Sixth October Blog. – 14-10-14
A Written Journey.
Here, I am going to skip through a journey both in time and space. No, not Outer Space, but space across this globe we live on. Where do I start? I will start with the shores of Great Britain, more pointedly, England, because I know just a litle bit more about my country than I do other countries – though some shall be named later.
My tale starts with short stories that I have written. Not about specific places, but about places in general. Two stories are about Country Fayers/Fairs/Fetes. Now these are imaginative stories about ficticious people and imagined places. However, these are common occurrences here in the British Isles. I may have left out details whereby, some towns, villages etc. will have slightly different rules and regulations from the others. But most and generally, in essence, they are extremely similar. Most will have shows ( in the more country areas ) where local animals, i.e. Cattle, Sheep, Pigs and the like, are judged for reasons like the Best in the Area, most like others of their breed.
Some will have dog shows. Some even have cat shows, pigeons, hens. There are often places to eat hot food, small sideshows for people to spend money, often to help local charities. But the one thing most Fayers/Fetes etc. do have in common are shows where locals exhibit vegetables and fruit they have grown throughout the year. Not to be outdone, mostly entries by ladies, are the judging of cakes, home made of course, with jams, pies and the like. Often there are Craft exhibits. All of these latter are judged and awarded prizes.
As you can tell, I have been to a few, and I live in town. Some are larger and have maybe displays by motorcycle police or military motorcycle displays. Some go under the guise of Summer Carnivals. Same difference really. Though some have a load of vehicals, local brass bands, military too trundling down a specific route at a specified time all leading the people to the show ground and all the fun of the fair. I have in the past seen some wonderfull shire horses, Pipe Bands, Carnival Queen floats. One time my mum’s neighbour was a Dowager Carnival Queen. All to cheer eveyone up during the summer months. It is an outing for children and families alike. A good time is usually had by all. My two stories hopefully show this side of the British Nation.
Then there are the seaside holidays. I have not gone much into stories in this vein. No particulare reason why, because there is a wealth of material here. Especially from way back. Like having ice-cream cones on the beach with gritty sand beneath the feet. Or some beaches where there are pebbles, not sand, and that is very uncomfortable for the feet. Fish and chips, a seaside delicacy, you can smell the vinegar all along the Prom (Promenade) and you have to bat away the seagulls that will peck them from your hand, or your paper cone, given half a chance.
Then, it is often rainy at the seaside. Yes, there can be sunshine, but most of my holidays back when, I remember more rain, wind, sand blown in your face, holding a dress down that blows up around your bum. Memories of a bygone year, maybe? Lots of dinghys bobbing away because the sea is seldom peaceful at the English coast, some coasts rougher than others. Candy Floss and Seaside Rock with the Town’s name running right through the stick of peppermint rock. Of course, that was coloured a bright pink. There was also yellow pineapple flavoured rock, or green or multicoloured.
When I went for a day trip with mum and dad when young, the very first thing I wanted was a Rossi ice-cream. You could not get them where I lived. What a delight, licking that delicious ice-cream, slowly relishing its softness and its taste. Those were the days, my friends. Then, from a bygone era, saucy postcards with inuendos printed below the picture which was almost always a drawing, not a photograph.
Happy Days on a Seaside Holiday in digs or a caravan.
Another time, I shall broaden my horizons.
Take care people, be good to one another.