Burying St Edmund, Greene Kings, and Rita Coolidge - Just another day out in Suffolk, but a 'Grand Day Out' all the same.

I cannot remember exactly how this day came about, but I suspect it all began with a Rita Coolidge track popping up on shuffle on my i-Pod. As is often the case with an artist that I don't listen to all the time, I do a quick search on Google to see if a) they are still alive, b) still performing, and c) possibly touring and playing close to Norwich anytime soon. Well, Rita Coolidge is still very much alive, and according to her website, is about to undertake a UK tour that takes in The Apex, in Bury St Edmunds.

Tickets were £24, but it is not everyday that I find a seventies American legend performing that close to Norwich (Bury St Edmunds is just over 40 miles, making it about the same distance away as Ipswich). As I hadn't ever been to a show at the recently-opened Apex venue, I went ahead and booked myself a ticket.

As the date approached, I decided to make a day of it - I haven't been to Bury St Edmunds since the year before La Maman died - and this seemed like a good excuse to have a wander around somewhere other than Norwich's Anglia Square. The weather forecast looked good, so I could check out the town, have a rummage around the charity shops for used CDs, and pay my respects to the cathedral and the abbey ruins. I could even book onto a guided tour of the Greene King brewery - something that really requires either taking a designated driver, or leaving several hours to elapse before driving home myself. Yes, this could be quite a grand day out!

Bury St Edmunds
I may have been a bit over-keen, but I set the alarm early, with a view to leaving the house by 9am. I figured that it's about a one hour drive, but it was a Saturday and I wanted to make sure that I arrived in time to grab a long-stay car parking spot. Internet research had shown that the Parkway multi-storey car park near the town centre offered all-day car parking for the very reasonable fee of £3, although I would possibly have to cough up another pound to extend for the evening. I ensured that my phone and camera batteries were fully charged, made a couple of rounds of egg sandwiches, and set off.

The sat-nav interestingly took me right through the centre of Thetford but I arrived soon after 10am as expected. I found the car park without any problem, only to discover that on a Saturday I was only allowed a maximum of four hours - not much good to me. I therefore resorted to 'plan B' and drove out to beyond the limits of the permit-holder zone (found a spot in Westley Road which is almost opposite the University College Suffolk campus), and strolled back into town. Took about ten minutes, max.

After locating The Apex I was able to collect my ticket without any problem - they didn't need a booking reference number, or even any ID. So much more trusting than some other venues. The Apex has now been open for just over five years, and has a light and spacious foyer with a café on the ground floor and a bar upstairs. It forms part of the modern Arc shopping centre, built on the site of the old cattle market, and it's presence here is surprising, seeing as the restaurant and Cineworld complex situated on the other side of Parkway might have been a tempting alternative (à la Cambridge Junction). Instead it is surrounded on three sides by modern shopping units, including a futuristic looking Debenhams that has echoes of a 'Birmingham-Bull Ring-Selfridges' kind of thing going on. Top marks to Bury St Edmunds for providing such an impressive arts venue so close to the heart of the town (the former arts venue at the historic Corn Exchange has since become a bar and restaurant run by Wetherspooon).

It is only a short walk through the town centre to the abbey grounds, but I decide to go to the brewery visitor centre first to sort out a place on one of the day's guided tours. There is still limited availability on the 2.00pm tour, but I decide to bag the final place on the last tour at 3.30pm. I hand over my £12 and they take my name, but I get neither ticket or receipt in exchange. They really are a laid-back and trusting lot in Bury St Edmunds.

It is a beautiful sunny day and dramatic white clouds billow up against a bright blue sky - perfect for wandering around outside and taking some pictures. I am soon reminded how this town came by its name :

Edmund, King of East Anglia, was captured by the Danes in 869AD. When he refused to renounce his Christian faith he was tied to a tree, shot with arrows until he 'bristled like a hedgehog', and finally decapitated. His head was eventually located, being guarded by wolves, and was allowed to be brought back to his body, at which point it miraculously re-fused itself at the neck. The body was later placed within the abbey of Bury St Edmunds, where the shrine became one of England's wealthiest and most famous places of pilgrimage. Indeed, St Edmund became patron saint of England until he was usurped by the dragon-slaying St George almost five hundred years later, in 1350. Even Henry VIII was so in awe of the legend of St Edmund that the abbey was one of the very last of the country's monasteries to be dissolved, the king being almost afraid to alienate the believers in Edmund.

Nowadays, only remain where once the great abbey stood, but in its shadow lies the Anglican Cathedral of St Edmundsbury, which serves the diocese of St Edmundsbury and Ipswich (hence, Bury St Edmunds remains as a town and not a city). Construction of the cathedral started in Norman times, but the central tower was only completed during this century (between the years of 2000 and 2005).

Greene King Brewery

I have been a legal drinker of Greene King ales for forty years now, and I probably had my first taste even earlier than that. My parents were regular and frequent visitors to the Loaves and Fishes in Beccles, specifically for imbibing in the Abbot Ale, and I was known to accompany them on more than one occasion. Lowestoft, at the time, was a barren wasteland for 'real ale' drinkers with Watneys and Whitbread owning the vast majority of pubs. Apart from a couple of Adnams pubs in the town, proper beer was found only by venturing further south towards Southwold, or west towards Bury St Edmunds.

The Greene King brewery has grown massively in the intervening years, and now produces 14 million pints of beer every week. It has grown by acquisition over the years, and now it is not just the range of Greene King ales that are brewed at Bury St Edmunds, but also Ruddles, Old Speckled Hen, Hardy & Hanson, and a trendy range of craft and speciality beers. Purists may claim that such large-scale production has debased the heritage of the original product, but John, our tour guide, explains that the modern technology merely assists the production of such a wide range of ales. Whatever.

The secret, he claims, lies in the modern brewers' ability to blend a larger number of hop varieties with the malt, the grain and the yeast, and also in the ability to 'balance' the water for each brew by adjusting the hardness and the mineral composition. The barley is no longer malted on-site, although it is still grown in East Anglia and processed by Boortmalt just a couple of miles away. Dried hops now arrive in 'pelleted' form, only one single strain of yeast is now used, and assorted natural flavouring agents are blended in to produce the increasing range of seasonal and commemorative ales. However, despite the growing supermarket trade, the vast majority of beer produced at Bury St Edmunds still leaves in casks rather than kegs or bottles, and is therefore a product with a very short shelf-life. If nothing else, you have to admire the logisitics and expertise in producing such huge quantities and getting them into pubs around the country with such tight deadlines.

I have to admit to always having been an Adnams drinker myself, with Woodfordes perhaps being a close second choice, yet I have always enjoyed a pint of Abbot. Perhaps, like many CamRA (Campaign for Real Ale) purists, I am being unreasonable in my suspicions about Greene King's expansionist and acquisition-led reputation. We are, after all, lucky in having no shortage of independent micro-breweries springing up to guarantee a genuinely wide choice of  original ales and beers.

I certainly enjoyed my tour, including the 100+ steps climb up onto the rooftop of the brew house, taking in the views and the delicious aromas along the way, but relished the tastings at the end even more. We are initially given samples of Abbot Ale, Old Speckled Hen, and Green King IPA to sample, but I also manage to quaff eight or nine other brews before finally staggering out into the late afternoon sunshine. One of the most unusual was Purple Reign, not a tribute to the musician Prince, but a fruity brew in celebration of the Queen's ninetieth birthday. No matter what you think of Greene King, if you are a beer drinker you will find this guided tour and its refreshing conclusion a fascinating couple of hours.

And so it is off to The Apex for tonight's concert. Obviously I have to leave my car where it is, but a little tip for anyone attending future evening events at The Apex -  all on-street car parking in Bury St Edmunds town centre appears to be permit holders only, but these restrictions end at 6.00pm from Monday to Saturday. It should not be difficult to find somewhere free to park within easy walking distance of the venue. Alternatively, most of the pay-and-display car parks appear to charge a flat-rate fee of £1 after this time.

Rita Coolidge at The Apex

Rita Coolidge's most successful years were probably during the 1970's, starting with her eponymous debut album in 1971. She started off as a backing singer for US act Delaney & Bonnie, but also sang with everyone from Bob Dylan to Eric Clapton. In 1973 she married Kris Kristofferson, and the pair released several albums together. At a time when glamorous pop stars were still something of a novelty, Coolidge became one of only a handful of female artists to be celebrated in poster form, her long hair and striking features becoming almost as well-known than her music thanks to Athena, and a generation of teenage boys too old for Cilla Black. That was soon to change. Debbie Harry, Kate Bush and even Olivia Newton-John were soon to change the landscape of testosterone-tinged bedroom walls for ever.

I was fifteen at the time, and whilst I knew of Coolidge my own  musical tastes lay more with Top 40 bands like T.Rex and Slade, or prog-rock acts like Led Zeppelin, Emerson lake and Palmer, and Genesis. American folk and country music hardly hit my radar at all. That would come much later.

Meanwhile Coolidge's reputation as a Stateside rock-chick was not harmed in any way by stories of romantic liaisons with the likes of Graham Nash, Stephen Stills and Leon Russell. She was almost the Sheryl Crow of her day, mixing and touring as a female musician in a male-dominated world. Luckily, this UK tour coincides with the release of her autobiography, Delta Lady, published by Harper Collins, in which she promises to reveal all about her turbulent life, and chronicling her rise to fame. Not surprisingly, a notice in the foyer of The Apex informs us that Rita will be signing copies of the book after tonight's performance.

The interior of The Apex is, as you would expect, bright and modern. It has removable seating downstairs for 500, with further seats around the balconies. It is all a bit IKEA in style - lots of polished light wood and aluminium rails, but the seats are surprisingly comfortable, with plenty of leg room. Late-comers can easily squeeze past without the yo-yos up and down before the start and during the interval. It is by no means sold out tonight, which is a bit of a shame as it leaves the auditorium feeling slightly reverberant, with audience chatter echoing off the walls in a slightly hollow manner.

Support comes from a bearded grey gentleman in a flat cap with a guitar, who looks a bit like a retired farmer. It turns out that Ian Brown (no, not that one) comes from Hampshire, and for fourteen years he did indeed milk cows, farm pigs, and grow corn. He then turned to songwriting and music management in 2000. I cannot say that I am that impressed by his repertoire of self-written folk ditties, but have to respect the fact that in his time he has written songs for the likes of Jason Donovan and Pixie Lott. He wrote a follow up single for Sinitta, intended for release after So Macho and Toy Boy, but her then manager (a certain Simon Cowell) went bankrupt before it could be recorded. But his biggest claim to fame appears to be the Ivor Novello songwriting award which he won for Sandi Thom's big hit in 2007, I Wish I Was A Punk Rocker (With Flowers in my Hair). Now it all makes sense. I always hated that song.

Rita Coolidge is announced on stage by a member of her own band, and walks on to warm applause. She is looking good for 71 years old, elegantly dressed and wearing high heeled shoes. Her hair is still long and straight, but a shade lighter than most photographs suggest. Heaven help me if it is a wig. She compliments the auditorium, but I guess is slightly surprised to see so many empty seats, and is obviously more used to the exuberance of American audiences. For the first couple of songs she seems to be struggling to get the sound just right with her radio mic, and is constantly alternating between 'muffled boomy' and 'slightly too quiet'. She pops a mint into her mouth between songs, and regales us with tasty snippets from anecdotes and experiences of people she has met and worked with over the years - and mentions that book a couple of times, and the fact that she will be signing copies afterwards.

The band is competent, but not exceptional, although it transpires that the guitarist and backing vocalist is none other than Hamish Stuart (he of The Average White Band fame). The setlist covers many of the legends of Americana - Ry Cooder's Tattler, Kris Kristofferson's Late Again and Bob Dylan's I'll Be Your Baby Tonight, along with songs that I am more familiar with - Delaney & Bonnie's Superstar, and the duet Loving Arms (originally recorded with ex-husband Kris Kristofferson).

There are covers of Ann Peebles' I Can't Stand The Rain, The Temptations' The Way You Do The Things You Do, and a velvety-smooth version of Peggy Lee's Fever, but it is the Cherokee version of Amazing Grace that really raises the bar emotionally. She explains to us the story of the enforced re-settlement of native American tribes in the 19th century, and the subsequent 'Trail of Tears'. Coolidge claims Cherokee lineage, and from my third-row seat those tears in her eyes look genuine enough as she sings what has since become adopted as the Cherokee national anthem.

Ultimately, though, the 'hairs-on-the-back-of-the-neck' moments are reserved for the twin highlights that are the pair of her biggest solo hits, (Your Love Has Lifted Me) Higher, and the first-dance wedding perennial I'd Rather Leave While I'm In Love. Call me a sentimental, if cynical, old softy, but this is what I and many others have come out tonight to hear. Legendary songs performed by a legendary singer, whilst we still can. As I said to someone before I came out for this gig, 'It's a long time since I have paid to watch someone perform who is actually older than myself''. It is not just me that isn't getting any younger.

I don't hang around for the book signing, or to try and snatch a 'selfie'. I find that whole side of things so undignified. For a first night in a strange country it's not been a bad show. It's just that the audience has been a bit non-committal for a star of her standing. Hopefully later dates, including London's Cadogan Hall, will be more appreciative.

 Instead, I head back to the car, and my fifty minute drive back to Norwich.

In the timeless words of Wallace & Grommitt, "It's been a grand day out".

Visit Bury St Edmunds - http://www.visit-burystedmunds.co.uk/tourist-information.html

Visit St Edmundsbury Cathedral - http://www.stedscathedral.co.uk/

Visit Greene King Brewery - https://www.greenekingshop.co.uk/brewery-tours/

What's on at The Apex - https://www.theapex.co.uk/

Ian W Brown website - http://www.ianwbrown.com/

Rita Coolidge website - http://www.ritacoolidge.net/

A Day at Cheltenham Races, with Ellenborough Park, Essilor Crizal, and The Daily Telegraph

It has to be said that many folk in Norwich would struggle to accurately point out to where they think Cheltenham lies on a map of the United Kingdom, and possibly vice versa. Not only are the two towns separated by a distance of just over 180 miles, but to drive from one to the other involves an heroic cross-country route that even my sat-nav argued over, and that was before an accident on the M6 further muddied the spa waters.

 I have stopped off in Cheltenham several times over the years - during my childhood it traditionally provided the overnight stopover on the annual family holiday to the Gower peninsula in South Wales, and in 1997 La Maman and I took our own children for a half-term break in the Cotswolds. So it was a lovely surprise when, a few weeks back, a young lady at The Daily Telegraph telephoned to say that I had won a two night break in Cheltenham, plus hospitality tickets for the November race meet, courtesy of Essilor Crizal lenses.

Ellenborough Park

The accommodation had been booked at Ellenborough Park, a magnificent former manor house, built of local stone and in parts dating back to the 15th century. Formerly known as Southam House, it has since been extended and refurbished, and commands panoramic views over Cheltenham racecourse. I would be staying here, on a bed and breakfast basis, for the Thursday and Friday night, and attending the races on the Friday. This left me with time after the drive down on the Thursday to explore the town of Cheltenham.

I decided to make an early start. The AA Route Planner estimated a four-hour journey time, and a route that would take me past Birmingham before dropping down on the M5 toward the West Country. Unfortunately, it soon became clear from the gantry messaging on the A14 that the route past Coventry was affected by severe delays due to an accident, and so it was a slightly longer, but much more picturesque route that eventually saw me taking the A429 through the Cotswold towns of Moreton-in-Marsh and Stow-on-the-Wold before arriving in Cheltenham in the early afternoon.

Cheltenham
By parking on the London Road close to Sandwell Park not only was I spared any parking charges, but I was also able to take the comfortable stroll into the town centre, admiring the many Regency style houses en route. It would have been very easy simply to stop off in the town centre and spend all my time exploring the shops - there are two malls in addition to the main High Street, but apart from a necessity stop in Office to purchase a new pair of shoes (in my rush to leave I had forgotten to pack anything other than my battered driving casuals), I refrained from all other retailing opportunities and concentrated instead on the Montpellier and Lansdown areas where the most impressive Regency terraces were to be found. This also allowed time to search out the historic Cheltenham Ladies College buildings, St Mary's Church and the Royal Crescent and Promenade.

In addition, the Wilson Art Gallery and Museum houses a fascinating collection of artifacts representative of the Arts and Crafts movement popularised by the likes of William Morris. There is also a programme of temporary exhibitions. I was able to take in 'Portraits of an Icon', a collection of photographs of Audrey Hepburn on loan from the National Portrait Gallery, and three themed video installations by American artist Bill Viola, part of the touring 'Artist Rooms' project funded by Arts Council England.

The Wilson Art Gallery and Museum

Other sights worth seeking out in the town include the famous Neptune fountain, and the statue of Edward Wilson, the Cheltenham-born  Antarctic explorer, and colleague of Captain Scott. A slightly more quirky piece of sculpture is Sophie Ryder's 'Minotaur and Hare' in Cheltenham Promenade, cast in 1995 and aquired by public subscription in 1998.

Statue of Edward Wilson

Sophie Ryder's 'Minotaur and Hare'

There are still Big Issue sellers and Poundland stores, but the Regency grandeur still remains, though you may have to leave the High Street and head for the Lansdown district to see evidence of the real money and the multi-million pound mansions. The multitude of expensive women's bicycles (complete with shiny bells and wicker baskets) show how the influence of the Ladies College pervades the town with the air of an aspirational  Tinder box.

Cheltenham Ladies College (main entrance)

Ellenborough Park 
Those who know me are familiar with my usual choice of overnight resting places. Sometimes I don't even make it as far as a hotel, saving money instead by pulling over at the side of the road and sleeping in my van. Otherwise, careful trawling through websites like Hotels.com will throw up somewhere both suitable and within budget. Not that I haven't ever sampled a better class of accommodation - only a few weeks ago I was put up in a veritable hanger of a room following my son's wedding in Surrey, and during a brief spell as an area manager for a large chain of chemist shops we would be treated to various corporate 'jollys', staying in middle-management business hotels complete with Bronnley toiletries and Corby trouser presses. Ellenborough Park, though, was an entirely different ball game.

Even as I drove up the twisting drive to the car park it struck me that it was probably a while since another Toyota Aygos had pulled up here. The preferred set of wheels appeared to be Range Rover, Mercedes, Porsche or Bentley. As soon as I had carried my suitcase, briefcase and shoulder bag into reception my entire luggage was immediately whisked off to my room by the porter, leaving me unable to even provide a credit card with which to set up my room account. My Tesco Mastercard was secreted within my O'Neill black fabric wallet, which in turn was tucked away, backpacker style, in one of the secret security pockets of my Eastpak manbag. It should of course, as any gentleman would have you know, have been in the breast pocket of my sports jacket, in the company of crisp five pound notes with which to administer gratuities at each appropriate opportunity.

However, please let the record show that all the staff at Ellenborough Park were, without exception, incredibly welcoming and accommodating towards me. Not once was I made to feel any awkwardness, nor did I have to ride the clumsy embarrassment of expectant palms. From the initial guided tour to their genuine concordance upon my checking out, the friendliness and concern for my well-being was absolutely tip-top and second to none.

I did not get to use the spa or the fitness room during my stay. The outdoor swimming pool was heated and ready for use, and was only a couple of paces from the terrace of my ground floor room. However it did not get to experience the launch of my bulky form, 'Home Alone' style, via the Auckland Bomb. To be honest, after my drive down from Norwich and an afternoon of exploration I was more than happy to luxuriate in the enormous free-standing bath, nestle into the softness of the fluffy dressing gown, and enjoy some crap TV on a gargantuan high-definition television set  that resided behind the leaded windows of a full-height dresser.

Breakfast was served in the paneled splendour of the Beaufort Dining Room, and was a most satisfactory affair - a chance to peruse the complimentary newspaper, and run through the form for the day's racing whilst enjoying fresh coffee, croissants, toast and cereals, and all topped off with a Cotswold Special - a cooked breakfast to end all cooked breakfasts, a gorgeous mélange of black puddings, sausages, bacon and eggs. Sorry to be a tad tacky on this one, but this was my chance to stoke up for the day ahead, and with local fare this good, why not?

Thank you to everyone who together made me feel so welcome at Ellenborough Park. I would love to return at some stage, to use the fitness and spa facilities, and to take full advantage of the boot room and its regimental array of waxed jackets and boots lined up ready for an Autumnal yomp into the surrounding Cotswold Hills. I felt thoroughly spoiled. Somehow, the Travelodge will never feel quite the same ever again.

Cheltenham Races
Another first for me. As well as the hotel accommodation, the prize from Essilor Crizal included hospitality passes for a day's racing, with lunch in the ominously named Final Fence Restaurant, steeplechasing's equivalent of golf's 19th hole?

The Open is a three day meeting held in November, and my passes were for the Countryside Day, the first day of the meet. There were six races on the card, starting with the Paddy Power Handicap Chase at 1.05pm. The lunch was to be served at 12.30 but, as I wanted to get close to all the action and the atmosphere, I decided to forego the hospitality in the interest of learning as much as I could about the racing. Besides, whilst I was quite happy to eat on my own at the hotel, I felt slightly out of my comfort zone entering the world of corporate hospitality without a wing man. Besides, there was loads of other shizz going on that I really didn't want to miss.

Ellenborough Park, viewed from Cheltenham Racecourse

Even though Ellenborough Park is on the original Cheltenham Racecourse estate, and the hotel even offers courtesy transport door-to-door, I still decided to use my red parking pass and drive down. I was not going to be drinking, and I always feel more in control when I have my own wheels. I was therefore queued up by the Club/Tattersalls entrance before the gates opened at 10.30am. Once again, the trusty Aygo seemed a little overawed and overshadowed by the Range Rovers and SUV's favoured by the tweed and corduroy set around me. I had my trusty green trilby and navy twill trousers, topped with a waterproof navy blue jacket, so the Norfolk boy kind of blended in, and it was refreshingly rural to see so many people wearing hats or caps - a bit like one of those black and white newsreel films of pre-war FA Cup finals. The ladies, too, certainly favoured their tweeds, although fur hats also appeared de rigeur.

Not quite knowing what to expect, I spent the morning watching the paddock parade of stallions organised by the Thoroughbred Breeders Association. Beautiful creatures, although at upwards of £2000 a pop, their stud services don't come cheap.

After the stallions came the lively knockabout double-act of Charlotte Dujardin and AP McCoy, as Charlotte gave AP a dressage lesson with two of her horses, whilst providing an entertaining commentary and scoring points at AP's expense. To be fair, when one considers the completely different skill sets involved in horse racing compared with dressage, it certainly illustrated just how good a horseman the Irish jockey really is. Later in the day we are able to catch AP again, whilst signing copies of his autobiography.

And as if this wasn't enough excitement before the racing proper got under way, we had Princess Anne standing just above us on the balcony of the new Princess Royal Stand performing the official opening ceremony.

And so to the races themselves. Adopting a prudent policy of sticking to a maximum of £10 to win on each of the six races on the card, I started badly when the favourite La Vaticane ridden by Tom Scudamore (son of champion jockey Peter Scudamore) only managed to come in fourth, although the unforgettable sight of fifteen horses charging up the hill on the final lap towards the winning post was so much more exciting than it ever looks on television.

I did better in the second race when Jonjo O'Neil's horse More of That came in at short odds of 7-4, but cancelled out my losses on the first race. Backing the favourite again, this time Penglai Pavillion, in the 2.15 proved to be a mistake when it came in third out of four runners, and my choice of Loose Chips (picked because of The Son's job in highways maintenance) at 14-1 was at best fanciful.

So, after being entertained by the beagle hounds and the riders of the local hunts with a parade between the second and third races, and given a slightly one-sided commentary by a member of The Countryside Alliance, I needed to pull something out of the last two races to avoid going home nursing a £40 loss on the day.

Fortunately, A Hare Breath, once again chosen for its name rather than for being favourite (brother in law loves taking photographs of hares), beat a field of twenty runners and came in at 6-1, and I resisted the urge to be reckless and stake all my winnings on the last race. Which in one way was a shame, as my horse Knock House actually won as joint favourite with odds of  9-2. If only I'd had the courage of my conviction to stake my entire balance of £70. As it was, I sensibly stuck down a tenner, collected £45 in winnings, and added it to the £60 I won in the race before, leaving me just over £100 up on the day.

So, after another lovely evening at Ellenborough Park, and a second night sleeping soundly in my cossetting Hypnos bed, I checked out on the Saturday morning and bid farewell to Cheltenham and the Cotswolds for the time being.

It was time to drive back up to London to meet up with my daughter in Kilburn, and buy her dinner at the North London Tavern with my winnings. Thank you once again to Ellenborough Park, Essilor Crizal, and The Daily Telegraph, for my prize, and to The Jockey Club for a lovely day's racing at Cheltenham.

To check out Ellenborough Park for a Cotswold break, go to their website at http://www.ellenboroughpark.com/

For details of this Winter's racing calendar at Cheltenham go to http://cheltenham.thejockeyclub.co.uk/

For information of other things to see and do in Cheltenham, check out http://www.visitcheltenham.com/

Getting OutThere with Seachange Arts in Great Yarmouth - A Volunteer's Perspective

Great Yarmouth is a resort with a history of circus that goes right back to 1903, when showman George Gilbert built The Hippodrome on the seafront. It still stands today, although now partly obscured from the road by an amusement arcade. In its day it saw performances from Houdini and Charlie Chaplin, and whilst most others have either disappeared or changed use (the famous London Palladium was originally built as a circus), only The Hippodrome remains to this day as a continuing indoor circus in the UK.

Seachange Arts, established in 1996, is now the UK's leading organisation for the development of European partnership projects in circus and street arts. Put simply, when they put on their free annual festival in the town it attracts the some of the best circus acts in the world, as well as its own home-grown talent. It also is committed to education, and encouraging local young people to become involved with Great Yarmouth's proud circus tradition.

This is the second year that I have volunteered to help out with the OutThere festival, and whilst I was not able to offer as much of my time as I did last year (not least because of my son's impending nuptuals next month), it is simply too big an event and too much fun to miss out on completely. Being involved with a festival is always so much more rewarding than simply turning up as part of the audience, and OutThere prides itself on creating an atmosphere whereby staff, performers and volunteers all exist as one, all based at The Drill Hall in York Road, and all sitting down to eat together, sharing experiences and forming friendships.

Much of the volunteer work involves publicity in the lead up to the festival, and this year saw me handing out festival brochures in Norwich market place accompanied by Cyril the Giant Snail, and mail-dropping to businesses in the city centre. Once over in Great Yarmouth I helped out with the filming of a circus seminar in St George's Theatre, assisted with the coning off the artists' parking area in The Beach Car Park, and laminated rota sheets in the Drill Hall offices.

The first of my proper stewarding roles came on the Friday once the festival programme was under way. The weather is always a huge concern with any outdoor event, and once you get into late September you can either be extremely lucky or unlucky. At our volunteer briefing on the Monday it was explained that there is no indoor option if it rains, and that the artists' safety has to be the paramount concern. With weather forecasts changing almost on an hourly basis, there was a real possibility that the weekend's timetable could be drastically amended, or even cancelled, if the rain became persistent or heavy.

Ironically, one of the first events on the Friday was a performance called 'Bring Me Sunshine' by local company 'Stuff & Things'. Starting from five different locations around the town dancers made their way through the streets and rows carrying portable PA systems concealed within rucksacks and suitcases. Synchronised to arrive simultaneously at the same secret location in the town centre (it was the Market Place), two more suitcases would be transformed into loudspeakers, and the dancers would break into a 'spontaneous' flashmob routine that would hopefully also involve volunteers and members of the public.

My role was to wait in the Market Square, with the loudspeakers, awaiting the arrival of the flashmob. Fortunately the rain eased once we left the Drill Hall, and whilst the town centre was not as busy as it might otherwise have been, the show was successfully climaxed with a rousing performance in front of the chip stalls.

Later that evening was an experimental show 'The Money' in The Tollhouse Museum, in which the audience had to debate, and unanimously agree within a given time limit, how to spend a specific sum of money based on the box office receipts (If they agreed the money was theirs, if they failed to agree the 'pot' rolled over to the next show). This was followed by a spectacular outdoor show by Italian company Ondadurto Theatre on Marine Parade. 'C'era Una Volta' (Once Upon a Time) was a spectacular multimedia performance drawing on favourite fairy tales as well as real life and fantasy. I missed both of these shows due to previous commitments in Norwich, but know that they were both hugely successful.

St George's Park was set up and ready for the off by noon on the Saturday, when a rolling programme of circus acts took place on the seven different pitches. In addition there was a street performance of 'The 'Oss and The Ox', a fusion of English and Brazilian culture represented by The Hobby Horse (featured in many traditional Morris dances) and the 'Bumba Meu Boi' (a bull that dies and comes back to life). Choreographed and performed by the Kate Flatt Company, some of you may have seen this last year as part of Norwich's Lord Mayor's Celebrations. There was also a variety of roaming street entertainment to stumble across, and a variety of food and drink stalls at the ever-popular 'Frog and Herring' at the far end of St George's Park.

By the time I arrived from Norwich to start my shift the weather was glorious, and was able to get a ringside view of the UK premier of 'Kermiz', performed by the Dutch company 'Le Cirque du Platzak', whilst stewarding. As it was one of the last shows of the afternoon there was a huge crowd, and everyone was jostling to get a good view. And not without good reason. This, for me was one of the highlights of the weekend, a glorious combination of traditional circus skills - balancing, wire walking, juggling, acrobatics and trapeze, mixed with comedy, music and glamour. The twelve performers were totally engaging, and the show was fast-paced and entertaining from start to finish.

Almost as soon as the afternoon programme was finishing, the anticipation for the evening's outdoor spectacular 'Les Tambours de la Muerte' (The Drums of Death) started to build, in part helped by a rousing Salsa-Afro-Balkan brass band performance on the green from the wonderful Kumpania Algazarra from Portugal. It certainly set the scene and the atmosphere for the start of a spectacular parade that, at 8pm, made it's way down Trafalgar Road to Marine Parade, before continuing along the seafront to a point by the SeaLife Centre. Accompanied by a masked band, billowing smoke, and lit with an eerie red glow from the fire flares, two larger-than-life ghostly skeletons danced their way through the crowds in a re-enactment of the traditional Mexican Day of the Dead celebrations. Pausing along the way to allow the crowds to keep up, and diverting unpredictably into the melée itself, this was a real stewarding challenge as we tried to clear a path for the dancers and drummers, only for them to suddenly veer off in a completely different direction! At one point we found ourselves at the back of the parade instead of the front, and had to run through the back entrance of an amusement arcade in order to re-emerge on Marine Parade and re-take our places at the front.

Once safely escorted to the stage, the show continued with a spectacular musical backdrop and a stunning aerial acrobatic display, before ending with a huge firework display, The drummers and band then retraced their steps back up Marine Parade before disappearing into The Barking Smack for a well-deserve drink and to change. We continued back to the Frog and Herring, where Kumpania Algazarra entertained us again until last orders.

Sunday saw me placed on the seafront green by Amazonia to steward two shows. If anything, the weather was even finer than the Saturday, and whilst the acts on St George's Park performed to a fresh crowd of visitors I was able to watch the outdoor dance show '(I)Land', performed by Marc Brew Company from the UK, followed by Fullstop Acrobatic Theatre's performance of 'Outside The Box'. Both these companies produce entertaining, yet thought-provoking work that certainly benefited from being given performance space away from the hustle-bustle of the pitches of St George's Park.

To a mysterious and beguiling musical soundtrack the three performers of (I)Land explore a deserted island on which they find themselves abandoned. Through a series of beautiful and complex movements they have to share the space, as well as plan and attempt an escape from the island. Through working together they manage to build a sail-powered contraption from items buried in the sand, only to find that it will only transport two of the castaways, meaning that one has to be left behind. Performed on a set featuring a mast and a huge mound of sand, this show can be performed in city centres, but seemed particularly pertinent to the seaside resort of Great Yarmouth, as it explored themes of identity, isolation and independence. Totally mesmerising, and beautifully performed, and I am ashamed to admit that I did not realise choreographer and dancer Marc Brew is himself physically disabled, until he returned to his wheelchair at the end of the performance. Awesome.

Wibbe and Vicki Pompe from Belgium's Fullstop Acrobatic Theatre also provide a thought-provoking show with 'Outside The Box', an acrobatic display of strength, balance and agility that also serves to question, challenge and educate perceptions over gender stereotyping and expectations. Whilst performing a variety of acrobatic routines and stunts, including a death-defying balancing act on a white plastic chair, Vicki and Wibbe narrate a series of prejudiced and overtly generalised statements often made by one sex about the other, highlighting and mocking our own contemporary clichés. Later, in a three-part segment, consisting of The Beginning, The Middle and The End, Vicki takes us through a fact-filled timeline of the female birth, reproductive years, and menopause, pausing to highlight the importance of routine breast scanning and sometime need to amputate, contrasted with the increasing non-sensical clamour for elected breast enlargement. And all of this is performed by Vicki as she hangs upside down from a rope! The show ends with a beautifully performed aerial routine that touchingly reinforces the importance of shared love.

Although intended for audiences of ten years and over, the whole show was so thought-provoking that I do not believe that anyone would not want their younger children to watch it. Entertaining, yet at the same time incredibly valid.

And that was basically it for my involvement with this year's festival. I ended up back at St George's Park, carrying my collecting bucket as I had been all weekend. I caught parts of the performances from Dizzy O'Dare's 'Body of Wires'; had another chance to see part of the hilarious Wet Picnic's 'The Lift', an eccentric and surreal comdy act that had the whole audience in stitches; and a second peek at the final show from the wonderful Le Cirque du Platzak.

Will I be back next year? Who knows. I would certainly like to come back and spend a day just watching the amazing array of talent on display, but then I miss out on the cameraderie and sense of involvement from being part of the event. It would certainly be nice to see a few more people become involved as volunteers next year. Those who did make up this year's small but dedicated team did end up working incredibly long shifts. I only did a fraction of the hours that some of them put in, and I felt tired at the end of the weekend.

The truth is that the more of us that are in the team the more sociable it becomes. There simply were not always enough bodies to pair up for all shifts, meaning that some of us worked alone for several hours at a time. We were also doubling up as fund-raisers and 'friendly-smiley-hosts', yet the truth of the matter is that it is much harder to make eye-contact and engage with the public once they see you carrying a collecting bucket. It's a reflex response to 'Chugger's Syndrome', yet in the cases I saw where the performers assisted in the requests for donations the money flooded in. Just a thought, and an observation. Either way, the harsh reality is that the OutThere Festival costs a lot of money to put on, yet its ethos and primary aim is to remain free at the point of delivery (a bit like the NHS).

 Donations make a huge difference, although it would still require a gift of £20 from each and every visitor before the festival covered all of its costs. Thank you to each and every one of you that threw all the coins and banknotes into my bucket, and those of my fellow volunteers, over the weekend. Thanks to you, we will be back!

PS It is not too early to register your interest in volunteering for OutThere 2016. Send an e-mail to volunteering@seachangearts.org.uk , or call in at The Drill Hall in York Road. Bring along a friend, or just make new ones once you arrive!