2009 Carnival - Bacchanal Wednesday

Greetings peeps, Kermit D. Frog here.

Over the past 10 plus years, Bacchanal Wednesday has evolved from a sweet party in the Oval in downtown Port-of-Spain to the massive fete that it is today and some say that this growth has taken away much of its charm and allure in order to cater to a high volume of attendees. While I understand that the growth of as good a party as Bacchanal Wednesday undoubtedly is cannot be stopped, there comes a point beyond which the original concept is lost and a new paradigm takes over. That may not necessarily be a bad thing, but those of us who remember its early days in the Oval can’t help but yearn just a little bit for those times and some of the conveniences we took for granted. Parking, for example, was much easier back in the day. For that matter, simply getting to the fete was considerably less taxing then than it is today which brings me to where I am now…on my way to Chaguaramas to see what’s what at Bacchanal Wednesday 2009.



In order to avoid the usual drama that ensues when more than 8,000 people try to drive to a party location which has only one road in and out, the crew decided to get there REAL early and get citrus in the car park outside the venue. This would serve two main purposes: firstly, we would not be stuck in traffic for hours and, secondly we would be able to get our drink on with our own stocks rather than paying a small fortune to the bars inside the fete. With this plan in mind, we set out nice and early with ample stocks in the back and made our way to Bowen Marine, the site of Bacchanal Wednesday. After cruising there at a nice pace we arrived without incident around 9:30 pm and parked in a spot adjacent to the main road and only a few hundred yards away from the fete. We broke out the drinks and settled in for a nice gape. Since all traffic passed us on the way into the car park, we were treated to a preview of what we would see later that night and it was all good.

One of the greatest things about Bacchanal Wednesday was the gape. The sheer volume of beautiful women that come to this party staggers the imagination and fortunately, that had not diminished in any way. By now, much of the paved parking where we were was filled and cars were being directed into a vast field. With all the rain that had fallen earlier in the day and week, although the field was not a swamp, most of it was mud yet these beauties, replete in heels and white pants (tight of course) were emerging from the field without so much as a smudge anywhere. Maybe they had some kind of car park levitation skill or something but while you could see some mud on the fellas shoes, the ladies feet were spotless. Naturally we took a drink in their honor and debated how this could be. After an hour or so, one of the crew got hungry so he volunteered to make a KFC run (it was only a ¼ mile away so it was more of a KFC small jog) and upon his return in a half hour or so, we devoured the fowl he brought back.

By this time, the rest of the lime arrived and after another few rounds of drinks we depleted our stocks and decided that we might as well go inside. The stagger down the road didn’t take us too long but the closer we got to the venue, the more disturbing the scene became. There was a line of people wrapping around the fete and disappearing at some entrance way off around a corner and out of sight. MERDE! At least we were all still solidly under the influence so maybe the wait would not seem too long….sigh…we joined the back of the line and trudged slowly forward. After about 10 minutes, some of the other members of the crew decided to check out another entrance we could see in order to try to mamaguy all of us in. Almost immediately they returned saying that the line we were in was in fact the VIP line and the entrance with no one in line was general admission. What de jail is dis? We all moved to the entrance in question and sure enough we passed through security and was ushered in in two two’s. Hmm, I thought, hard luck for those VIP people in the muddy line. We immediately headed straight for the bar, bought our chits (STEUPS), resumed consumption of alcohol, and looked around for the best area to serve as our base of operations for the night.

As I said before, the fete was huge and even though it was not yet midnight the venue was filling quickly. The centerpiece of the fete was the clamshell stage which was set up facing the middle of the field. This stage is truly one of, if not the best on the island so we knew that with the night’s scheduled performers we would be in for a treat not only aurally but visually as well. I decided to make an immediate lap around the fete because when filled, this fete will not be navigated easily especially if I maintain my current level of alcohol consumption. A leisurely circle around the party confirmed what I had been seeing while liming outside: the beauty and sheer quantity of the ladies present in the fete was astounding and I did my best to capture as many of these visions of loveliness as possible. Not long after my return to the lime’s base the live performers started up and quickly had the crowd mesmerized and obsessed with what was taking place onstage.

Three of the heaviest “T’s” you could ever want to see were on stage performing their big tune for 2009, Obsessive Winers. Picture this my peeps, Destra Garcia was up first and she, being the youngest of the T’s, gave a high-energy, low-wining demonstration and then handed the baton off to Allison Hinds who put on display a kind of slow Falumawine. After that, all that was left was for Denise “Tractor License” Belfon to display her considerable gyratory talents after which all three did a synchronized wine that made men’s hearts race and knees wobble. It was during this performance that I realized the limitations of my camera as the zoom was woefully inadequate. The anti-shake was working like a boss (see previous heart and knee comment) but the zoom peeps, the zoom let me down. I needed to capture every detail of their waist motions and I was unable to do them full justice. I made a vow to correct this for next year’s festivities and sealed it with a drink (of course).

After this display, we eagerly awaited Machel Montano’s arrival in the clamshell. I had heard that he was a little off in 2009 and his shows were not as mind blasting as in previous years but I knew this was Bacchanal Wednesday and if there was one show in which he would go all out, this was it. This was the performance that would set the pace for the upcoming carnival weekend and I was sure he would not disappoint. Although it was close to 5:00 am when he finally took the stage, true to form he started off with a bang. A parachuter swirled overhead, powerful lights transformed the stage into a cacophony of color while blasts of fog shot down into the crowd from overhead. WOW! Confetti filled the air and when Machel appeared, he didn’t just take the stage, he took it like it owed him money! He caroused the length and breath of the stage singing, dancing, jumping, wining, and whipping the crowd into such a frenzy that I found myself wondering how long could he keep it up? I mean, even Mr. HD himself has limits. This question was soon answered when after around 30 minutes he started the rave.

OOOOKKKK.

To be clear, I love the song “What is Love” (with accompanying head bob) popularized by the Saturday Night Live sketch but there is a time and place for everything. While I appreciate Machel trying new things and bringing new flavors to his music, it was clear that much of the crowd was unresponsive to the tune. The switch from high energy soca to this caught a lot of folks by surprise, including me. Now I don’t mind the song being used as a transition but after 15 minutes of head-bobbing, I had had enough and decided to leave. It took me another 15 minutes to get to my car and I could still hear “What is love” being played as I drove away. While Machel’s performance was as hot and dynamic as ever to start, the middle bogged down considerably which corroborated what I had been hearing so far this year. I had also heard about his marathon “Antz”closing set and I am not too sorry I missed it.

On the whole, Bacchanal Wednesday was a fine fete. True it was very large and somewhat troublesome to get to (and leave as I heard from my crew that stayed until the end of the fete) but the people that were there were there to party and have a good time and everyone I saw was certainly doing that. The bar was overpriced (as we have come to expect), the chit system archaic but, despite my disappointment with Machel, the entertainment was excellent. The stage was top notch and it definitely contributed in a major way to the prime-time production feel that was prevalent throughout the night.

Enjoy the pics, Break Biche is next……..



Kermit out.