One Of Those Days In England

We have just had what we call a "bank holiday weekend" in Britain. That is, a weekend followed by a Monday on which banks (and, traditionally, most other things) are shut, and all but essential workers get a day off. Nowadays, however, "essential" seems to include "people who work in shops", as shopping seems to have become the outer limit of what the general populace can conceive of as "leisure".

Also traditional is the miserable accompanying weather. In fact, we were promised rain – and many did get rain – but we spent the long weekend in Bristol, and the West Country was bathed in chilly sunshine. Perfect walking weather, and we headed for Dyrham Park, a National Trust property in the Cotswolds with hundreds of acres of land, gardens, and deer park to wander in as if it were your own. Certainly, there were few enough other visitors to spoil the illusion, despite the dispiriting traffic queues encountered along the way there (another traditional bank holiday feature). I expect the shops in Bath and Bristol were very busy, or maybe there was some bloody festival on somewhere.

Talking of Roy Harper ("One Of Those Days In England"), have I already mentioned that he has now taken control of his own back catalogue, and sells remastered vinyl and CD albums from his own website? If not, I have now [1]. Roy may have figured less prominently in your own back catalogue than he did in mine, but he's one of the Great Originals, along with the likes of John Martyn, Nick Drake, and even Richard Thompson, crafting fine songs in a highly individual style that somehow never quite elevated them into the Premier League of popular music, despite creating the template for the platinum-plated careers of later imitators.

To their fans, of course, this Revered Outsider status has always been part of the attraction, an endorsement of our own refined tastes, but I don't suppose they themselves – those that have survived, that is – would have minded a bit more worldly success. On their own terms, of course, and certainly not the sort of ephemeral mega-success that headlines at glamping festivals and creates traffic queues on a May bank holiday weekend.

1. Actually, it seems I did, but nine years ago (Hats off to Christopher)! Hey, I can't be expected to remember everything I write here...