First Jersey Craft Fair

The first time my wife and I went to Jersey to do the craft fair we didn't know what to expect, having never done a fair before. We landed on the island at 10pm having set off at 1am that morning. we'd been told to go straight to the venue and unload our car before going to our guesthouse. The fair was held at Fort Regent which stands above St. Helier on a headland.

Could we find a way up there, could we hell as likes. There is a tunnel which runs under the headland and if we went through it once we went through it ten times. On the last two attempts we were going through the tunnel strangling each other. Eventually we made it, emptied the car and went to find our digs, through the tunnel again, round the one way system, through the tunnel once more for luck and then finally arrived to find the guesthouse in darkness. The landlady wasn't too happy to be knocked up, her breath was full of alcohol ( we discovered this was the same every night ) as she grudgingly showed us our room.

I fancied a pint but there was nothing open. The next morning was spent setting out our stand along with lots of others and then waiting for the fair to open. The man who ran The National Crafts Fair was Anthony James ( he will need a chapter to himself later ) who asked where our spotlights were. The stand was borrowed and had no lights. 'You can't possibly do a show without lights, get down into town and buy some now' he bellowed. We did and he was right, the paintings suddenly stood out from the stand.

The opening 2 hours of our first show were tense, I had spent weeks painting scenes of Jersey and it had cost us quite a bit of outlay to get here. Joan was nervous and it showed when she tried to talk to potential customers so I told her to go and have a look around the rest of the show. Then all of a sudden we had our first sale, then another, and another, and then it happened, a crowd built up and Joan and I were pushed outwards as people tried to get a close look.

We sold half of our stock that night and 2 days later it was all gone. We still had 4 full days to go so I bought paints and paper and sat painting all day and sold them on the night. On the last day I was sat at the fair with a blank piece of paper when someone asked what I was going to paint. 'What would you like?' I asked. 'Anything as long as it's of Jersey, I'll pay you now and come back tonight for it.' he replied. And that's the way it went for the next 15 years. At the end of that first night we were high as kites and ready to hit the night life of Jersey.

The show finished at 10pm and we, along with another couple, headed for the town. Into the first pub by 10.15 pm and bought our drinks. 5 minutes later I nearly choked when the landlord called 'Time'. There was no drinking off time, at 10.30pm we and every other drinker in St. Helier were stood in the street. No where else to go ( that we knew of ) but back to the alcoholic landlady.

I tried to inhale some of her breath but her fag was in the way. Two days on Jersey and one quick pint to show for it. From then on we booked hotels where the bar hours were more liberal. Its all changed now, I think Bergerac and his mates realised putting thousands of young men and girls out on to the street all at once wasn't a good idea.

Published: 22nd April 2006   |   Back to Watercolour Memories.

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