If life were a bowl of cherries...

The first thing I must say, is that much as I enjoy travelling by train (freedom to move and stretch etc...) the pleasure is more than somewhat marred by two somewhat unnerved family members, one of whome is highly aggitated. It was after such a journey that I arrive in Sidmouth and have to carry a rather heavy backpack up the hill to the campsite telling my younger sister fairae stories until she is scared and asks me to stop. (Yes, maybe my patience had worn a little thin, but it was only a standard seelie/unseelie adapted folk tale!). Pitching camp in the dark heralds two rather arduous days of not doing much until the festival kicks in properly. And here comes the real news...

First on the list is the Anchor Garden's Celidh. And the first dance is a variation of a Circassian Circle and here I met Peter-Paul and Manon (although I don't think my failure to spin out correctly after year without dancing impressed them :P). I also renewed friendship with Bob and Steve (Towersey folkies) and generally found my feet (both left ones on occasion). A note for anyone attending next year, bring outdoor dancable shoes... gravel is painful in bare feet and I will pay anyone large sums of money if they manage to dance the willow tree sucessfully in flipflops!! 

Chadwicks. and Jen arrive making the total in our camp 11 and the total number of people at the first concert 13 (Fiona and Joy)... Fiona proved a highly useful addition to the party, for along with all her natural charms and the delight of her company, her disabled status allowed us some truly spectacular seats for both Show of Hands and the Spooky Men's Chorale. If you have not heard either of these groups, do so. They have the remarkable capability of making me wish I were male simply so I could be part of

1. the gritty and powerful sound of Show of Hands - female voices can do a lot, but that variety of sound and gravel is beyond even th strongest female singer
2. t testosterone drenched genial bufoonary - (I hope I quote correctly) - of The Spooky Men, who had me laughing so much I couldn't speak later on!

The week went on and more people turned up... old partners and a few new partners formed a nice group of "people I can bump into and say hello to..." Ran into Peter-Paul and Manon again at an LNE... was not recognised much to my amusement and apparently his embarassment... until Emma turned up and introduced me properly {yes w*are*sisters). Also met Brendan (dragged up to dance with me by one of the Hammersmith Morris Men who I had been chatting to but had hurt his leg). And of course there is Tom, who never ceased to make me laugh, and whome I first saw at the lunchtime Mawkin concert although I doubt he will remember that. (I have a strange memory sometimes). 

In general my days consisted of dancing a collection of English, Contra and Ceilidh (no scottish :( )... and anyone with any idea how I ended up in the display sets for Enlish dancing, please enlighten me! :S It was very scary being surround by lots of disparaging hawks who seemed certain I was incompetant... When they realised I wasn't they tended to assume I was professional which was a little entertaining. The week started well with my presence being noted at both the 9:30 workshops and the 1am Late Night Extras and I never wanted for partners. I believe my record to be 5 dance partners lined up which was very confusing when I had to remember who I'd agreed to dance with next.

The breakfast workshop was started midweek at Steve's tent... and put an end to all early morning activity for me - replacing exercise with good conversation, bacon, tomatoes and very fine coffee. I have to confess I became a regular, and intend to remain one. 

Time passes, and feet become steadily sorer... Tom leaves us for the petie world of work (poor man) and a delightful afternoon is spent shopping for drinks and a black tie for Steve to wear to the BlackTie Ceilidh - there is always one, and in this case I feel my sister beat him with her rather interesting combination:

• halter-neck black dress
• black bow tie
• fancy shoes
• black and white stripy socks
• blue cumberbund
  

The French dance was a source of great amusement as I struggled (and in the end managed to a degree) to learn French dancing off the hoof so to speak. Apologies to Edward, Peter-Paul and Jen for all the times I stood on your feet. :( I promise I will practise before the next dance! I will have to add here that I have a new love for French dance... it is beautiful. :D Especially when we end up dancing around the Ham concert marquee to Le Bébert Orchestra. :D

 And if anyone can dance and wants to come as a partner to the next dance in Norwich I would be more than enternally grateful! 

I can think of little to note for the rest of the week except for exciting cream tea workshops, envigorating swims, enjoyable dinners (with amusing waitress service) and enthralling conversations as well as copious quantities of dance. Morris Men with Fire... scary and very pretty :D My sister made friends with the Spooky Man... stole his hat and in return he stole my Bacon bap :(. Most parties went on till 4 or 5 am so there wasn't really a dull moment for the entire week. And thanks to Justin and Joe for their continuous supply of lemonade and good conversation - Renaissance music, science and computers, good food, good drink....

And needless to say I managed to sleep in the car on the way home.

Although I did end up in London the next day to meet up once again with Peter-Paul, Manon and Edward... the wisdom of this can be discussed seperately and at a later date.

Here endeth the Sidmouth post. And leaves me just to say, "It was a great holiday, thanks to you all and I hope you all feel the same, I shall see some of you at IVFDF, the rest of you next summer and hopefully, some of you before then... Take care, look after your feet and remember, it isn't a Celidh until someone has shouted "NO! THE OTHER LEFT!" "

Love to you all

xXx