I’m not following the news during my big adventure. I am vaguely aware that the political situation in the UK is like a clown circus without the funny bits, I am aware that there is always a football match somewhere that’s important… scans mind to try and think of anything else I’ve been aware of… and that’s about it really.
And it is a marvellous wonderful thing to be free from national media horror stories and opinions. I don’t have to get stressed about things that are happening in places I know nothing about, and tragedies that I can do nothing about anyway. I know it sounds selfish, but there is nothing like a break from all media (TV, newspapers, radio, etc), to roll away a whole layer of stress from life. Imagine not hearing the word ‘Brexit’ for a whole day. Now imagine it for two weeks. Yes that’s how good it is.
I’ve not sealed myself away from everything, but my interactions are with people, actual real people, people who have stories, opinions, people who love life, who grumble occasionally, who will smile and nod at a stranger, people – normal folk who are interesting, fascinating and amazing in ways that will never make the news.
I was thinking about music today on my walk from Torrington to Bideford and Barnstable (along the Tarka Trail). I love music and how it can alter your state of mind, pull up memories, make you want to dance, elevate you, depress you – it’s quite an amazing thing. I enjoy a good concert and listening to music, interacting passively if you like.
But there is something, some sprinkling of magic that no amount of fame and glory and studio production and expensive hi-fi system can recreate, and that is the magic of spontaneous live music. I went to a session in the Royal Exchange pub in Torrington last night – there was all different kinds of music played by people with different levels of musical ability, and as the night wore on it gelled together to turn into one of those scenes in a pub where everyone is singing and clapping, the sort of scene that Hollywood might recreate in a film if it saw ‘typical English music pub’ written in a script.
I’ve filmed a few things last night. I was sat next to John Golightly, a wonderful box player. I asked him if he’d play me a couple of tunes, so we went into the relative quietness of the beer garden where one of those magic moments happened. Listen to these tunes:
1: ROLLO’S WALTZ:
My name’s John Golightly and I wrote this tune in memory of my grandson Rollo who sadly succumbed to cot death about 4-5 years ago and this tune is in his memory.
2: JOSEFIN’S WALTZ:
this tune was written by Roger Tallroth for his niece on the occasion of her christening, and it’s called Josefin’s waltz. It’s a lovely happy loving tune. A nice antidote to the last one.
We came back in to the session which was turning up a notch, here’s a clip of Ian and Mark playing Ring of Fire:
And here’s the rollicking final song in which Ian and John had the whole pub pirating along. I’ve included the whole song, cos I want to learn the words.
hmmm it’s not uploading… blimmin’ internet.
And lastly, but by no means least, thanks to Janet’s brother, John and his wonderful wife Anne for being such generous hosts, looking after me, picking me up, and feeding me. They even washed my smelly clothes, so I smell sweet again.
New Boots And Panties And A Fiddle 