brave creatures audentis fortuna iuvat

Well its early March 2001 and James and I are home from Mardi Gras 2001 and a quick holiday in Noosa afterwards. This will be my 15th consecutive Mardi Gras having attended my first one in 1987 at the tender age of 18. Although I have attended ever party since then and seen a few of the parades, I have only marched twice. Once in 1987 and again this year.

The difference that those intervening years have made to both me and the social conditions in Australia are, to me at least, very marked. I remember quite clearly how nervous we all were in '87. AIDS had really started to make its presence known in this country and the tide of public opinion and bigotry was turning against the gay and lesbian community. The Festival of Light (right wing, religions, conservative political organisation) had gained a strong voice in government and things were looking grim.

I had travelled on a bus from Brisbane to Sydney to march in the parade as a member of the Sisters of Perpetual Indulgence (Sr Jacquline Hyde at your service) and marched through the rain from St Stephen's Cathedral to the RAS show grounds (now Fox Studios). I spent the first quarter of the parade hunched over in the back of the float trying to rewire the electric's and get the thing running while the rain pored down on us. The only thing worst than a wet wimple is one that is slightly singed from small electrical fires.

The Order of Perpetual Indulgence (OPI) in Australia is somewhat different from the American chapter of the order. In the US it is much more a street theatre group with some minor aspirations to political statement. In Australia it is a lot more political. You would be astounded how much effect a bit of light hearted mockery can have, both on political detractors and on those who are working to effect change.

Membership of the OPI was a passing stage in my life, but one that has left me with a hearty respect for difference. The nuns are a group of loving, considerate, generous men (and later women became brothers) who were tired of the whole political agenda thing being so damned serious and believed that there is a place for the light hearted in social change. There are worst philosophies in life.

Fifteen years later I marched in my second parade, this time with my beloved partner James. Strangely enough again with a quasi religious theme and, yes, again in drag. This time a little more polished and with the danger of electrocution.

James and my friend Ken (aka Nurse Webb) talked us into joining his group protesting for the recognition of same sex couples. This is the hot queer political issue here in AU at the moment given that, Tasmania not withstanding, we have just about everything else covered. Its a pretty worth cause and one close to my heart given that I am pretty clear that my relationship with J is as valid as a 'traditional' relationship.

The other attractive part of this parade group is that we got to dress up in drag as brides and run around being very silly. Its amazing how the gay mind can move from serious political protest to 'what am I going to wear - oooh how about a dress' with almost no decernable effort.

So the parade was tremendous and we had a BLAST - although running 5 km in high heels can be a bit of a challenge, especially for J who was only recently out of hospital having had the plate taken out of his leg. The other people for whom it was a challenge were the guests and staff of the Westin in Sydney where we were staying. We passed through the lobby twice fully frocked to around of applause on the way out if I recall correctly.

Everyone was very sweet if a little startled apart from a gentleman in the lift who looked like he wanted to make a fuss. Two 230lb Drag Queens with 2" acrylic nails is not something that many people are prepared to take on, especially once we struck up a conversation with him. Its kind of hard to come out swinging when someone is asking you where you got that short.

The Westin were also delighted to see us walk out again 90 minutes later, dressed as boys in itsy bitsy shorts and black knee boots.

The party was wonderful and we spent most of the evening wandering around and talking to an ocean of old friend a new acquaintances. The shows we saw were good and the music was fab. All in all a good night.

Nurse Webb gets in on for the Sydney Morning Heralds photographers and does Mrs Sloacum of "Are you being served?" fame proud. Nice nails by the way Ken!!

Charlie's Angels eat your hearts out, although I think this was the moment that my G-string snapped - what is that expression about???

A little sit down before heading off for the big event. Please note the duck directly above James head. That was actually part of his veil piece.

Miss Mona Lovezitt in all of here glory. Nice boots huh?

Miss Mona and Scott - an old mate who was also in the parade. This 6'5" hunk also is one of the nicest, smartest guys I have ever met. He is a sweetie and last time I checked - available. Form a queue - no pushing!

The radiant Brides of Mardi Gras - the entire group at the end of the parade.

After Mardi Gras we went to Noosa for a week to recover and wind down. Sleeping in and sunshine was just what the doctor ordered. Literally. KEn Webb came with us and we stayed at the French Quarter Resort which was really nice. There is an official recovery weekend in Noosa each year run by Beyoud the Blue Travel and it was hosted at the Noosa Blue resort.

James gets some sun at A Bay (Alexandra Bay) which is the big 'clothing' optional beach near to Noosa.

On the way back from Noosa we stopped into Brisbane (about 90 minutes drive). This is the artifical beach on the old Expo '88 site near the river. Quite nice in a constructed, Disney sort of way. I grew up in Brisbane so I really enjoyed showing James and Ken around.