Flash, bang, wallop

Sooooooo, I was supposed to be going to a Dr Who convention last weekend. Just a one day thing on Saturday in the small town of Darwen. Some of my mates were supposed to be going as a fellow fan was visiting from Glasgow. Only he decided he wanted to go to visit the exhibition in Blackpool instead. I was going to go to Darwen anyway as one of my co-stars (not that I'm a star - I just couldn't think of a suitable term) from the Dr Who audio thing I did was a guest. I thought it might be nice to chat and catch up and yes, a little part of my ego was curious to see if anyone realised who I was. Who am I kidding eh? So at the spur of the moment and thanks to some info from my best mate, I dragged my brother to watch the fireworks championships in Southport. Not that I had to drag him much. Or at all.

Its all the eclipse's fault you see.

Six years ago we went down to Plymouth to watch said eclipse and had a marvellous time. We managed to find a campsite (well, a football field) where the owners were only charging £10 per pitch, a far cry from the twelvty hundred pounds that most hotels & b&bs were charging, even if the facilities were swimming in half a foot of water. We also had very noisy neighbours but at least we were there. We had a recce to the local park and found a convenient bench on top of a hill in front of the folly. It had a lovely view of the harbour so we staked our claim, ready to return the next day. We tried to find somewhere to eat that night but the throngs of people who'd descended on the town made it impossible to find somewhere central so we ended up in a little fishing village on the outskirts that my bro knew (he'd lived & worked in Plymouth a couple of years previously). The New Inn at Turnchapel was ever so lovely and the food delicious. It was there that we discovered some fireworks championships were happening in the harbour. Lots of people had gathered at the water's edge. We ate our meal as quickly as we could, ordered dessert and popped outside to watch the show with everyone else, assuming that it'd be over before our pudding arrived. What actually happened was that as the fireworks were about to start the chap brought our puddings out to us. So there we stood in a picturesque fishing village, watching the most spectacular firework show ever and scoffing caramel apple betty (or granny depending on your disposition) with clotted cream. Happy, happy memories. And we hadn't even seen the eclipse yet.

We set out very early the next day to bag our bench and sat there for hours, cameras & special eclipse filters at the ready and bums getting decidedly numb. To no avail. The clouds didn't even part for a second. We thought it was going to be a washout. The atmoshpere was fantastic though. Everyone was so excited. As the time approached we felt it getting gradually colder and then the oddest thing happened. It didn't just get dark, it was as if the colour drained out of everything. The scenery seemed two dimensional. Very weird. But then it did get dark, everybody cheered, seagulls started squawking as if to say "What the fuck??" and we could see hundreds of camera flashes going off over at the Hoe. I suddenly felt like I wanted to cry. It was just so powerful and primal and beautiful. Even though we couldn't see it. Looking back at all the souvenirs I picked up I still get emotional.

That night we went back to the New Inn, ate and watched the fireworks. We got there early though so we didn't get our puds brought to us.

They still hold the championships in Plymouth in August, or at least one of the heats or something, and we've been talking about going back there ever since & taking our mum with us. Its never happened though which might be a good thing. I wouldn't want to compare it to that first time & find it lacking in any way.

This long story explains why I wanted to go to Southport and why it didn't take much persuasion for my bro to come with me. We took sandwiches, crisps & beer but it wasn't as nice as having caramel apple betty/granny with clotted cream brought out to us by an obliging waiter. The place was also far too packed and the event too short but we had a good time anyway and it made a change from sitting in front of the telly.

It was also cheaper than the £18 I would have paid to get into the Who day at Darwen.