Sunday, 9 September 2012

Days Out in Devon: Missing Most of Fishstock

My chances of being 'discovered' and hauled off to a high paid job in  travel photo-journalist have substantially diminished this weekend. Firstly,  my  trusty Canon Ixus is shagged  So, until my spare part arrives and I resort to fixing it c/o YouTube,  I'm having to rely on the dodgy camera on my Samsung Galaxy to take cack shots.     This hiccup might  be pardoned but my next faux-pas is possibly unforgivable.  When you cover an event you are supposed to turn up at the right time!

Instead of arriving at Fishstock yesterday in time to sample the foodie and crafty delights on sixty two stalls and view ten maritime displays where I'm sure that I would have found something intriguing to write about,  Mr Metrosexual and I got waylaid.  We prepared a very leisurely lunch, sat in the garden and ate it and  then wandered down to Brixham town  via the scenic coastpath route.  Once there we sat al fresco at the Old Market Place House pub.  There we indulged in a pint and a rather grown-up game of talent spotting, before ambling along to the festival  at the behest of Barbie Nurse and her husband Glazey Dave.  There  we found the last of the stallholders had packing up their final bits and pieces!

So you see, diddly squat that is sensible and informative to report.  All that was left to do was meet up with  Ruff Stu,  Mr Metrosexual's partner.  There is a secret story behind his name as he is not rough but as soft as a small kitten....or hamster.  We all then had a wonderful time admiring  boats and things like this tall ship  which is pixelated and hasn't really got stripy rigging.    We drank a bit more beer, stuffed our faces and listened to some good music on the acoustic stage.  Aside from 'pirate band' Tricorn Shonky, I have not a clue who we saw.  Further proof that there won't be a single newspaper writer out there who is going to be concerned that I'll be taking their job at any time soon!

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