The Nottingham Robin Hood Beer Festival 2009

This year’s Robin Hood Beer Festival came and went and was a roaring success in respect of visitors – even more than ever. I visited Nottingham Castle for the event on the Friday evening with a friend, arriving to join the long queue at around 8.30pm. A reasonable time of around twenty minutes or so elapsed before we were through the gate and into the thick of things.

Ten pounds was the standard deal and this included admission, a commemorative half pint jug and two beer tokens to initially whet your whistle with. The first job therefore was to locate more beer tokens, each reasonably priced at £1.25 and entitling the owner to a half pint of beer or cider.

On entering the huge main marquee the fist noticeable thing was the huge amount of visitors crammed in under the canvass. The festival was seriously busy with the equally serious business of drinking beer. My friend and I picked our way through the thickly packed crowd to the area selling the cider. We managed just one glass each, in my case of ‘Perry’s sweet cider. It was a refreshing and tasty start to the proceedings which left me thirsty for more. Unfortunately plans had to be modified as from that point – and indeed for the entire rest of the evening – the cider tables were besieged with frantic customers standing three and four people deep in a desperate attempt to get served. The judicious use of elbows seemed to be a pre-requisite too. Slightly crestfallen, I settled on plumping for a real ale or two – very much a second choice for me.

Nottingham’s Bloggers

I’m not sure how the city of Nottingham compares creatively in the sphere of blog writing with other similar cities. Save for Edinburgh perhaps, I haven’t the time to scour contemporary towns and their respective blogs and observe how they stack up against the output from The Lace City. I have a hunch though that Nottingham is pretty well served by it’s blogging and writing talent generally.

The Tears of a Clown is not necessarily a ‘Nottingham Blog’ by any means. I tend to just write about the subjects that interest or amuse me and the experiences I have. Nevertheless any visitor browsing through this site will come across plenty of Nottinghamshire content and I like to maintain the site’s partly local identity. In doing this I often browse around to see what my fellow Nottingham based bloggers are saying and am seldom disappointed in what I come across.

I initiated this blog site after formerly running my own regular website and posting articles on there. In June 2007 I attended a lecture at the Lowdham Book Festival given by Mike Atkinson. What I heard that day in a most entertaining and hugely informative talk by Mike, prompted me to initiate The Tears of a Clown. It’s only fitting then that I begin by linking to his own blog, troubled diva.

troubled diva

‘Without a doubt, drivel is Mike’s forte’

Don’t be fooled by the tag line, Mike Atkinson’s piece of the Web has pretty much all the things you might enjoy about a blog experience. Great content, quality writing, humour and information. Although going through a hiatus or two due to professional writing duties, it remains a vibrant and fun read, particularly if you enjoy reading about music. Features including the highlighting of other interesting articles from around the Net, Twitter and a well-populated comments section keep up the interest.

Nottingham Graffiti

‘News, views and musings from the great city’

I haven’t been reading Alan-a-dale’s blog for too long but what I see I like a lot. Lot’s of local content expressed in an individual and very readable and personable style.

Canuckistani in Limey Land

‘Fun, frivolity and assorted moaning about England’

Brookes, Alberta’s Rob Cutforth who bills himself as ‘A Canadian in New Basford’ is one of my favourite bloggers and whilst not hugely prolific his articles are always worth the wait. Rob no longer lives in Nottingham having moved to Manchester but posts excellent and hilarious items on the superb LeftLion website, and hard copy newspaper, here in Nottingham.

Come a walk around Nottingham Goose Fair with me

Saturday evening and it’s the last night of the Nottingham Goose Fair 2009. My partner Melanie and I decided to make the short journey to the old travelling funfair, now, almost unbelievably, in it’s 715th year. Like many profess to, we just went for a walk around, to take in the sights, smells and atmosphere of the huge event.

It’s seldom I’ve visited the fair in the past few years and one change that is noticeable is the lack of the old sideshows which were very much the essence of Goose Fair for me. Attractions such as the Boxing Booth, where local worthies would get up to challenge travelling fighters are sadly missed. ‘Mouse Town’, which is fairly self-descriptive and wonder to us kids, is no more either. Other omissions might well be down to the more easily breached sensibilities of 2009. It’s hard to imagine a giant Scotsman being allowed for people to gawp at, nor a ‘bearded lady’ for that matter.

The children love it all of course and even in these days of sophisticated X-Boxes and other high-tech amusements, it’s good to see that same wide-eyed wonder that I probably had all those years ago when I was their age.

It’s important to leave a little space in your stomach for a taste of the fair I always think and I have to say I was very restrained on this visit. I had a tub of the traditional mushy peas with a large splash of mint sauce as well – lovely! I managed to forego other such delicacies as Brandy Snaps, Candyfloss and the vast array of fudge on show. Curiously the foodstuff perhaps most synonymous with Goose Fair – toffee apples were nowhere to be seen. Another point, where my seafood? Maybe these have been replaced with the smattering of noodle concessions, posh coffee vans and Panini bars that seem to have sprung up.

The Forest Recreation ground where Goose Fair is held is very handy for the main arterial Mansfield Road which leads straight up and over into the city. It houses one or two excellent pubs and is something of a traditional ‘crawl’ who prefer the relative sanity of its public houses to some of those in the centre of Nottingham. Last evening after the Fair, Mel and I wandered along to Fade Bar or The Hard to Find Cafe to quote it’s other name. It’s an interesting old building with a nice mixed clientele and good quality and varied drinks. The conservatory area is a great addition to this pub/cafe and is nicely atmospheric. I tried a pint of the excellent Aspells cider from Suffolk and an equally tasty pint of Erdinger Weissbier. Happily, one of my favourite Nottingham hostelries is but a few yards from the front door of The Hard to Find… and what better conclusion to a typical Nottingham Goose Fair night than a pint in The Lincolnshire Poacher with its fine ales, quality continental lagers and friendly surroundings. Roll on the first weekend in October 2010…

Why not come along with me now for a walk on the Fair…

Autumn in Nottingham

If there’s one thing that always heralds the notion that Autumn has arrived in Nottingham it’s the opening of the historic Goose Fair. This ancient congregation was always traditionally opened at lunchtime on the first Thursday in October, running until late Saturday night over a three day duration. The demands of commerce now decree that the centuries old fair, which initially began in the city’s Old Market Square for matters of trade and now resides around a mile north on the Forest recreation round, opens a day early on the Wednesday evening, ignoring the old tradition.

The rush hour Nottingham traffic that snakes past the site of the fair predictably takes a peak over at the mass of lights and activity in the far distance. Straight ahead is the traditional large goose figure that is placed on the pretty traffic roundabout once a year at this time. Local people even have their own name for the characteristically crisper air prevalent as the new season commences. ‘Goose Fair weather’ they call it and what better description could one need? I note though a steady drizzle of rain this evening – the first in some time – so many times do the fair traders and attendees appear to have had a poor deal with big boots, raincoats and heavy knitwear being necessary for the traditional slog through the mud churned up by thousands of footsteps viewing the rides, amusements and food stalls.

I know that winter is but around the corner as I tread a steadily mounting covering of dry, crispy leaves along the paths and quiet lanes of my daily runs. Beginning as a trickle and eventually sometimes becoming a ploughing movement through the surrounding deciduous woodlands where bracken lays waiting to snag my footfall. Running is incessantly pleasant during the drier day of Autumn, but with every step I am aware that the stiffer test of winter exercise is just around the corner, waiting to test my resolve over the dark months once again.

The city makes various attempts at offering new amusements and festivals throughout the year and the success of one old favourite, but in a new setting, is probably about to be repeated next week. The Nottingham Robin Hood Beer Festival ran for many years at this time, held at the old Victoria Baths. An immensely popular institution within and without the city, the show had to move on or die as the venue was no more. A stroke of original thinking however now sees it housed in the Nottingham Castle grounds. The festival sports a large marquee and live music from the bandstand. I managed to miss its inaugural appearance at the stately old venue last year due to being on a protracted stay in Western Canada. No such luck this year but a visit and a few ciders down in the heart of Nottingham will provide some consolation and a pleasant night out with friends.

Beer at the Castle

Soon it will be time again for pumpkin patches to be raided in time for ‘Guisers Night’ as we of Scots origin call it. I can’t say I’m terribly enamoured with some of the assumed North American ways of celebrating the pagan festival but I must admit there is some atmospheric appeal that I just cannot quite define. Of course the quickly following Guy Fawkes (Bonfire) Night will lead to a thousand childhood memories of collecting material for the huge fires we had, acquiring fireworks and dressing up a ‘Guy’ for pennies in public. The smells of the fire, gun powder, and not least toffee apples, bonfire toffee and honeycomb are never far from the imagination in at this time

Some see Autumn as a time of death in the sense that vegetation withers and dies away. All around us nature begins to fall asleep and I can’t argue with that perception. I would counter though that the season has a surety about it – one that tells us that life rolls on and on and there is some comfort in that when we think of the dark, dank months ahead. Any good gardener will till you that Autumn in often the beginning of things, when plans are made, things are planted in readiness for the future too. I like the Autumn. I love to see the shiny conkers lying below my feet – so tempting to pick up and collect just as I did as a boy. The chestnuts too in the nearby woods, to be taken home and roasted if an occasion allows. There is so much beauty to this time of year which those of us who like to experience all four season – for better or worse – understand and immerse ourselves in

Thursday Nights – It’s Reunion Time

After the recent death of a musical hero of mine, John Martyn the singer-songwriter it left me contemplating life a little. I had explained in my tribute to John how I came to first attend one of his concerts back in the late seventies with a friend from Nottingham Trent Polytechnic as it was in those days.  His enthusiasm for John Martyn’s music convinced me that I should give this man a good hearing and I became a great admirer of him  then, and over the years.

Jeff Reynolds was that good fiend of mine amongst a host of good friends of the day, others being Rue Randall and Gary Tarlton-Weatherall who also studied at Trent Polytechnic in the same small class as myself. We were all apprentice compositors – typesetters basically, for those not familiar with the now-defunct word. We were all industry-based with full-time jobs in print shops but came along to study for a year full-time at ‘the Poly’, thereafter followed by one-week-per-month appearances at the same learning institution.

They were wonderful, exciting times in some respects but also very difficult ones too. We four were a pretty tight-knit bunch in most respects.  It’s difficult to forget the pressure we were placed under in learning that very complex and skilled trade. In those days a failure in our exams basically meant no City & Guilds qualification and therefore no status as a craftsman. To fail would have been unthinkable and quite possibly the route into a potentially humdrum unskilled job with few prospects. It was against that backdrop that we studied together but one would never have thought so in observing us.

Sven-Goran Eriksson signs for Notts County!

Staggering – that’s the only word!

I’m talking of course of the local football news story that former England coach Sven-Goran Eriksson has signed for the world’s oldest league club as Director of Football. Apparently Sven’s duties will include the overseeing of player development and training facilities at Meadow Lane. Other responsibilities will include looking after the youth academy, negotiating transfers for the club, scouting for new talent and the general health and fitness of the players. Joining him in dealing with these duties will be his long-time assistant Tord Grip.

It’s all become a reality due to the recent takeover of Notts County by Munto Finance, a Middle-East based consortium who have highly ambitious plans for the club which include a realistic establishing of Notts in the Championship within the next five seasons. This patience makes a refreshing change in these kinds of matters. Those close to Munto Finance, the ambitious consortium which took control last week with plans to establish the club in the Championship within five years, say Eriksson is in for the ‘long haul’.

Well…that didn’t last long

You have a city with a genuine bona fide football hero. A man that put a medium-sized provincial city on the world map of football and became the biggest thing since Robin Hood.

After a protracted spell of hard work in fund raising, fully £70,000 is collected to commission an excellent tribute to the man in question – a permanent memorial for all to enjoy in a busy area of the city. Then some numb nut decides to vandalise it after only a few short months.

The statue of Brian Clough in Nottingham lasted intact from last November until this week. Sadly I think we all knew it would happen some time. Thankfully the wrong has now been put right.

There was a lot of consideration as to where to site the statue. One problem at the time was that Nottingham Forest were actually talking about moving grounds. It was decided that the statue should be in the centre of the city where everyone could enjoy it – not just visitors to the City Ground which is a short bus ride out of the city. On balance I’m glad they put it where they did. I walk past it frequently in the city and always have a peek at Brian and a wry smile to myself when thinking of him. The statue brings back many happy memories.

This Clough statue incident is one of sheer wanton and mindless vandalism. Quite likely attention-seeking behaviour too. i think this person will get his come-uppance though. It might have the useful side-effect of focusing local peoples’ thoughts on the problems of vandalism too.

I really wouldn’t like to be in the shoes of the perpetrator if his or her identity becomes public…

The Old Malt Cross, Nottingham

Sometimes we’ve all been guilty of ignoring a little gem from right under our noses and this was the case with me and The Old Malt Cross in Nottingham until the past year or two. I always knew of it’s existence just off the Old market Square in the city centre on the pedestrianised St. James Street, adjacent The Bell Inn, but never visited. I wasted some time because the converted music hall dating back to 1877 is a beautiful and interesting place to find oneself for a quiet pint and tasty snack early evening after work or to listen to the good quality live music that the venue sports.

Built on two floors, the upper area is an oval balcony that looks down on the throng below and also the small stage which is curiously situated at a height between the two floors at one end of the building. Presumably this would have been where the original music hall acts of the Victorian era would perform and heavily harks back to that age.

As well as an impressive and historic structure, The Old Malt Cross has pleasant, friendly and efficient staff which means those dreary and frustrating queues for drinks or usually absent, even at the peak of a busy Friday night in Nottingham’s city centre.

The Nottingham Riveria

For those of us of a certain vintage the term ‘Nottingham-on-Sea’ applied not to the East Midlands city but to the Lincolnshire resort of Skegness a couple of hours drive east. ‘Skeggy’ as it has always been abbreviated has always been a traditional getaway destination from Nottingham – especially for a day trip by the sea. The fact that arriving in Skegness still leaves a healthy walk to the briny depths of the murky, chilly North Sea makes no difference to the resort’s popularity with Nottingham folk and also visitors from the likes of Leicester, Derby and Sheffield.

Let’s make no bones about it, if you enjoy to be beside the seaside then Nottingham is hardly the place to base yourself. It’s not exactly the furthest destination from the coast in this small island of ours but it’s still heckuva land-locked in geography and travelling time.

Back in the 1990s’ the local council struck up the idea that bringing the seaside to Nottingham might be an option. They did this during three summers in the Lace City during that decade. My fragile memory also tells me that this indeed happened in the 1970s’ on one occasion too as part of the sadly aborted ‘Nottingham Festival’ of the time. This is not to be seen reported anywhere in the media though I note. I know what I saw though, those donkeys for one thing…

Nottingham boasts a ‘new’ Old Market Square these days. It’s former design has been manipulated into an arguably inferior looking area but one that is infinitely more practical to use for events. This is due to the levelling of the former ‘Processional Way’ through the centre of the old market area that was. In recent times this has provided a home for ‘The Nottingham Eye’ ferris wheel, an outdoor ice rink with accompanying German Christmas Market, music stages and other sundry events.

The Marathon Diaries: The Old Road

It’s three days after my initial run of thirteen miles as I write, the two intervening days containing a couple of single-mile runs which keep my ‘streak’ going and a seven mile walk around the Denton area of The Vale of Belvoir. This was partly due to sore lower stomach muscles from that last long run. Sometimes having the ability to run a long way without taking too much care about doing it can be a bad thing. I really should remember that it’s some five weeks since I ran such a distance.

So it’s back to the old disused road near where I live for a few laps to gauge my soreness. I know by doing this I can end at the appropriate time without being obliged to complete a circuit. The old road is a curious place. It’s a crumbly half-mile stretch of faded tarmac running parallel with its more modern successor of some forty or so years. It’s pleasant and fairly quiet though, often you won’t see a single soul around there. To one side is a small wood and to the other open farmland with a picturesque farm house perched on the red hills.

I set off and immediately feel my stomach tugging though this soon eases. I consult the set of limestone rocks near the beginning that I count off my laps with. I could never remember how many half-mile stretches I’ve run after the first handful!

The old road itself is largely set on a hill and is a healthy workout for that reason. The road is useful for a very short and necessary run near to home but when encountering the thought of running several laps, music become essential to me. A Sony Walkman Mp3 player plays some summery music into my ears under the watery May sunshine, dappled by the freshly green trees lining the route.

Today I ran twelve laps equalling six miles. The time was unimportant. I’m thinking of the long-term goal as usual. Now – what about that diet…