Langham Street Fayre July 2002

Every two years the folk of the small inland village of Langham put on their ‘glad rags’ and panamas and host their biannual Street Fayre.  For those of you who might not have heard of the village of Langham it’s  a tiny hamlet located in an Area of Outstanding Natural Beauty some three miles inland from the Norfolk coast.  The village is home to the famed attraction ‘Langham Glass’.  A working glass-blowing factory located in restored 18^th century Norfolk barns where visitors can enjoy seeing craftsmen at work with molten glass.  On the day of the 2002 Langham Street Fayre the sun was shining and the ice creams were melting and there wasn’t a cloud in the sky.  As always the event was well organised with plenty of parking in a nearby fields just three minutes walk from the village centre.  Armed with my purse and my sun hat I strolled into the hustle and bustle of the days activities.

The petite village of Langham lends itself well to a street fayre having only one main street, which is closed for the event so that the attractions and displays can be housed on the road without the worry of traffic. 

Gaily coloured stalls adorned the street on either side selling bric a brack, arts and crafts, baubles and gewgaws, knick-knackery and good things to eat and drink, both for now and in the future.  I even saw ruby red chillies on offer, though I think these were more intended for the cooking pot or a jar of olive oil rather than for immediate consumption.  
Delicious smells of cooking bacon wafted over to me on the warm summer air and though not yet lunch-time I couldn’t resist giving into temptation and purchasing a ‘bacon butty’ to munch on as I walked.  This inevitably was followed by a glass of apple juice purchased from a local purveyor who was selling both apple and cider beverages.  Resisting the urge to also buy an ice-cream (well I am supposed to be on a diet) I decided to retrace my steps back to Langhams church of St. Andrew and St. Mary.  In the grounds of the churchyard Norfolks own Town Crier, Tony Nelson was proclaiming  the ‘coming events’ in his tri-cornered hat, red stockings and brocaded red and turquoise jacket, a peacock by anyones standards. 

Inside the welcome cool interior of the church were yet more booths set amongst the pews and aisles. A good use of church space especially if the forecast had been for rain, though the people of Langham needn’t have worried as the sun shone brightly and the temperatures soared and the ice-cream sales went through the roof. 

So it wasn’t long before I was seeking the cool interior of the local village inn ‘The Bluebell’ for a refreshing half glass of Norfolk beer and a chat.

The Bluebell is able to trace its ancestry back some 400 hundred years with a mention in a will dating from the 1700’s.  It’s the kind of Inn that every village should have.  Made up of a number of interconnecting intimate rooms with a courtyard and a pretty enclosed garden.  Here you will always be assured of a friendly welcome by the staff and also the locals who frequent this quaint watering hole.  The publican with some pride informed me that they expected to raise even more money than was raised at their last Street Fayre in 2000. 

Whilst sipping my beer I looked at the walls on The Bluebell which are decked with RAF memorabilia commemorating the RAF base that was located on the outskirts of the village during the Second World War.  I had heard on my last visit to the Inn that the distant echoes of that Second World War Airbase are said to still resonate within the village.  With sightings of the ghosts of American Air force men who dissolve when approach and the sound of an invisible aircraft crashing amongst the trees.  These hauntings are not surprising when you look at the documentary evidence on the number of fatal aircraft crashes in Norfolk and around this area.  An unfortunate legacy of war.  

Refreshed and back outside I paused to watch a young juggler assist a gaggle of eager faced children to spin plates on sticks to the applause of parents and other siblings.  Debating whether he would accept a slightly (only very slightly) older student, I heard a whirring and a clicking behind me which announced the arrival of a futuristic being and I must confess to giving a girlish scream.  It was none other than the Robotic man in a black tuxedo and a white deadpan face.  I made way for his stilted gait only to inadvertently career into a pair of legs.  Wondering about the strength of the half pint of beer I had consumed in the Bluebell I craned my neck up to find a clown on stilts with balloons topping his top hat.  Who told me to be careful and then advised me that he was only three and he had the badge to prove it.

For the traditionalists there were Punch and Judy.  A timeless act, which is believed to have originated in Italy and whose first appearance in England, was when Charles II was on the throne.  When the good times began again, after the grim rule of Oliver Cromwell. 

In the grounds of Langham Hall there were vintage cars with enthusiastic owners sitting on chairs in the shade eager to answer questions and expound on the virtues of their classic cars.