Winter Festival - Friday

 On Friday mornings I always have a friend over to watch Star Trek together - we're just starting a re-watch of Deep Space Nine, and we'd both forgotten just how good it is!

In the afternoon, though, I had plenty of time to wander round town, visiting the Festival Bookshop in the marquee on the Castle lawn.  

In the evening, I went to the Town Square to see Luke Evans switch on the Christmas lights from the Castle steps.  The square was packed, and there were crowds on the terraces around the Castle too.  There was also a fire engine, a mountain rescue jeep, and two traction engines.  The mountain rescue people had a table set up in the Buttermarket with one of their stretchers on it, and there were a few other stalls in there - and Santa, set up in a sort of green wigwam at one end.  When I went back today for the Food Fair, it had been cleverly transformed into a felt Christmas tree.

On the way to St Mary's, I saw that Wobbly Owl was still open, and the lady there invited me in to see the owls - which I'd completely forgotten about!  They had a tent set up just outside the back door, with two handlers from the Ebbw Vale Owl Sanctuary, and five owls - the tiniest was a little owl, and the biggest was an eagle owl with bright orange eyes, with a gorgeous barn owl and a tawny owl.  I'm not sure what the fifth owl was.

I was lucky enough to get a ticket for the showing of Metropolis, that great silent film, with Father Richard playing the organ.  In the doorway, I saw two friends who hadn't been quite so quick off the mark, waiting to see if there were any returned tickets, and I saw later that they had managed to get in.

I've seen a version of the film before - there are several reconstructions available, though some scenes are lost forever.  This version had title cards describing the missing scenes in German and English.  I was quite pleased that I could understand about half the German.  Father Richard said in his introduction that the main character, Freder, wore the most ridiculous pantaloons, and they always made him laugh - and it's true, they are ridiculous.

Father Richard was marvellous, as ever, and relaxed enough about his performance that he called for a glass of red wine at the organ before he started playing.  After the performance I saw him at the back of the church chatting.  He was saying: "I was rather brilliant, wasn't I?" and followed it up with "Humility shouldn't mean inaccuracy!"