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Hello, a merry summertime to one and all and
I'm feelin' hot, hot, hot. Well, nearly as hot as those lads (so I'm told) who went into
the sea the other Wednesday night at around 12 midnight skinny dipping off the east end
slip way down near the Mo. |
After an evening's ale supping at a local hostelry, they
decided to take to the heavy swell at high tide. Don't know what they'd had, but it
weren't chicken dippers that's for sure. I thought for just a brief second that the Cost a
Del Sol had come to Sheringham, but more about that night later.
So here we are at this the 20th hear' say column. There's been that much going on lately
that I scarcely dare to put it all down in case I start a paper shortage. So I thought I'd
start with a few observations and see where we go from there. Well, it seems that in the
last issue (No 19) I was a tad hasty in saying that another hole had appeared in the
avenue etc etc. Well at the time of writing there was, but it was only there for a week
this time so well done. You see "Norfolk time" doesn't have to take forever.
Unless of course you're waiting for some of our, and dare I say it, better known firms of
builders, plumbers, etc, to come back and finish the job they started 5 months ago and
more. Also since I last wrote it has emerged that the reason Common Lane was not
resurfaced is to do with the fact that the road itself needs to be reinforced and this is
due to be done in a couple or so years from now. (Don't hold your breath) I guess the only
way we'll get it done quicker is if we can somehow arrange a royal visit to the water
works or perhaps the million and one dog biting adders on the common or something like
that. I swear the Royal Highness' believe that the most of the "common world"
smells of fresh paint and posies!
Talking of which. I was in the street the other day, when I witnessed the Sheringham in
Bloom judge's car doing their rounds. Clearly this lovely old banger (didn't we have
anything a bit newer?) was on official business as it had in big letters' judges car', or
something like that printed in the window. Presumably so that they wouldn't get lost after
their little walk about and get into the wrong car by accident. Mind you we, the general
public had no real need for the car to be marked at all as the antics that preceded it
was, in my mind, somewhat reminiscent of a Carry on Movie. Yes as the official car pulled
up outside Crowes, with judges well equipped with clipboards and straw boaters. We espy an
ensuing traffic jam caused by a stationary car that was stopped hastily outside the Little
Theatre entrance, and causing traffic to build up from the town clock. This was a
deliberate ploy for time with delaying tactics as little men hopped out at the clock and
scurried around the bin hurriedly shoving every little morsel and scrap of paper into it.
Compressing it down with some wellie for good measure. I bet the bin men loved that one
when cleaning out time came! But what a slick manoeuvre me thinks. What dedication and
ingenuity, not that anyone could mistake that particular car for it was reminiscent of
something that was straight off a Miss Marple novel. I only hope that the judges didn't
think we all belonged to that era and train of thought.Although it may have been as well,
as some of the behaviour witnessed recently down the sea front end during and after an
open air Wednesday band night, is very much a "now thing". With reflection it
was just as well that the judges did not see any of the aftermath that littered the
pavements, road, car park and surrounding area. By 12 midnight the entire area was adorned
with a feast of sparkling glory. No, not diamonds or anything as precious as that, but a
collage of every hue in broken glass. Of course I know it's not within the realms of
possibility that this could have been caused by a few very clumsy Cinderella's given the
late hour, who had to dash off to another party before their new boyfriends turned back
into a few prized vegetables. However, I fear the only ones that might end up wearing
these glass slippers inadvertently could be small children and animals in their excited
quest to get to the beach in a hurry.
Still not to worry too much, our ever trusted Bobbies on the beat or on this occasion in
their cosy panda were reassuringly around in the High Street and good on them. |
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| Look at me digressing from the Blooming town, well it is
at the moment! With full and cascading flower standards, and even a plastic pot or three
on the roundabout, everyone has been very busy, one could even say that it's been as
colourful as Lifeboat Plain mid way through a troupe of dancing Morris folk. The town was
awash with colourful characters and traffic cones! Even, and can you believe it? On the
DOUBLE YELLOW LINES all the way down Station Road. WHY? It's a one way street for heaven's
sake, any unauthorised parking down there and we'd have Sheringham in Bloom judges day all
over again. Yes you've guessed it, on the day where there wasn't a legitimate parking
place in sight down High Street, several people spotted not only one but TWO yes TWO!
Traffic wardens perusing the proceedings at the town clock. TYPICAL OR WHAT? On a normal
Saturday, one can't even get a lad on a skateboard through the narrow gap at the north end
of the High Street due to the "I've got an enormous 4x4 and will park it where the
hell I please just for hell of it" brigade. On those days there isn't a warden to be
seen for twenty miles. Strange that. Almost as strange as those people, lovely as they
are, known as the potty folk dancers. These folk bring colour and life to the town and
swell the town's business coffers with much needed fiscal gain. But wonder as I do about
these particular individuals who adorn themselves with soot and shove a pheasant feather
in their hats to leap about with bells on cycle clips to the rhythmic beat of a bongo. All
in the name of ancient rites and fertility dance. It obviously works doesn't it because
this year there was more of them than ever. My only hope is that next year the powers that
be close off the High Street properly and pedestrianize the whole road for the day so as
not to cause any more undue confusion and frustration as some poor drivers attempted to
squeeze their way through the swelling crowds. Any way I've run out of space again, next
time we meet the Carnival will be all but a memory. So don't forget to have a go. You
never know you might even see me there yourselves. Have a good one till next time we meet.
Yours Vic. |
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