Bollocks to this, I’m off back to London.
Cornwall was great. On Friday I attended a gig arranged by local youth organisation Zebedees, who do an excellent (and typically underfunded) job of providing support and focus for the youth of Truro. Taking place in the genteel surroundings of Victoria Gardens, the afternoon saw a stream of young bands (and I mean young – some barely into their teens) playing short sets to an audience of several hundred local kids. Highlights included the brilliantly named Jesus And His Disciples, outstanding lyrical tomfoolery from Fatcat and Witch, and a bewilderingly unique, spine-tingling cover of a Red Hot Chili Peppers song from a young girl called Susie. All in all, the most punk-rock thing I’ve seen in years, and inspiring stuff all round.
Saturday found me at the Tapestry Club Festival, an annual (this being the first) event hosted at a genuine Cornish Wild West Theme Park, the kind of place where Western fantatics pitch up their Winnebagos and play at Cowbloys and Indians. It’s got everything – a saloon with swing doors, old fellas armed to the teeth wandering round in leather chaps, and a sheriff known only as JB who rides around town on a white horse, encouraging the residents to spend money at the General Store. I buy a Stetson. Nearly everyone buys a Stetson.
Other highlights included a trip to the delightful fishing village of Mevagissey to secure a job lot of delicious traditional Cornish Pasties and to stroll round the quite extraordinary collectables shop Cloud Cuckoo Land, where the owner has plastered the walls with signs like “the proprietor refuses to answer more than three stupid questions in an hour” and “please don’t tell me that you’ve got an item just like this at home.” Lovely.