I’d guess most would consider that living in a tourist town is extremely lucky, since the attractions are there on our doorstep all year round- and it’s true, there is much to feel fortunate about- although not smug [I hope!]. But it can be variously annoying, frustrating and tedious too.
The small market town where I live is in an enviable position- between the Uk’s best known national park and the sea- and also boasts many historic features, making it a magnet for visitors, no less for holding regular events like festivals during the summer months.
During such shindigs, streams of traffic pour in, choking up the town and filling the car parks by early in the day- then having to stream back out again, having failed to find spaces. On the other hand, we’re lucky in that we can stroll up the road and be in the midst of whatever is on in a matter of minutes. Sometimes it’s noisy, often it’s messy- with clearing litter an almost full time occupation for those involved in the running.
Husband and I used to be part of a team that ran a music festival in our town, an event now taken over by others, so we know what’s involved in staging one; risk assessments, fire fighting training, stallholder booking, ticket selling, first aid- the list of chores is endless.
Our town has just hosted the annual food festival, a massive undertaking that results in a sea of stalls down through the High Street and on the ‘Quomps’- a green area next to the river and quayside. The event was, as always, hugely popular, with some obvious features like cookery displays and others less so, like sheep shows and a cross-channel row-boat. Like many such festivals this one has been taken over by a huge company, which results in fewer small, independent businesses and much of the food [too much!] is ‘fast food’ orientated.
We wander along for a couple of hours to see if anything’s new and to investigate lunch possibilities- it’s tricky for those like me, whose choice is a bit limited by health issues, since I can’t consume dairy or spicy foods these days and the range of stalls is overwhelmingly dominated by spice and cheese. Another festival a couple of weeks ago in the environs of the town was a ‘cheese and chilli’ one- not a great magnet for me!
We walk past the waiting stream of traffic and to the High Street, which is thronged with visitors, then on down to the Quomps, where most of the action is; a double decker bus remodelled into a bar, curry stall, burgers, the sheep show- no sheep on show- [presumably they’re on lunch break, too], ‘loaded’ fries [loaded with- you’ve guessed it- cheese], belly dancers- belly dancers?.
I manage to find a roasted duck wrap, which is pleasant enough- if expensive, then think I might like an ice cream. A tour of the entire food festival. however, cannot yield one single ice cream stall [and there are quite a few] offering a non-dairy ice cream, which strikes me as extraordinary, given that every supermarket is now able to offer them!
We walk back to the town and home. That’s it until the next festival- and mostly the same stalls again!
For fiction by me, Jane Deans, search for novels: The Conways at Earthsend [an eco-thriller] and The Year of Familiar Strangers [mystery drama]. Visit my website: janedeans.com
Anecdotage 