Only in Gosport’ are the words which sprung to mind as I stood last Saturday afternoon, listening to a samba band while foam whirled around me.
It wasn’t a Brazilian foam party, but part of the celebrations for turning on Gosport’s Christmas lights. The foam? Fake snow, obviously.
The Gosport samba band seem to be everywhere these days – and that’s okay with me as I think they’re great with their yellow and blue ensembles.
They’re going to form part of the beating heart of every child in the town who grows up going from one Gosport event to another.
That doesn’t mean the children will have rhythm though. I can’t understand how a crowd listening to such compelling music would choose to stand still – especially when the wind was extending its icy fingers through the high street – unless they were literally bound in position under scarves and numerous jumpers.
The children and I took cover from the cold (they refused to dance with me, the embarrassing parent) in Search museum, which squats quietly on the high street waiting for visitors.
When they do enter, it’s quite a feast combining exhibits, school work and craft-ish things for young visitors to explore.
I was particularly attracted to the sculptures of animals and birds, made with wire by children at a workshop.
I’d pay good money for those, as they’d make fab Christmas presents, but sadly they weren’t for sale.
There was also a decoupage stand, which made my fingers itch to get cutting and sticking. But itchy fingers have to wait when parking meters are ticking.
How I hate to hurry my children out of such places, especially with one of them wailing ‘I love history’ and me feeling the damning eyes of other parents about depriving them of such a pleasure.
Mind you, I should be used to it by now. I have damning eyes on me wherever we travel, whether it’s from shop staff (in the magazine aisle at a supermarket where I leave the children to entertain themselves) or at a fast food restaurant (one milkshake between three so we can get access to the toilet key).