Return of the non-existent Swallows Festival
We Orange Countians are stereotyped to be a lot of things: extremely good looking, extremely rich, and extremely materialistic, to name the standard few. Contrary to popular belief (thanks a lot, Bravo) we’re actually Mexican-Catholic swallow-happy rancheros. Exhibit A. The Return of the Swallows Festival in downtown San Juan Capistrano.
After hearing murmers that the Return of the Swallows Fest is actually a western-wear extravaganza, Lauren and I did our best to suit up appropriately. We also heard that in true fest form, booze runs through the blood of most of-age attendees, so we obviously arrived at the train station armed with mimosa fixins. We weren’t alone in either effort; the train was teeming with flannel, leather and alcoholic beverages. Why we had not been to this festival (or even really heard about it, for that matter) before is beyond me.
A short ride later, we arrived at the doorstep of the festival. For those of you that have never been, the downtown area of San Juan Capistrano is charming, quaint and truly has an air of history. The main reason for this is of course, Mission San Juan Capistrano, the “Jewel of the California missions”. It was here that the swallows started nestling into the exposed eaves and the whole freaking reason we were there in the first place. We arrived shortly after the parade had started and though there were plenty of people lining the streets, it seemed the only animals in sight were tailed and four-legged.
On the train ride down, I asked Lauren if she thought we’d see a swallow. She promptly balked, and in so many words, said yes, you dope, they instinctively flock to San Juan Cap. Sadly, though, the contrary reports I had heard were correct. There were kids dressed up as swallows, cardboard swallows on sticks, plastic swallows nests, swallows carved onto beer taps, swallows screen printed onto shirts – even a bar named after these suckers and NOT ONE bothered to show up at the party. Jerks.
Though we were sadly not graced with the presence of the illusive jerk-bird, we saw quite the myriad of animals in the day. The parade, being the largest non-motorized parade in the U.S. (yet another claim to fame OC! Take that, housewives!), had to be schlepped around by all sorts of different ‘vehicles’- so basically, horses were stuck with the dirty work. There were little-baby-mini horses, horses with majestic manes of fancy, side-stepping/prancing horses and of of course, the beer-loving Clydesdale. The parade was, for the most part, a wonderful opportunity to show off the many talented folks residing in south county- they’ve got baton twirlers, rancheros, mariachi bands, cheerleaders, period dressers, you name it.
After tiring of the parade, we headed over to the Mercado, which was touted as “the place to be after the parade”. The mercado was what we’d like to call the festi-fixture, a conglomeration of booths selling you something, whether it be BBQ tri-tip, beer, corn on the cob, giant bratwurst, Kettle corn, or handicrafts (A.K.A. crap). This area was alright- what it lacked in shade and seating, it made up for with food options and drunk people. The beer garden section was chock full of loud, western-wear clad drunkies, all of which seemed completely unaware that they were celebrating a birds arduous voyage.
While at the mercado, we sucked down a couple Capistrano Brewing Co. drafts (Amber for Lauren, Honey for me), Lauren got a tri-tip sandwich, and I played with a search-and-rescue bloodhound. It was a good time being around all that festiveness, but it was a little bit of a been-there, done-that feeling. The Swallows Inn, the dive bar kitty corner to the beer garden, seemed to be the real place to be- the line to get in was monstrous, the patio was jammed, and the music poured outta that place like wine. Had we the energy of our 22-year old selves, we would have made a beeline to the liquor store, picked up a few 40′s and posted up in that line, but being the 25-year old sloths that we are, we decided to go on a taco hunt and call it a day.
Overall, the Return of the Swallows Festival was a great gathering. The parade was full of fun things to watch with historical tidbits, and the stunning backdrop of the mission alone was worth the trip. Orange County isn’t exactly a culturally rich destination, so it’s nice to have events like this to help remind us that even the “charmed” residents of Orange County had more humble beginnings. Even if the swallows never come back to the mission, there’s still a party to be held in there honor. So to that, we raise our glass and give a big yeeeeeeeehaw!
Fest on,
Shayna
Though I have spent my whole life watching the annual Tournament of Roses parade each New Year’s Day and am familiar with the idea of creating parade floats entirely out of flowers, I had never – until recently – heard of the Portland Rose Festival. This year’s historical celebration kicked off May 28th and will run through June 13, with some killer events like Barbeque & Brew, the Spring Rose Show and the festival’s bellwether, the Grand Floral Parade.
