REVIEW: Bridgwater Carnival is a serious business but it's not for me

Bridgwater Carnival is a serious business. It may look bright and cheerful - a two-hour romp with a host of happy smiling pirates, cheerleaders, farmers, majorettes, rockers, tinmen and one guy dressed up as a giant fried egg - but it takes a lot to hard work to look this carefree.

Surveying the carts before the procession on Saturday evening, I saw some roadies napping on them. And no wonder they were tired: one roadie, who simply called himself 'granddad', said as soon as the carnival season is over preparations for the next begin.

For many, the carnival circuit is part of a family tradition. I spoke to a family spanning four generations, 90-year-old Irene, 67-year-old Angela, 40-year-old Helen, and seven-year-old Flo, all proud members of the Nunsford Nutters Carnival Group.

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The carnival is no laughing matter for the spectators either: one colleague warned me never to refer to the carts as floats. He made that mistake once and paid for it with 72 letters of complaint.

I had a little personal experience with the hard-core elements of carnivals. My sister was carnival princess when she was 12, an experience she often likened to military conscription.

A whole summer was spent in an endless parade of, well, parades. Her days were filled up with smiling, waving and feeling sad when she had to miss days out with her friends. So while carnival is bright, fun, and silly, I knew children and adults alike at Bridgwater were working hard to put a smile on our faces.

And at least my sister ran the circuit in the summer: these brave performers were out there dancing in a cold, dark, intermittently rainy evening in November. My editor explained its best to arrive two to three hours before the procession starts to get a good spot.

Later on, I noticed a man watching from a brambly hedge, so it's a good thing I heeded his advice. One industrious soul hauled a sofa in the back of a van and parked it with a street-side view.

Some brought fold out chairs: one man joked that next year he'd set up a stall for people who'd forgotten theirs and charge them £30 (we haggled down to £15). Others sat on the pavement or stood.

And then the procession started. Pirates were a major theme this year - I spotted four carts channelling their inner Captain Jack. Cheerleaders showed up twice.

Another popular subgenre of cart was apparently pinball - two carts were inspired by Pinball Wizard, one which played the original and another which made the somewhat baffling decision to play the Glee version. Perhaps fittingly for Somerset, farmers were a frequent motif.

Whatever the theme, the performers always put their hearts into it. The carts themselves were truly impressive. One particularly delightful one was called the library and recreated scenes from classic children's books: Alice in Wonderland, Matilda, Jack and the Beanstalk.

And they thought of every last detail, painting dozens of books with famous titles even though a lot of the audience wouldn't get the chance to read them all - The Hunger Games, The Worst Witch, The Tiger Who Came For Tea. It was true dedication.

Another fun cart was themed around the West End, with performers recreating Mary Poppins, Matilda, We Will Rock You, Phantom of the Opera and Six.

One moment that particularly tickled me was the fry-up themed cart, where everyone - dressed up as various English breakfast foods - was beaming. Except for one small boy playing baked beans.

He was dancing along, but his expression was very stern and intense. Even for baked beans, carnival is no laughing matter.

Then came the ads. Yes, it's true, carnivals don't run on hopes and dreams. Sponsors, are an essential part of putting this show on the literal road.

I appreciate ad carts might be inevitable. But would it kill them to get into the spirit of it a bit? Some sponsors just drove by in a van with a logo on the side.

Did they not get the memo that Bridgwater Carnival is a serious business? Have some fun with it. Get that plumbing business to dress up as mermaids, have the accountants do a little dance, I don't know. Maybe the marketing consultants could juggle swords.

All in all, the animatronics and decorations were wonderful. The performers were great. The music had a bassline strong enough to restart a heart. It was all very impressive and yet, as I got cold and tired and my feet started to ache, I found it harder to summon enthusiasm.

With the huge crowds, disorientating lights, and earth-shaking music, I couldn't help but feel this might not be my cup of tea. By the time the Beatles float came around blasting Hey Jude I could feel a bit of a migraine coming on.

I came away with a deep respect for the carnival, and I think it's a wonderful thing for families and children. That being said, perhaps I'm just not the target audience.

If it is your thing, my advice for next year would be wrap up warm (better to overdress and take off a layer than underdress and have nothing to put on!), take a hot drink in a flask to avoid crazy coffee prices, and maybe buy a chair from that budding entrepreneur I bumped into.