in the pub appalled by my fears, I watched people dancing along with the herd to the notes of music blasting off from a nearby food truck. The sight of masses cherishing the festive mood when the air was brimmed with puffs of smoke and one would hardly touch the ground underneath, was indeed motivating for someone who was reluctant to step outside dreading the ultimate dismay in atmosphere packed with human torches. Sheltering in the pub, my brain was silent in the deafening din while I gathered my memories of fear. Memories when my skin felt the slightest of burning candle’s heat and I struggled to regain my breath. I intervened in the darkest region of my brain, this time not to dread or panic, but to emerge as a conqueror over the feelings that haunted me forever.

My body shivered in the sickening cold, however, the allure to fight my fears kept me going. The valour displayed by the locals spell bounded me and with great audacity, I stepped outside to drown myself in the sizzling ocean. Alexandra looked in her disbelief as she helped a local woman to hoist a tar filled barrel onto my shoulder.  That night, I participated in the years’ old ritual of defeating the most malevolent forces, the forces which daunted me all my life.

Visiting the Ottery for the British bonfire festival

The bonfire festival in the Ottery itself is free and the only cost incurred is the transportation cost. While coming from London, one can either drive straight to St. Mary’s Ottery or can catch a public bus from Exeter that would reach the Ottery within 30 minutes.  The nearest big city is of Exeter and one can take a direct train from London or anywhere in the south-west of the country to Exeter’s St. David station. Check out Cheap Train Tickets.

Alternatively, there are direct buses to Exeter ran by National Express. If you are driving to the Ottery, be careful as the roads get very crowded. As it is cold winter month and British weather can ditch you anytime, do not rely on the blazing atmosphere and the local cedar to keep you warm. In fact, carry a coat to beat the cold.

One of the greatest bonfire festivals is celebrated on the 5^th of November in the UK. Did you ever plan to explore it? Are you a claustrophobe or someone scared of fire? One of the reasons we travel is to take challenges and indeed this was one of the greatest challenges I faced. Have you faced any of your fears while travelling? Do let me know in the comments.

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