Port Eliot Festival
21-24 July, 2011
'Originally the Elephant Fayre, a lit-fest founded in 1981 by Peregrine St. Germans, his wife Catherine, actor and musician Rick Worthy, and Simon Prosser, Publishing Director of Hamish Hamilton,' the Port Eliot festival has developed over the years to what it is now, a cornucopia of talented individuals, both professional and ‘home-grown’. On arrival at the festival, my first reaction was one of astonishment. Like a child in a sweetie shop, I was dazzled by the ‘confectionary’ on offer; all the colours of the rainbow, and I didn’t know which event to choose first.
Keith and I had been emailed a couple of guest tickets for Sunday, 24th July by Jeff Barratt of Caught by the River – www.caughtbytheriver.net (an excellent website for anyone with piscatorial/literary or musical tastes). We had no preconceived ideas about the festival, but we did know that they had some space there, and that Chris Yates, renowned angling writer and a trustee of Angling Heritage would be on stage; we hoped that he would be reading an extract from his keenly anticipated forthcoming nature book. That alone was reason enough for us to travel from Torrington to the festival at St. Germans, located on the Rame Peninsula, Cornwall; we weren’t disappointed by what we experienced.
On entering the site, which is the home of Lord and Lady St. Germans, everything was professionally organised. From the very courteous staff, who checked our tickets and issued our wristbands, to the free parking and easy walkway to the festival. We stood at the top of a hill and looked down into the valley. The first sight was of tents, yurts and tipis, nestled into the rolling hills. There was an air of serenity. The hidden sun warmed us; birds sang, and in the distance, music pulsed its life-force, guiding us down into the heart-throb of the festival. I have eclectic tastes in music, and love most of what I hear, and as we wandered into the main arena, I was blown away by the sights and sounds. Later, my greatest frustration would be that I seemed to arrive just as a performance was ending, so mostly, I caught sound-bytes here and there. Visually, I didn’t know where to look first, and couldn’t wait to explore the array of tented areas to see what treasures they would yield.
Our first stop was at the ‘Caught by the River’ marquee, where we met with some new people from the world of music and publishing; previously only acquainted by email, it was good to put a face to an echat. Their marquee was situated next to the river estuary of the Lynher (or St. German’s River) which flows into the Tamar, and on to Plymouth Sound. The area is designated a Site of Special Scientific Interest, and was the perfect location for anything fishing-related, and a prime spot for Caught by the River crew, and their words and music.
Angling writers, Chris Yates, Jon Berry, John Andrews and Charles Rangeley-Wilson were scheduled to be on stage at 3.15 p.m. so we had plenty of time to take a look around the site beforehand. Naturally enough, our starting point was the waterside where we watched as people in various states of undress jumped into the water! The tidal river had ebbed, exposing large tracts of energy-sapping deep grey mud, and people of all ages were slithering and sliding on the banks, with a freedom usually enjoyed only by the very young. I was envious, and once again, cursed my reserved nature. Maybe a few ‘bloody Marys’ in the CBTR bar would have released my inhibitions and I would have joined the fun – next year, perhaps!
We wandered along the banks toward the arched bridge, before making our way up the slope past the huge cinema screen, to the walled garden. We stopped to listen to a reading by Mick Brown from his book, ‘The Spiritual Tourist’ before passing by the Jazz marquee and sea-food stalls, into the flower garden, just as a trio of young ladies were about to sing and play. Glad to have arrived at the start of their impromptu performance, I despatched Keith to buy a drink, and settled down amongst the floral displays to listen to ‘The Half Sisters’ from London. Their singing and playing reminded me so much of an excellent young and innovative trio, ‘Stealing Sheep’ who were at the Bideford Folk Festival in Devon a couple of years ago, and I thoroughly enjoyed their impromptu performance. According to ‘The Half Sisters’ they don’t have a cd of their songs and music, but you can see them online; well worth a listen.
Later, we wound our way down the hill and bypassed the main house, where yet another display of talent had just ended and a new one had just begun; more words, laughter, and music; what a great combination, and wonderful to see so many smiling faces enjoying the performance. This festival was a real family event and everyone seemed happy.
There were food tents, including Jamie Oliver’s ‘15’, and many stalls with their brightly coloured wares. We drooled over the variety of taste-buds’ tantalising food, and listened to extracts being read from various authors’ books. I guessed it was around two-ish, so we ambled back down to the riverside, where we sat on a grass bank to watch the water and eat our lunch. Stretching out, with the sun warming our bodies, Keith soon fell asleep, trilling quietly in time to the distant sounds of music. Neither of us wears a watch in a deliberate two-fingered gesture to that robber of life, time, but in the blinking of a drowsy eye-lid, I realised that an hour or so had probably passed, and that we might have missed the event that we had travelled to see. I was almost right. The CBTR marquee was overflowing with people. Squeezing our way through the crowd, I managed to find space on a hay bale, and nestled down to listen to Chris, Jon, John and Charles who were on stage and reading extracts from the collaborative book ‘On Nature’. John Andrews had given each author a book from which to read extracts, and he handed Chris a Crabtree book. He began to read, but not what was on the page. What followed was Chris’s own highly amusing and, deemed by some, ‘blasphemous’, off-the-cuff version of ‘Fishing for Tench’ by Mr. Crabtree, but I’ll ask Keith to write about that.
KA: Chris told me afterwards that his reading of the cartoon was totally spontaneous, and as most of the assembled throng knew the book verbatim, everyone quickly realised how Chris was embellishing the tale with such lines as “Peter, you can have this wooden reel with metal on the back, no good for anything, while I will try this fabulous Flick’em style reel. I’ll set up a sensitive float leger rig, while you can use this old wooden float and set it up 12” deep and see if you can catch anything”. It brought waves of laughter, as did John Andrews talking about fishing with Roger Barnes, the Thames boatman, who ends his guided sessions having to collect his daughter from school (apparently, she is in her 30’s!).
Jon Berry read his chapter from ‘On Nature’ about night fishing, with which I totally agree. If you want to fish at night, then fish and appreciate the surroundings, not sleep it away. Chris talked about his midsummer walks at night; Charles Rangeley-Wilson talked about his love of trout, and about Thames trout, reading from AE Hobbs’ legendary book.
It was really enjoyable to see four articulate anglers talking about their love of their sport; each clearly has respect for the other and their enthusiasm was infectious. Perhaps the quote of the session came from CR-W, who was asked to write a piece on ‘how to fish’. He said “the important thing is why, and the how will come with time.” It was a great way to spend a couple of hours on a Sunday afternoon, and each took time out to chat to members of the audience, sign books and share fishing stories.
SA: My favourite quote came from Jon Berry who said: “don’t fish for the fish, but fish for the moment.” (I believe that life is made up of such moments in time, and it is those which stay in our memory, long after everything else fades away).
As people drifted away to other events, late afternoon morphed into early evening and the festival arena took on a fairy-like atmosphere as white lights shimmered on cabled strands in the dusk. We were planning to make our way home, when we wandered over to the Big Top; Keith wanted to listen to Glen Tillbrook of ‘Squeeze’ fame. “Guess who I’ve just been standing next too?” said Keith and before I could hazard a guess, he said: “Suggs! You know - Madness”. I did know and I wanted a photo, so asked Keith to take one but before I knew it, he’d asked Suggs if I could have my photo taken with him – I felt awkward, but not too embarrassed to behave like a star-struck schoolgirl and stand next to him to have this pic taken! Aaah; Suggs looks slightly blurred - he was moving at the time – trying to run away I think!
After that excitement, I fancied a latte, so we made our way over to ‘15’ where we sat watching a white van; every few metres, the driver would stop, someone would wave a board on which was written: “ON TOUR” and loads of people cheered and jumped up and down while ‘celebs’ popped out of the back of the van. This was repeated several times, and I was amused to see people climbing into the van through the passenger door, and jumping out of the back to a cheering crowd. Just one of the bizarre things we saw at the festival.
Coffee finished, Keith said hopefully: “time to go?” - age dictating his desire for the comfort of his bed. “Just five more minutes,” I said. “RSVP are on in the Big Top. I’d like to see what they do.” Imagine my delight when I saw them on stage; dressed in Indian attire, traditional drums beat the rythmn to rock guitars, and set the audience alight.
This Bristol-based band, whose ‘Bhangraific’ music and ‘dancedelic funky tunes’ drew the crowds in, were the icing of the cake for me. It was hot and steamy in the Big Top as we were coached through our ‘Bollywood’ dance moves; the musical intensity of sound and heat sent Keith running for space and air; not so me! I danced and gyrated with the best of them; I wore my ‘shades’ even though it was dark! I didn’t want anyone to recognise me on Youtube!!! My glasses kept steaming up with the heat of the sweaty bodies; not very cool!! It’s the best aerobic work-out I’ve had in a long, long time. Their website doesn’t do them justice, but visit it to take a look at what they do. www.rsvpbhangra.weebly.com – if you get the chance to see them live; take it.
All too soon, the day was at an end and the journey home over the moors was spooky, to say the very least. Ten miles an hour through thick fog which blanketed the highway; I swear I could hear the ‘Hound of the Baskerville’ baying in the distance. Only kidding; but it was a sod for Keith, because he had to drive home after a pretty full day. I’m planning on booking a tipi for next year’s festival, just so that we can party for longer and Keith doesn’t have to drive home at the end of each day. Thanks for the tickets Jeff – nice one!
Don’t miss out on next year’s festival; it’s a great experience.
Visit: www.porteliotfestival.com for full details.
Sandy Armishaw, River Reads
www.riverreads.co.uk
www.anglingheritage.org