Do you ever get the feeling that a jackhammer is drilling straight through your peace of mind? If so, then you probably live close to our neighbouring property. A deceased estate, it has been bought by a developer who is currently trying to maximise his investment by turning the garage into a second house. Not satisfied with removing the roof and most of the walls, the builders are now using a pneumatic drill to hammer through the concrete floor. I don’t know why they don’t just drop a bomb on it and be done with it. Who knew maximising an investment could make so much noise?
Fortunately we have ample reasons for being somewhere else. We have the beach and the sea; we have the Downs.
We also have a very interesting Icelandic film to watch. The Towner cinema frequently shows unusual, independent, foreign language films, sometimes introduced by the wonderful Mansel Stimpson – a fascinating, highly articulate man with a long career as a film critic. He always manages to pull out just the right nuggets of background detail to heighten our interest and sharpen our observations. And we’ve learnt to trust his choices: if Mansel has chosen the film, we know we’re going to love it.
And then there’s the South Downs Music Festival. The opening concert consists entirely of British composers and, for this reason, Adrian is happy to give it a miss while I go along with a friend. Not that Adrian objects to the Britishness; he just isn’t a fan of the particular composers. I’m ambivalent about Elgar and always have been, but I love Britten’s Simple Symphony, while the pieces by Coleridge Taylor and Malcolm Arnold are new to me and striking.
The venue is also an interesting one. The 14th Century St Andrews Church in Alfriston is built in the shape of a Greek cross with its bell tower set in the centre. This means that, unusually, the bell ropes hang down into the chancel. It also means that if your seat is at the extreme end of the transept, your view of the performers is likely to be restricted. Georgia and I tuck ourselves into a dusty pew, not designated as seating but better than where we’re meant to be. Oddly, the acoustics of the church are just a bit dodgy. While the music makes it to the four corners of the cross, the pre-concert announcements are completely absorbed into the structure. I sit through the concert with absolutely no idea whether that pointing finger indicated the loo, the fire exit or possibly some important architectural feature. It makes me wonder if the local worshippers ever hear their preacher’s sermon.
Talking of the beach, on a hot Friday afternoon, we take ourselves to the seafront for a swim, only to find the production of a Bollywood film in full ‘action’ mode. There’s a cast of thousands and a crew of equal number. There’s also an array of fake food stalls and a group of young men playing music with no sound. We watch as the crew hold up huge sail-like panels and extras walk across the scene, talking and flicking their hair. We see a token white man lying on a massage table set up on the shingle in front of them. As no-one takes the slightest notice of him, I assume he’s simply a prop – a prop that’s getting slowly sunburnt.
Further along the prom, we find some crew members constructing a stage and something that looks like a bar. Across the top of this is flung a fake body. It’s impossible to fathom the narrative, but we guess it might involve a drowning. Neither of us has brought a phone, but below is a link to the local rag that shows a bit of the action. There’s no indication of what the film is or when it might be released. Nor do we have any idea if we’ve inadvertently got ourselves on camera. https://www.sussexexpress.co.uk/news/people/watch-as-bollywood-crew-films-on-eastbourne-seafront-5229762