There were a few events planned for the weekend (see the prog later on) but not all were completely successful .....
And so to the great opening ceremony.
I said 'and so to the great opening ceremony'.
It sort of went a bit prune-shaped to be honest. There I was minding my own business (and pint) when Harry Isaacs (the Mayor if you haven't been paying attention to recent bulletins) popped up dressed in all his electrician's finery (overalls, raspberry beret, assorted screwdrivers and trailing wires for the fashion conscious out there).
"Hello, Paul", quoth he, "Any idea when this thing starts. I've got to get changed?"
"Well, from memory," spake I, "Joan Tanner did a spiel about midday last year, so you are probably due on in twenty minutes or so. Why don't you go and ask the CAMRA bloke yonder."
So, off stalked Harry. Consultations took place. Away went Harry to return a quarter of an hour later suitably suited and with the mayoral gear safely stashed in a James Bond briefcase. After a brief tussle with the recalcitrant object I finally managed to get Harry mayorally chained up.
So, there he was, all dressed up with ..... no PA!
Yes, it hadn't occurred to the organisers to organise some method by which the guests of honour could communicate with their audience. To be honest, Harry didn't really need a PA. He used to be a drill instructor in the army so they'd have probably been able to hear him in Carbis Bay if he'd put some oomph into it! However, the other guests might not be so good at shouting and so, much delaying, rending of hair and gnashing of teeth took place while Rod, from the NCI, was despatched to some undisclosed location to grab their PA.
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