Sidmouth Folk Festival

The backstory: last Friday, around 4, Fiona said "You know, they're still desperate for stewards at Sidmouth". And I thought, hmm, and looked outside at the weather, wondered where I would rather be, and then made the phone call to Stephen. At five I'd sorted a lift, at seven we were round at Fiona's house (playing on the Wii - 178 on my first game of Wii bowling, but I don't want to discuss my performance at Wii boxing), and by nine o'clock we were on our way to Sidmouth courtesy of the fantastic Julia, playing folky tunes all the way down thanks to my little MP3 player => radio gadget.

The rest of Saturday

Rolled in at one in the morning, just in time to miss the last dance, but in very good time to be welcomed into the Hammersmith party tent and given glasses of some fairly potent wine. Didn't really fancy the party, so went to sleep in someone else's tent, only to be woken up at four a.m. by the party breaking up and everyone else coming back to their tents.

I was then woken up by a rather clouded sun at 7:15, so pitched my tent, showered, shaved, and put on my hat - which is what really triggers the holiday mood for me. I had breakfast with Steve Harris, an old ceilidh-dancing friend and reliable provider of home-grown food and delicious meals at most festivals, this time freeloading from him shamelessly (though I did get to grind the coffee), and then headed off to the Spooky Men's Chorale workshop. Where we learnt a rather fun Visigothic marching song in several parts. We all had to imagine ourselves in shaggy clothes marching through the German forests on our way to showing those spaghetti-eating Italian ponces what for, and then we got to march out through the town a little way and then come back. I'm not so sure about its authenticity, but it was very good fun singing it, and it sounded exactly as it should, full of unrestrained aggression.

Strolled along the promenade, where there were massed cheers for the samba band playing in the sea, the back row on tambourines, triangles etc, and the front row on big drums, hovering only a few inches above the water. It was exactly the right setting for ice cream, so I got one and leaned on the harbour railings, cheering the band on.

Lunch: the first pie of the week from the bakery, and then up to the Bulverton, for most of Mawkin's set, including a wonderful waltz that slowly went from gentle and enfolding to vigorous and swinging, making me wish for a partner. Perhaps the lovely Jessica?

And then the stewarding instruction, finding out what we should do if there's a fire (scream, but don't panic, and *don't* use the extinguishers unless you're trained) and what to do with recalcitrant punters (get Shaggy or Jethro, and I'm not joking about the names, though they are entirely appropriate for a folk festival).

Got a second dose of Mawkin at the evening concert at the Ham, but missed the Spooky Men, unfortunately, because I had to rush off to my shift. Which was quite fun! It was a lovely warm night, and I trooped round with Nelly (who knew everyone) and the security guard, telling teenagers to take their bottles of cider outside the fence, dammit! Finding the concealed bottle of cider, emptying it, and then putting the empty bottle back, was particularly amusing.

Sunday

Missed the taiko drumming workshop, which was very annoying as it looked like a great deal of fun! When I saw them on Monday afternoon in the Market Square, it still looked like a lot of fun, very theatrical, with big movements and satisfyingly noisy. If I'd gone there, though, I wouldn't have bumped into the French session happening on the Esplanade, ended up dancing there, and heard about Fluxus (more on them later), and I wouldn't have seen this really good Border Morris side performing, or had a look at some of their wonderful hats. I particularly liked the one with a black panther on it - truly the Ascot of morris dancing. I also got some unexpectedly good contra in, dancing to a serious waltz tune with Rachel, and getting it consistently a little bit wrong. Then some ridiculously complicated manoeuvres ("Orbiting the Juicy", anyone?), and again, a pie!

Saw a bit of the Doina Folk Ensemble doing interesting things with groups of three dancers, then went off to hear Hoover the Dog at the Bedford Hotel, who were wonderful! I particularly remember "Whalebones" and "Reynard's Revenge" - the last being an adaptation of "The Foxhunter's Jig", and also featuring a very realistic-sounding police siren, presumably coming to arrest the hunters!

Dinner, and on to Fluxus, and happy times! Ended up leading an An Dro round the floor, getting in some nice spirals and making sure the people on the edge felt included. Riotous bourrées, scottisches, chapeauoises and jigs followed, then a waltz on a fairly clear floor, and a Circassian Circle, making sure to swap partners in defiance of the instructions to stick to the English version.

Managed to get an indoor steward's post and spent a good deal of time talking to Emma, a rather more interesting 15-year-old than most. Absolutely nothing happened all shift, since I'd picked a door that led to the field at the back of the Bulverton, not the bar.

Monday

Went to a contra workshop (in the end, after waking up at 7:15 again, and walking down into Sidmouth and back to get some croissants, for lack of anything better to do), and found Emma there, with her sister Ruth, and had some very nice dances with both. The good weather of the last few days changed abruptly that morning, with torrential rain coming down for half an hour around eleven, but by the time I came out and headed to Trinculo at the Anchor Gardens. Who were excellent, naturally, and I got in some great dances with Kate (previously featuring at St Chartier), Fee Lock, Freya and some other people whose names I've forgotten, shamefully.

Then headed off to the Manor Pavilion to take in Pete Coe, James Fagan and Nancy Kerr. Pete Coe was an unknown quantity, but was very good, and had everyone singing along to his song about the failure as an institution that the monarchy was, the chorus going: "Rule Britannia / Britannia waives the rules / Kings, Queens, jackanapes and tyrants / Knaves and fools". Then James Kerr and Nancy Fagan, now with added Robert Harbron, announcing themselves as appearing as a trio, "Magpie" for almost the first time. They played an absolutely wonderful set, in particular a beautiful song just written by Nancy about loss and love set in the spring, sung by her as she played a lap-harp, with the other two joining in beautifully on guitar and melodeon. They really did sound very good together, and I'll be keeping an eye out!

Then on to my shift, an early one this time, and Whapweasel in fine form, and me wishing I'd been able to dance with them. It was interesting to wander around with a new security guard and talk to him about his job, and then go off and spend about quarter of an hour in the hut with the parking stewards waiting for a kettle to boil. One of them had been going to Towersey/Sidmouth as a steward for years, and told some pretty incredible stories; the one about the guy who cut through the cable from the generator to the campsite so he could patch in his widescreen telly, surround sound system and Xbox, and charge bored teenagers to play on it, or the bloke who was caught with a grow lab in his trailer....

Eventually, my shift finished, and it was dancing time again! Asha, and had a great time, with a very good guest spot by Berkshire Bedlam, who used good fake swords in their act, making a lovely clashing sound, and making one of the dances up as they went along, Jameson yelling out a move a couple of beats before they all had to do it. Bourree de jeunesse, which, naturally I danced as a row dance with Emma, and a good scottische with Kate to finish the evening.

This was now my last night, and I was determined not to miss out on staying up: fortunately, I had some great company, Justin, Manon, Emma, Ruth and Joe, and we ended up going to bed about four in the morning, with grand plans to go to contra at nine that morning. To give you an idea of the conversation, we moved from automata to cookery to the existence of a morris Karma Sutra inside ten minutes, everyone firing linkages off each other. Joe provided Laphroaig, of which I had a little sip, and it was an interesting experience - sourish and burning a very slow trail down the back of the throat.

Tuesday

The plans for a 9:00 contra foundered on the promise of a fry-up from Steve, which was absolutely delicious, but we did get in to do Dances With A Bounce, a brave attempt to gee up the usual crowd of Playford dancers by a friend of Steve's. It was great fun, though I got an awful lot of it wrong, but lovely dances, and enlivened by the creative use of my hat, which a) went up the set of dancers, to the caller, and round the band b) got used as a prop by me for gallantly saluting ladies as we went round the formations c) got regularly stolen by (and occasionally stolen back from) Emma.

Alas, the dance came to an end, and so did our little group, Manon splitting off first, then the rest of us getting a burger and waiting for my bus, then Emma, Ruth and Steve waved me off, and I settled into getting back to Oxford, with teaching at the Oxford Dance Camp ahead of me that evening.

I was a little apprehensive about this - it's the first time I've ever taught any of the dances to an audience, but it seemed to go off well, the dances almost teaching themselves and the scratch band doing wonders under Jackie. The bourrée and valse écossaise went off particularly well, and Lizzy was wonderful, driving me out from Cowley and dropping me off at the bus stop so I could get the bus into London. Slept all the way in, woke up about a minute before the bus stopped at Baker Street, then went to bed immediately, and as a result was only mildly zonked at work the next day!

All in all, a wonderful weekend, with new friends made, old ones re-encountered, much dancing done - and that I fit easily into my 33" waistband shorts is a real testament to how dancing keeps you fit - and interesting experiences. Not so many photos, though - there were some golden opportunities that I completely missed. I need to get more into the habit of carrying my camera about....