Saturday 29 May 2010

Boutport Street is burning, Boutport Street is burning baby can't you see

Babylon may have been burning but now it's Boutport Street's turn. I read in the Jornal that that eyesore in Boutport Street has finally burnt down For years now it has been covered up by a load of skanky old timber which to my mind was only good for burning. They must have used RGB;s finest off cuts. A few years ago they did try and do something with it by painting a mural that spelled out Barnstaple and used some weird and wonderful lettering. At the time it went some ways to brightening up that corner however over the years the paint peeled, and the mural faded and recently it has looked bloody grotty. Infact, that whole corner is a bleddy disgrace. It's dirty. You'd think that the Post Office would do something about it as their building is right next door and that's also a dingy hole. Of course, some ill planned early seventies architecture doesn't help. Webber's keep up their frontage but the rest of the building on the Boutport Street/ Queens Street corner should be pulled down. Mind you before the recession they were going to do that and build us a mini Cabot's Circus however it all looked good on paper but so far nothing has happened and the area just gets grottier and grottier. I ain't a snob and am probably the last one to comment but there always seems to be a gaggle of Barnstaple more shabbier looking citizens congregating on that corner. At this time of year you get extended families all pushchairs, yowling kids, large ladies with great sunburned mottled arms, lanky bare-chested lads sporting obligatory baseball caps straining to keep some manky devil dog mongrel hound on the leash and stick thin, ivory pale, prematurely wizened looking young women all gathered about passing around a packet of baccy. This everyday scene is usually topped off by the crazy Glaswegian beggar with the bike lying sprawled against the mural directly adjacent to Barclay's cash point. Ah, well it takes all types to make a town.

Celebrity spotting part 3

Brasso. Yesterday afternoon I was going down to Crow Point on me pushbike with the trailer attached to pick up some sand for me raised beds and as I was going through Vellator the famous local DJ Brasso stepped out of one of those houses at the end of South Street. I was quite taken aback as it's not everyday that you see an ex-Radio 1 drive time disc jockey in Braunton. I know in recent years his career has taken a bit of a nosedive the last I heard he'd been sacked from the graveyard shift on Radio Devon but still back in the day he was North Devon's premier purveyor of disco tunes. I remember when he was a boy and humping his wheels of steel about in a van from village hall to village hall and school disco to school disco. Him and Janet Jensen's Silver Dollar Disco Show. He then graduated to Friday nights at Chequers and after a few years of imploring people to rock the boat or do the hustle he became destined for greater things and off he went to national radio and the bright lights of the big big big city. But his time away from North Devon obviously weighed heavy in his heart, I remember going down to a Radio 1 roadshow at Westward Ho!one year  and he clambered on stage and grabbed the mic from Dave Lee Travis he was obviously glad to be back in the area and he got everyone to sing along to Someone left a cake out in the rain by Rose Royce. DLT, the hairy monster wasn't amused and poor old Brasso was bundled off the stage by Smiley Miley and his heavies. I think that may have been the end of his career up there in broadcasting house as the next thing he's on Atlantic FM and then on Radio Devon at 5.00 am on Sunday mornings. I reckon he was in South Street as he's more than likely hosting the new karaoke night in the Mariner's Arms that has been widely advertised. How the mighty fall, still I will always hold him in high esteem for the joy he bought to tens of people on those heady cazy disco nights, tripping the light fantastic down at Chequers in 1978. Happy days.

Should you require the services of the great man please follow the link

http://www.uk-disco.co.uk/org-details.asp?OrgID=982

Friday 28 May 2010

Staycationing.....

                                                                                                                                             Biarritz                                                                                                                     Ilfracombe


Now this is something which is new to me, staycationing. Apparently, instead of going away on a trip you stay at home, at least that what it sounds like to me. Not much fun in that. I was sitting in the Boston Tea Party coffee shop the other morning, I like to go there when I have a bob or two spare and treat meself to a cup of dark roast Colombian coffee takes me back to my days in that neck of the woods when I was kidnapped after jumping ship in Panama, also it makes a change from Camp coffee. Right, I was sitting there minding my own business and indulging in a spot of earwigging and I overheard the women on the next table talking about staycationing, they were banging on about it at quite a volume. Apparently, it was so last year so they had intended this year to go off to some rented hovel on the Costa Verde in Spain, wherever that is. It must be near Santander as you get there on the ferry and don't have to fly it makes eco sense. That is if it weren't for the fact that ferries are one of the worst offenders, plus you take your car which only helps to belch out fumes and clog up the roads over there. Now, I've heard of the Coasta Brava, been there a few times Lloret del Mar, lovely place, and the Costa del Sol but the Costa Verde never heard of it. However, due to volcanic ash and nasty budget airlines and strikes, it has become so this year and all. So this woman and her family decided to cancel their trip and stay at home. Everyone's doing it. Staying at home and making the most of an English summer which to be honest who can blame them but stil itl seems a bit daft to cancel your holiday just to fit in with everyone else. I think she expected everyone within earshot to be impressed. Her friend certainly was, as even though this staycationing was so last year, she went to Crete last year but now Greece is also so last year and now that  staycationing has become so this year again she is also going to be going on a staycation.  According to them Woolacombe is just as nice as Marbella and Ilfracombe is the new Biaritz. Hum don't know about that. I suppose if you put your headphones on and squint you could be mistaken for getting the two mixed up and Barnstaple is like a mini Barcelona. Well I agree with that.
Later that afternoon I was down at Morthoe doing my caravan cleaning job and I happened upon a copy of the Guardian, that London trendy paper, and low and behold in the travel section they had a whole feature on staycationing which even though it was so last year has had a reprise and now it's so this year as well and it went on to echo what the women in the Boston Tea Party were banging on about. Still I wasn't convinced, that is until I went down to Woolacombe to catch the bus back to town and it was packed, full to the brim with visitors. Normally, at this time of year you only get a few disconsolate, lardy chip munching, sullen looking souls who have come down to the Woolacombe Bay on a Sun/NotW week for a fiver deal but there was all sorts down there and a huge amount of people who looked like they should be spending the week on a golfing holiday on the Algarve or taking their family off to a gite in South West France. Middle class families and groups of youngsters who in my day would have been off inter-railing not lolling around outside the Red Barn. So there you have it this must be staycationing made manifest. Me, I'm off with Ivor Thomas and Ian Stokey on a cultural tour of the Baltic capitals taking in Prague at least now it should be quiet. The Squire reckons that this is so nineties.

Thursday 20 May 2010

Celebrity Spotting Part 2


Last week I had a dose of the old farmer's lung so this morning, in order to clear out me ventricles,  I thought I'd take a walk down to Ashford Strand,  to set me night lines,  along the old Ilfracombe railway line. They call it a cycle path these days but I think dog fouling/exercise area would be a more accurate name for it. Anyway, after a bit of mudlarking I decided I wouldn't walk back as I was still feeling a bit lungy so I went up and went to catch the bus back into town. As I was crossing over outside Trelawney's Garden Centre I saw none other than celebrity interior designer dandy Lawrence LLwellyn Bowen turning into Strand Lane. He was driving some smart German coupe and it was definitely him as his signature luxuriant mane was shining in the morning sun and billowing in the breeze coming off the estuary. I'm not sure what he was after. Perhaps he was staycationing and intent on visiting the camping exhibition which they have going on at the moment or he may be in the area visiting  Kirsty Allsop and wanted to buy her a nice plant.

Two B's in Barum

There aren't two b's in Barnstaple. There used to be, but one of them is now called Club Toko. It was only a matter of time before I raised my concerns over this subject. I have to say that the insistence in some quarters 'specially the national media that Barnstaple should be spelled Barnstable sickens me. I refused to get used to it. To some extent Lidl Supermarkets GMBH can be forgiven for using the incorrect spelling on their advertising inserts as they are German and also I have to be lenient as their cold meats are very tasty and are of an  inordinately good value; infact, I would 'ave to go as far  to say that after Pilton Stores, Duggie Grattons and John Patts this is me favourite shop.**. I digress. To my mind I was born in a staple, a wool trading location, not a stable although people often ask me for some unknown reason if I was born in a barn (Always puzzled me that one).
The whole matter was compounded this morning when I was stood at the bus stop opposite in Boutport Street opposite the Con Club and Ivor Thomas's old place in order to catch a bus down to Ashford Strand to check on me night lines, perfect tide for 'em this week, when a  310 Filer's bus pulled up across the way I couldn't help but notice that on it's destination plate it was apparently bound for Barnstable. Now I could assume that this was a mistake on the part of the driver who no doubt was a blow in as they all are and he couldn't be bothered to wind the board all the way around to P or maybe I could be led to believe that Filers are now running excursions to Barnstable, Massachusetts. Who knows? I shall be in contact with 'em dreckly.  Now there's a thought, that could be the pick up point for the trip. I will definitely look into this as I have always wanted to visit the USA. I wonder if they will be putting vouchers in the Gazette, like they did that time me and Ian Stokey went to the Austrian Tyrol.

While on the matter a similar question has also occurred to me. When did Barum become Barney? Only I was on the train down to Chapleton last week and when the guard came around he asked if I got on at Barney. Now, I seem to here this more and more. I think it's to do with the youngsters. The use of this appalling appellation should be discouraged.


http://www.filers.co.uk/

Sunday 9 May 2010

lectioneering

I have been busy this week lectioneering on behalf of the Liberal Party, as I still call them. I managed to get soaked to the skin delivering leaflets in Fair View and the Mill Road area and I then proceeded to sit in the cold outside Bear Street Methodist Chapel where I met all sorts of local dignatries mainly all named Brend.
Consequently, after spending all day out in the elements and staying up half the night for the results, I now have a stinking cold. The Squire gave me half a pound of laver and a bit of best back bacon which has gone some ways to aiding my ailment however I am none too amused to see that the Libs are getting in to bed with the Tories. I have voiced my opinion on this matter to Nick Harvey and I hope some Lib bolshy sense will prevail otherwise I'm handing in my party card.

Sunday 2 May 2010

The wit and wisdom of Bob Cobley

This morning I popped down Pilton Street to pick up the News of the World as me cousin was in it. She is getting married to Hugh Hefner, the playboy bloke and they had a double page spread where she was able to show off her assets and tell the British people how she made Mr Hefner all hot under the collar. She is one of the West Bromwich Mannings, my uncle Terry married a brummy who he met at Nalgo down at Croyde. So, because me Mother wanted to see what her niece was up to I made a trip down to Cobleys. Now Bob is a nice bloke, I've known him all my life and I always pop in once a month to get me Spanish Galleon model magazine. I've been building it month by month over the last three years so I always like to chew the fat with the boy however today he was in a very perspicative frame of mind. In only the few minutes I was in their we went from discussing the election through to call centres and on to the assorted local editions of the Journal. Good old Bob stocks the lot, the sign of a good newsagent. He has the Barnstaple Edition, the Bideford edition and the Ilfracombe edition. You must be aware if you ever go in there to pick up the correct edition as you could end up reading about the pride of Ilfracome awards rather than the article about a load of blokes who have blacked up and put on pink wigs to do a run for the local kiddies home. Bob though is a veritable mine of information and after I bought the NotW he did his favourite trick of dropping all my change on the counter rather than handing it over. Oh we had a laff it was only the seventieth time that he played that joke on me,