" title="the map village street editors"> the map village street editors

I had high hopes of Lismore’s lantern parade, a winter solstice celebration of light and paper art which this year included an untimely guest: rain, and lots of it. Arriving early, I was happy to don my raincoat and explore this stout blue-collar town, usually outshined by its arty neighbours. The Mecca Café, an ironically named American-style diner, proclaimed, in un-American style, ‘life’s too short for bad coffee’. I savoured my strong flat white while watching a banjo band, complete with snare drum and brushes, turn the wet street into a knee-slapping good time. The street entertainers soldiered on through the drizzle. PJ the knife juggler elicited a raucous response from the crowd, culminating in his whip trick where he decapitated a stuffed koala which had been holding a cigarette, ostensibly the target. Round the corner I found The Chocolate Bar, whose couverture fineries included iconic regional flavours like Bundaberg rum, Queensland pineapples and local staples, macadamia nuts and honey. The rain and irony continued as I sheltered in Noah’s Arc (yes, really), one of those quaint bookstores that sucks you into a time warp and spits you out, much later, with a dazed look and an armful of goodies. Proper coffee, real chocolate, quirky bookstore… Lismore is shaping up well. When the parade rolled around, I was all arms and dropped raincoats as I wrestled with my tripod and tried to keep my camera dry. The family next to me proffered a spare umbrella. The brolly had great karma. Mid-parade, a lovely boy with an indistinguishable European accent came running to share my little patch of dry. The fiery spectacle was touchable and defied the drizzle. Little gumboots dangled from shoulders, pointing at the glowing stream of animals. A winged horse lead a leggy goanna, floral elephant, countless dragons, an owl, a pussycat… and fittingly, a flotilla of rowboats. I’ll be back next year (with my own umbrella).