Ah well the evenings are drawing out it will soon be ice cream time

Looks like rain on our parade.

This week The Gazette leads with a rather alarming story that after eighty odd years we may have seen th last of Barnstaple's carnvival. Apparently, the carnival committee have a hole in their finances which amounts to the grand sum of £3,500 pounds. If this hole is not plugged then it could be farewell to the traditional farewell to meat parade. Even if the parade is able to go ahead then because of such dire financial constraints there aren't going to be any fireworks! A great shame as in recent years this has been my favourite bit. I must say though that £3,500 pounds is a lot of money to most people in Barnstaple myself included however it does not seem that much money in the great scheme of things. Conversely, in this area there an awful lot of people for whom this amount represents loose change i.e. second home owners, affluent pensioners, downsizers  and commuters; not to mention the cadre of local boosters who always like to see their name in the paper. Perhaps, they could be persuaded to part with some of their booty and cough up a few quid to support a local jamboree. I have to admit though that I do find the event rather naff and on occasions slightly distasteful since there was until recently a propensity for people to black up and floats often had a rather xenophobic politically naive theme.  I suppose though this is all part of it's charm and in a cultural and historical context this is the very nature of carnival as in the past it represented a form of licensed release, a subversion of the normal social mores of the day. I suppose this has been carried on in the form of a humourous take on the war in Iraq, a bunch of blokes dressed up as comic strip Arabs, blacked up seventies disco dancers and assorted bloated hairy blokes in stockings and suspenders. I also remember it being a little bit more anarchic than it is today with coins being thrown, jeering and buckets of water being chucked out of windows as the parade passed by. Plus, there wasn't a majorette in sight! I vividly remember one year seeing a dog driving a Ford Escort down Boutport Street which never ceased to amaze me right up until a few years ago when I was made aware of cars that had dual controls.
Also, it does seem to raise a lot of money for charity so if anyone should have a vested interest in preserving the event then it should be those local charities who benefit generously from it. The hospices, whose turn over must represent a significant proportion of local  GDP, could become a bit more proactive in its fundraising and put some cash up to save the day. As, not meaning to sound too harsh they do receive an awful lot of goodwill from local people and we are all proud of their achievements. It can't always be one way traffic in such instances. They would be bound to benefit financially especially if it meant maintaining a valuable source of income.
SAVE THE CARNIVAL!.......OH AND WHILE WE'RE AT IT SAVE THE HELICOPTERS AGAIN!
I hasten to add that the Journal made no mention of the above storyso perhaps the Gazette was stirring up a storm in a teacup as, even though I'm skint, £3,500 does seem to be a piffling amount of money.

Get over it Grandad

The punk generation are now, with a little bit of a push and shove, Grandads. Looking at posts on other sites we are now a bunch of dinosaurs. I always hated the hippy gits and proudly wore a bastardised version of the "I hate Pink Floyd" t-shirt. I didn't pop up to London to buy it. I went to the Blue Gallery and bought the necessary paint. I also sported at the time a leather jacket and a trilby hat which one mad Clash fan Mr S.B. described as being a disgrace to my leather. Mr B so I hear is now running a bar on the costas, apparently having done with smacking blokes about the head. I spy his brother A.B. around the town from time to time. They are both at the end of the day good blokes. I am fortunate due to having attended a comprehensive school and by virtue of being the little weasily creep, to be able to call upon these fellas as friends. A diversive way of saying that subsequently, I have never been beaten up in the town no matter what I wear or, in my drunken days, say. I am fortunately friends with hard blokes.
I digress. The original point being that old punks are now considered  a bunch of old gits who harp on about back in the day. The day to me being about the same time as the Queen's silver jubilee. To my rather warped mind sticking two fingers up about the whole thing and annoying your granny was what it was all about. Oh yeah we did have a street party in Fort Street which went un-interrupted by smack addicts as will probably happen this time around. 2011 being the diamond.
Toyah sings at Queens Hall, zonco! That is how new wave per-se has become the mainstream. If Toyah had played down here in 1979 she would have been able to fill the Queens Theatre even shit bands could sell out the John Gay rooms. However from what I seem to remember North Devon District Council decided in their great wisdom to re-launch themselves as a pedastel for mediocraty after the orchestra pit collapsed during a Squeeze gig in 1979. Consequently, North Devon C. C and it's quango
North Devon Theatres have decided to play it safe. This is something I will address later. Sufficient to say punk and it's ethos is something that stays with you all your life.  It is not a bunch of emo kids skulking down from the College. It is political theory. It was never about going up to Caterpillar in Exeter and buying the new Ruts album. Then seeing the great Malcolm Owen trashing himself  a night before he appeared on TOTPs down by the Quay.
After this rather A level missive I can only add that I may actually go and see Toyah belitng her heart out to some quasi Rocky Horror Show montrosity. No thanks I think that I'll concentrate on the Pilton Panto. Before that I am going to petition the bloody theatres to put on gigs with bands that appeal to the younger, trendy, blow ins or blow back set An example: if you put on a band like James or even try as hard as possible you could get Coldplay they would sell out in minutes. Us rather young grandads require it. How many more years  does our local entertainment consist of Toyah Wilcox in a rather bad show based on the Great Jim Steinman's brother's fleeting idea to cash in on his siblings success or some old crap that year in year out is a banker for the elder members of our community. Yes keep the meagre quids coming in with
the Bournemouth Sinfonieta and Brian Poole and the Tremeloes Silver Sixties Roadshow etc and some big name or rather not so big name comedian, just perhaps past it. Infact, I am getting a little bit wound up about this so much so that I may have to present myself at the Box Office and demand some answers.

The Colonel comes to town...... Emburgerfication

 Keep it local ... if you must

Walking up Barnstaple High Street on a Sunday afternoon with my mate Charles Street looking for a good value Sunday roast, or appetites pricked a bitterly cold trudge through the sludge. We were tossing up the pros and cons of trying a roastie at the all new White Horse in Boutport Street(Glad to see that it has reverted to it's original name), the carvery at the Fortescue or just settle for the tried and tested option of the Weatherspoons Sunday club £6.99 value roast. I was rather peeved to have my ollafactory senses assailed by an all too familiar smell, not at all familiar to Barum but very familiar from my time in exile in South East London that is the unmistakable claggy stench of KFC. The Colonel has come to town and has drawn his tank right up smack bang in the middle of the High Street. Now, I have nothing against a KFC from time to time but I wonder whether when any planning permission was sought the smell was factored in. It really is all pervasive. Depending on your mood or culinary prevalence it could be considered to be either enticingly delicious or conversely a rotten nauseating reek. In my mind an argument could be made for it being a form of environmental pollution. Yesterday afternoon the stink could be smelt right from Mermaid Cross in one direction all the way up to the Market in the other. Also as I pass by I don't particularly like to suffer the sight of a bunch of the Town's more bovine citizens chugging down bargain buckets and nuggets. This is an eyesore and is hard to tolerate. I haven't mentioned the health concerns the first time I passed it was about 10 'o' clock in the morning and the place was full of people gobbling down fried food. I noticed that many of the patrons were already erring on the side of obesity.
KFC is only one of a rash of fast food joints that have opened in the area over the last few years. Recently, Burger King has opened at Let's Go Bowling on  our own mini U.S. style mini strip mall over at Pottington and Subway has also been a relatively new addition. I have to add that in my travels all over the world Barum appears to be the only place I have been where people actually seem to like a Subway! Again it has it's own signature doughy pong. The two McDonalds drive thrus up on the outskirts and the Wimpy restaurant up at Roundswell have been doing a roaring trade as has the established albeit relocated Wimpy in the High Street.
A few years back before all of these developments I often remarked that Barum was a town ripe for emburgerfication  as a town full of pasty munchers and given the success of our own homegrown fast food joints Mr M's and Fernando's Hideaway and the Barum Takeaway I was surprised that no one had thought of opening up a global brand burger franchise. I appear to have been proved right.
Along with KFC, Caffe Nero or Caffe Nerd as it is known by many, has also opened up to great excitement by many and along with it's neighbour Costa Coffee this represents a far more aspirational brand than the aforementioned burger bar. These two establishments are in turn owned by a venture capital company and a global food and drinks concern. However, this doesn't seem to impact upon the rather smug looking clientele that you spy sitting in the comfy chairs in the prime window seats.  I am convinced that these people reckon they are on the set of Friends or are aspiring to some kind of quasi metropolitan lifestyle rather than sitting in a bland ubiquitous coffee shop in a North devon market town. In my mind give me a decent machine made espresso and mini pasty at Pasty Presto or a fanatstic zesty dark roast at the Boston Tea Party any day. I am also partial to the traditional British style frothy coffee that they serve up in the Market Cafe, the town's sole surviving greasy spoon.

The end of the world is nigh.

When the Taw freezes over. Crossing Barnstaple bridge late yesterday afternoon on a First Bus double decker I cast my eye down river and spied that the river had frozen over all around the bridge beneath me. Looking up river there was even more ice. I doubt that it is thick enough to skate upon as people did back in the 1940's ( I have a photo to prove it) but even I must admit that it is probably a once in a generation sight to behold. I wasn't imagining things as when I returned home there was a news item about it on BBC Spotlight. The Exe has also frozen over down by Exeter Quay trapping a gaggle of swans in the process. I am glad to report that the RSPCA rescued them. The BBC also warned people that skating on frozen rivers and lakes in the area at this present moment in time was probably not a very good idea. Positively hazardous. I don't think falling through the ice into a murky frozen brackish soup would be at the top of my list of things to do at the moment either.

A local news round-up

..... News stories culled from this week's North Devon Journal. It's been snowing and lots of the Journal's readership have given up the idea of going into work and have joined the children of North Devon in playing in it. All very jolly. Many have decided to send in their photos of snow.
There has been a two day strike amoung non-medical staff up at the hospital. They are striking over the pay and conditions that they receive from Sodexho the private contract company that employs them. Amazingly,  at least for the Journal, a conciliatory voice can be heard amid it's pages. It eminates from the John Barum column, about the only consistently good piece of writing to be found week in week out, who seems to lay the blame firmly at the feet of an inept and over payed cadre of hospital managers.
Barnstaple Town maintain their winning ways and beat Dawlish 1-0 in a Devon derby that saw 165 die-hard fans brave the elements to witness it. Subsequently, Town now find themselves positively lower mid table!
I was going to go along myself but I was sure that the game would have fallen foul to the weather, frozen pitch, but obviously it went ahead. Someone ought to maintain their website on match days especially during Winter to keep people up to date with the prospects for playing.
And finally, that bloke piggy wiggies, his dog and his wife are all bumbling along fine in their bucolic Barbrook bubble. So that's heartening news for us all.

Breaking News ...... More Police on the streets

Breakin news breaking news. Five policemen yes, five policemen spied in Barnstaple High Street on a Wednesday afternoon. Oh yes and a dog! This really is an unusual sight I guess as they were unable to get out and about due to adverse weather conditions in their van and squad car the station commander in Barum obviously decided that rather than have them sitting around the station all day larking around on the internet and ponging the place out with Burger King or KFC lunches he'd have them out on the streets. A perfect time to implement a higher police presence on the street in order to address citizens concerns about a recent shoplifting crime spree and a single case of anti-social behaviour. I guess someone has to check up on the chap with the asbo and make sure he is not venturing into town centre off-licences. My guess is that they were really there to do a bit of pro-active policing in an attempt to discourage errant school children from throwing snowballs at each other. You know, as recent media reports have shown, these things can often escalate into full scale gang warfare. Forches v Pilton. It happens. A slushy, sleety, slate grey, wednesday afternoon in January, perfect time to do it. Maximum effect. As usual Devon and Cornwal police go for the complete overkill tactic and relatively swamp the town when there was no one there. Half the shops are closed and even the beggar has shut up shop. Chummy himself is probably tucked away in his Pulchrass Street fleapit off in some narcotic reverie and contenting himself with a furtive foray or two to Summerland Street Stores until the weather improves and the usual throng of shoppers provide him with cover for his nefarious deeds.
So the Police content themselves with good naturedly taking on the role of tourist officers and give directions to the post office to a gaggle of elderly Welsh visitors who have been dumped off their bus on the square and have doddered up the High Street eagerly expecting the delights of Banburys, only to find it closed. So after a quick slip and slide around the town, gingerly walking on prosthetic hips they repair to the warmth of The Fortescue coffee shop for a pot of tea and an after eight mint.

Addendum

I am not anti holiday cottages or holidaymakers, here after referred to as grockles. Neither am I agin all downsizers, work- life balancers, second home owners, commuters and retirees, here after referred to as blow ins. Honestly though it may be difficult to portray these types in a positive light I will endeavour to try my hardest. However at the moment I am feeling rather calm and relaxed sitting snuggly in my front room looking out over a frozen but clear and crisp Taw estuary. Barnstaple in a frosty haze under clear skies. Oh silver town upon the Taw.

Google search

A quick Google search under farm North Devon bought up several links for farm holidays and farm cottages to rent before any link to farming in North devon. This has provided a handy indication as to what this blog is all about. A look at Barnstaple and North Devon that goes beyond the image of holiday cottages, rustic idylls, otters and surfers. It will hope to take a look at issues which effect the everyday lives of North Devonions from what I must add is my own highly subjective viewpoint and rather prejudiced and cynical eye. However all comments and debate actively encouraged from anybody where ever you may be. I will also be happy to provide an insiders guide to North Devon and in all good faith answer any queries readers may have regarding life in North Devon.