Windy Wimbledon

I love the Wimbledon Village Fair.  I think I’ve done it now for five years and it’s been a real pleasure every year.  Living for a night or two on Wimbledon Common is part of the pleasure.  The first year caused great consternation from the Wimbledon wardens (affectionately known as the Wombles!) as it is completely forbidden by Act of Parliament to park overnight on the Common.  But an Exception was made and now I am the only person officially permitted to live overnight the night before the Fair on Wimbledon Common, watching the sun set over the little pond and listening to the local teenagers complain about school and parents and watching the dog owners.

The Fair is a really great local London event.  It’s classic.  Fabulous food franchises of many hues and tastes.  Local charities and organisations with stalls and gazebos.  And lovely crafters, makers and sellers with some great wares.

But what really makes it is the public.  The people.  I love the spirit here.  They have no problem with the show, its eccentricity and theatricality.  Actually unlike many places where people find it hard to understand quite what it is I do.  Wimbledon just lets me be the odd British showman that I am and they enjoy it in a unique way.  This year again, I had some great feedback from people who come back every year to see the same stuff but they are so kind and complimentary that they make the very long journey and the exhausting setup and pull down worth every agonising hour.

This year the wind nearly killed it.  Gazebos took flight and the vision of young people hanging onto gazebo poles as the wind lashed the space was universal.  But we survived.  The Great British Determination. And underpinning that, a real warmth and care that I believe will and would defeat any future aggressor. It is classically British.  That is not to say it is white and middle class.  Amongst the nicest feedback I had was from a British Asian whose mum had seen the show last year and had given me some very personal gifts.  He made a special effort to come and talk to me after the show and was very complimentary.  And his mum had remembered that I was there and she apologised through her son that she couldn’t be there this year.  It is that sense of care and warmth that makes Wimbledon Village Fair a real success.  May it go on forever…

So I say ‘Well done Wimbeldon Guild’. If you didn’t make it this year, try to come next.  I will definitely be there.  DV.

All the best from a road near you,

Mr Alexander

A wild wet and windy week in the West

Well another dreadful June week at the Ilfracombe Victorian Festival.  Not dreadful in terms of the spirit or the people, just the weather which has been autumnal at least and wintery at worst.  The extraordinary group of replica Victorians who organise and promote this wonderful week have yet again provided a fabulous fantasmagoria of festivities, and most make or source their own costumes and props.  But what is most remarkable is their spirit.  They are warm and welcoming, creative and kind.  I watched them closely in the Finale Ball last night and my heart warmed to their gentle eccentricity and the genuine friendship they showed me and each other.  If there is a way such a spirit can defeat the enemy of the weather then we do stand a chance of victory.

This has been the second year I have been here and along with many of Britain’s towns it has the feel of a place in wartime.  And in wartime British people try to make the best of things, put on a brave face, show the stiff upper lip, keep right on till the end of the road.  The big difference is that in wartime there’s a sense of hope because we might win, we might see the bluebirds again.  But how can we win against the onslaught of the changing climate?  There’s no real enemy. OK we can do our bit, separate the rubbish, bike instead of car, change our boilers and insulate the house but somehow all that seems a drop in the ocean when whole countries are not doing the same.

It doesn’t mean that we don’t do it though. For my part I am spending a small fortune next week having particulate filters fitted to the lorryhome (check them out if you’re interested on http://www.astra-vt.com/Pages/CCRF_technology.html ).  This will mean my conscience can breath easily and maybe those following me down the motorway can too!

It also means I can travel into central London without having to pay Boris’ Emission Zone charge of £200 a day.  Which is where I will be next week on the common at the Wimbledon Village Fair.  Let’s hope the weather has improved by then, but we wont hold our breath.  Except that you wont have to any more if you’re following me down the M6.

See you on the road sometime.  Do wave or beep if you’re a friend….

Mr Alexander's Travelling Show