Unfortunately, the weather did not live-up to the promise of the poster: bright sunshine, deckchairs full of excited, anticipatory spectators. Instead, we were presented with rain that would have inspired Noah to reach for his woodworking tools and start gathering-in all the animals. The few people who had braved the elements were huddled under their umbrellas and hooded raincoats. The main square was barren, too few visitors, and the empty soaking chairs looked forlorn and unloved.

On these occasions I always feel so sorry for all the small businesses that had set-up their stalls to entertain the visitors, to provide culinary delights and opportunities to try something new or renew old acquaintances. Instead, the town centre was devoid of any potential, just a few hardy shoppers, and kids who seem to enjoy being out, even if it meant sheltering under an umbrella. 

As I entered Vaughan Street, opposite the library, I spoke to a bedraggled young man dismantling, what was to be the bandstand. He seemed resigned to the fact that his time had been wasted in erecting it in the first place, and, I assume, he would have to dry everything before he could store it away. 

I dread to think of how much it cost each small business to have a presence at the Festival, the time, effort of laying-out their wares, all to no avail. Just the meagre attention of a few passing, rain-soaked, shoppers. And at the end-of-the-day, everything has to be packed-away and somehow dried-off. 

Hopefully next year will deliver clement weather and a promising business prospect.