The world from my window

It's that time of year again when the genteel seaside resort of Sidmouth opens its doors to folk fans and performers from around the world. There's been a folk festival here in the first week of August every year since 1955. Tens of thousands of visitors flock to this part of Devon for it.  The esplanade is full of morris dancers and solitary buskers. Girls are doing jigs and reels. The pubs are full of musicians just picking up their instruments and going with the flow. There are ceilidhs in halls and pub patios, workshops in community halls and vocalists in the gardens. And much ale and cider is consumed. And then there's the paid-for gigs all through the week, with artists on the multi-faceted bill including  Show of Hands , Oysterband , Ralph McTell , Seth Lakeman and his father, Geoff (who I remember from the days when he was the Daily Mirror's man on the spot in the West Country).  And much ale and cider is consumed. Still, we're here...

Back home in the Enchanted Village and a queue snakes around the hall car park. Morris dancers with blacked-out faces wave their hankies and dance gaily around the tarmac. Inside, a sound check is carried out and the beautiful voice of a singing woman soars through the evening air. My friend Tuppence opens the doors - a feat in itself because she's a slip of a thing - and the crowd rushes in, making for the bar and a barrel of Branscombe Brewery's best bitter. At the counter is Nobby Odd Job and Mr Loggins while Pelly, Mr Sheepwash and Mrs Bancroft and I dispense the drinks in the background. Mr Grigg - still sunning himself in faraway lands - would be proud of us. The music acts as a disembodied soundtrack to the pouring of wine and beer. It's like The World from My Window: The Movie . On stage is Ding Dong Daddy, tonight's promoter, with assorted members of his band The Imagined Village . 'He's famous,' my ethnomusicologist cousin said to me a few weeks ...