I've taken stacks of photos and then the battery on my camera ran out. Just as well or else this post would have taken ages. Maybe Blogher ran a seminar on speeding up post and photo downloads... could have done with some of that.
But this is where my Virtual Blogher conference took me. First - to the Whitstable Museum. This is mostly about fishing, WW II and fishing during WWII. But right at the back, the National Touring Company (or something like) had brought Matisse to town. And if that wasn't enough, there was a kid's play table in the corner for them to do their thing while parents take a look around.
How fantastically cool is that?
Then I went around the corner to St John's Methodist Church where they held a big exhibition of quilts. I was astonished. These filled the hall.
Peaches wanted to get out and run through the quilts like so much washing hanging on the line. Fortunately I knew that would make me incredibly unpopular so she had to stay in the buggy while I chatted to her multi-talented babysitter and hairdresser, Lindiloo at her Knitorama stall.
I stood looking at the plum jacket and booties for ages. They made me feel quite broody. Clearly my blood sugar was low so I thought it wise to go over the road to St Mary's Hall where Seaside Brocade was selling all sorts of vintage and crafts gubbins.
And cake. If you've not already noticed, Peaches and I like to make sure we take regular tea and cake breaks.It was now approaching the time that things happen in Whitstable like the 'landing of the oysters'. This is when the mayor and a bishop go to the beach where some fishermen (sea scouts usually) pretend to land some oysters. The oysters (and the sea?) are blessed and paraded through the town where the mayor 'delivers' them to pubs and restaurants along the way.
Among the festive crowd there are quite a few morris men. Happily, not quite so many as we get on May Day, but enough to satisfy most of us. I saw this lot right outside the church where I got married. A few of the congregation are members of Dead Man's Morris - perhaps the most goth looking folk dancers you'll ever get to see.
After all that clattering about, I took Peaches to an art show where we looked at her cousin's picture. She liked it so much she wanted to pick pieces off the frame. I stopped because that's the kind of killjoy I am.
Finally it was time to wait for the parade. The traffic was stopped and first in the parade were the Fish Slappers and the Whitstable Giant. They do a lot of drumming and it sounds very dramatic. As they get closer you soon realise these are the hippy cousins of the goth morris dancers. I'm sure they'll all be drinking together on the beach when the fireworks go off.
At this point my camera battery died. So I can't show you the school children dressed as fishermen, deep sea divers and fishmongers. Nor can I show you the mayor, the bishop and the accompanying St Bernards dogs pulling mini wagons behind them. You'll never get to see shire horses from Farmers World or the sand dancing rugby players.
They were all fantastic. You'd have loved it.