It is 6:45am Wednesday 31 January 2024: the tail of the galley has just fallen into the dying flames to become embers, then ash; the head fell first, then the mast; now the end. The flair of Up Helly Aa 24 terminated just as the fiery sun rose above the thirty metre high eucalyptus trees into a blue sky patched with the bright whiteness of fluffy clouds. It is going to be a hot and humid day after the stormy weather of this week that has caused so much havoc.
The day started two hours ago in the dim gloom of the morning that was stirring with the soft cackle of the kookaburras and the sharp shrieks of the currawongs, all alerted by a streak of breaking orange light that redefined the local hills.
After making a cup of tea, we settled down to watch the live stream knowing that this year’s Up Helly Aa celebration would be just like last year’s, but being happy with this. It was John Ruskin who wrote of his holidays that always followed an identical routine, that they were all the more beautiful for being familiar. The town hall preparations, the preliminary light up, the starting flare, the 1000 flames lit, the snaking flow of fire, the circumambulation, and the grand finale were all well-known, almost commonplace expectations.
Similarly, typical cheers, greetings messages, tales, experiences, wishes, and remembrances full of hope, love, and expectation interspersed the commentary describing the flame-lit shadows of the town, the procession and its smell, naming places and outlining procedures that must befuddle those who don’t know Shetland or Lerwick. The darkness of the town lit by the burning paraffin and wood oozing aromatic fumes, reminds one of past eras without the convenience of electricity that now enlightens us, and allows this remarkable, international live stream to take place.
The parade was watched through the faint reflections of the awakening morning, layered by a soft haze of barely perceptible images glimmering on the glaze of the tablet’s screen, growing brighter throughout the astonishment of the procession that culminated with the fall of the tail.
Now, just before 7:00am Australian Eastern Time, as the halls of Lerwick open, the phone rings: it’s the plumber coming to fix the leaking toilet cistern. Ordinary life takes over with its harsh grind of necessity leaving the magical mystery of fire loitering as an inexplicable, unforgettable spectacle.
Although it remains secular and carefully orchestrated as entertainment holding ambitions for both the maintenance of tradition and the promotion of tourism, the festival embodies elements of the spirit of the past revealed in the same darkness and flames experienced in other times, an essence captured in the new drone images highlighting the flow of flames along the route, terminating in a broch of fire that becomes the mythical hearth - the symbolic heart of Lerwick, and the world, just for one day. It is a memorable occasion. One looks forward to Up Helly Aa 25 both to refresh the recall, and to again experience the power of flames in the unforgiving primeval void that still intrigue the eye and capture the heart.
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